Rise of Tyrus

Immediately, Tyrus regretted his decision. Amidst the murky surroundings, a shadow was rapidly approaching him. Not even a second had passed before he had gotten out of trouble and practically leaped onto the next one. At that point, Tyrus had wondered if he was some sort of lure for danger.

Tyrus kicked as hard as he could to the side. The approaching shadow happened to be a crocodile, one that was big and showcased razor-sharp teeth from its maw. It ripped through the water as Tyrus swam from its fatal attack. He had already activated augmentation and propelled to the surface in a split second.

Breaking free, Tyrus gasped for air and swiftly turned to where he had fallen. At the edge, the leader of the lizardmen stared at him with a sinister smirk, sending shivers down his spine. It turned and barked out a few orders to the others. Each one nodded and turned, trudging back to whence they came. The leader gave Tyrus one last look before following its men.

It thinks I’ll die here, Tyrus thought. He didn’t know whether to feel offended or glad he got the lizardmen off his trail. They thought the water creatures would handle him, severely underestimating his skills. It was funny for them to think that way, considering their own inability to complete the job. They couldn’t catch one measly kid while they had a dozen or so armed lizardmen. If he were honest, he felt a little insulted.

Suddenly, something tough and sharp gripped his left foot. In one fell swoop, something yanked him underwater. The crocodile, with a leg in its jaws and a hungry look, was waiting for him again. Still latched, it swam deeper.

Alarmed and running out of oxygen, Tyrus summoned his dagger and thrust the weapon into one of its slit pupils. The blade tore through the tissue like ripping soft paper. A stream of blood seeped into the water, and the crocodile let go almost instantly. Injured, it turned its massive body and slinked away.

Instead of reveling in his brief victory, a powerful force squeezed at his lungs. In haste, he desperately swam upward and broke through the surface once more, wheezing and gasping as his eyes darted around.

“Land, land… Where are you!?”

Luckily, it didn’t take long to find a place to shore. Underneath the cliff was a patch of rocky land. The rock formation above must’ve shielded the place from him and the lizardmen, serving as a kind of canopy. There was even a small cave, perfect for Tyrus to take refuge and dry himself.

“I gotta get there fast,” he mumbled. Just as he was about to swim to the shore, he noticed a plethora of ripples in his peripheral vision. Tyrus's eyes widened at the sight of more crocodiles making a beeline for him. Among them was the crocodile he had just wounded earlier. He glanced at the patches of blood near him.

Tyrus whirled around and made a break for land. With augmentation, his speed in the water nearly doubled, and it took him only a few seconds to reach the safe space. His feet thumped and squelched on the shore, relieved to be on solid ground. Drips and squeaks from below mingled as well, increasing in volume as Tyrus spun on his heels, eyeing the water.

As plentiful as there were people in a tavern at night, thin snouts were poking out of the water. The crocodiles formed a long line, like soldiers defending their land against invaders, each one staring at the morsel who escaped from their grasp.

“What? Afraid of getting on land?” he taunted, summoning his sword and storing the dagger. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay there. If not, I don’t mind fighting you on my turf.”

The surrounding air buzzed while a shaky sphere of crackling lightning manifested above his palm. He was about to chuck the power right at the legion of beasts until one of the snouts disappeared.

More of them followed along until one of them remained, which so happened to be the one-eyed crocodile. They glared at each other for some time before the crocodile slinked under the surface. Before long, silence ensued. Tyrus's knees gave way, and he collapsed onto his back.

Like a bell struck by disaster, his sword clattered to the ground. The longer he stayed there, the more his muscles relaxed and his heartbeat became a soft rhythm. A body as turbulent as a chaotic wave morphed into a calmness that got him steady.

“…How long has it been?” Tyrus muttered. “Did an hour, or even half of one, pass already? Feels like I’ve been here for days, at most.”

Slowly, he shifted into a sitting position, groaning as he patted his tunic. “It’s like the whole world is on my shoulders. I need to dry myself quickly; walking around all wet is not comfortable.”

Tyrus scrambled to his feet and marched for the cave. So far, he didn’t see or hear anything scuttling by. No lizardmen wanting to stab him in the chest or crocodiles itching to sink their teeth into his soft skin. He only managed to survive the first bite because of mana. Just thinking about what would’ve happened if he hadn’t activated augmentation on time had his body tinglingly, particularly on his foot. The selfsame foot where he was grasped at...

Sure enough, a sudden wave of searing pain shot through his foot. His pace slowed as he glanced at his foot. Parts of his boots were torn, and a crimson stream of blood flowed from several puncture wounds around his ankle. Every time he put pressure on the foot, another flash of pain wracked his body. What followed were droplets of blood left in his wake.

“Stupid crocodile pierced through my mana…”

He averted his attention back to the cave and pushed on through, this time hobbling on one foot. Tending to the wound was his top priority or else he’d risk dying from blood loss or getting an infection. Neither outcome was pretty, regardless of their differences.

Back when he roamed around, he had heard of people cutting off their limbs because of infections. Their wounds went untreated for too long, leaving them with no alternative but to resort to amputation. With no access or money to a healer, they resorted to such disastrous actions.

Hobbling around on one foot or having trouble completing mundane tasks with one arm probably sucked. It would probably suck more if it happened to a sorcerer. A one-armed Augmentation Sorcerer would be looked down upon because they couldn’t fight properly, and an Elemental Sorcerer with one of their legs missing would be a stationary target.

The notion worked the same way for an animal surviving in the wilderness. A bird with an injured wing cannot fly, thus limiting their chances of hunting or protecting themselves from other animals. A wolf with only three legs would not have the strength or agility to keep up with the pack, thus being doomed to starve. Although the extent of their injuries played a role in their chances of survival, the main idea remained unchanged.

Deter an injury from becoming worse, or else the worst outcome comes crashing down.

Tyrus arrived at the mouth of the small cave in no time. He groaned at the acid-like pain enveloping his foot. While he disliked the burning sensation currently ruining his moment of peace, he couldn’t really complain all that much. The injury could’ve been much worse. He should be glad that he still had a foot connected to him and not in the belly of a crocodile or floating around to god knows where. Or gods, since there was apparently more than one.

Tyrus leaned against the cavern wall with a grunt and sat down. Quickly, he unlaced the boot and tossed it to the side. There, he got a good look at what he was dealing with. Around his ankle, there were a few holes that looked like needles were used, and blood was leaking from each one. Other than the bleeding, the pressure building up, and his wet skin, nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

“I got to do this fast,” he mumbled. In no time, Tyrus had stripped himself naked, placing his soaked garments onto the ground after wringing them. He gave each one a look over before lighting his palm on fire. With no beast in range, he began his work.

****

Through the power of mana and patience, drying the pieces of cloth in front of him went reasonably well. Not only were they warm and dry, but none of them went up in flames, which was a huge plus. Walking around naked in a dangerous swamp because he couldn’t do a simple job would make him embarrassed. He’d have to hope no one saw and kept that secret to his grave.

In addition, his foot seemed to be getting better. By using fire to clean the wound of any unwelcome germs and a little of Healing Touch, the stinging and pressure were mostly gone. The pressure was still there, and so were a few blood smears from using ripped fabric from his trousers. In the end, he achieved his goals of staying infection-free and keeping dry.

“Fire magic really is one of the best elements. The pain sucks when I use it for stuff like this, but there is no other choice. I don’t really know if Healing Touch can deal with infections. Better safe than sorry.”

Smiling, Tyrus donned the garments and fastened his boots. As he was lacing them, he glanced at Tracer. He was quite glad he hadn’t given up yet. There were a few moments when he thought of surrendering, but an inner voice deterred him from doing so. Considering what he had experienced, it was surprising he held on for so long. Just thinking about it had him wondering how the others were faring.

Igneal was the first person he thought of since he was the only one he knew. Despite being around the same age, his sword skills surpassed his. However, it was hard to believe he would get so far with only a sword. While Igneal’s magic capabilities were still a mystery, he was probably around the same level, if not weaker than Tyrus.

Furthermore, he was at a physical disadvantage as a young Elemental Sorcerer. It was hard enough for Tyrus to escape the clutches of lizardmen and beast-infested waters! There were also mosquitos, goblins, slimes, and toads to worry about. Honestly, was he even still taking part in the exam?

“Nah, given his personality, he’s probably still here somewhere. Speaking of somewhere…”

Tyrus eyed Tracer briefly. Selena mentioned it was tracking his whereabouts through mana pulses sent by the object. Now that he was actually examining the thing, he felt an energy similar to his enchanted coat. It was probably a pseudo-artifact as well, or maybe a weaker version of it.

Without thinking about it, Tyrus tapped on the ring a few times. Immediately after, Tracer emitted a puff of mana, and what came out was a tiny translucent square almost resembling a mirror. He quickly recognized it from before when Selena used a magical tool to communicate with Ivy. But instead of a face, it was a tiny figure resembling a human; it kind of looked like a mannequin.

“Woah… What is this? Selena didn’t mention this during her speech.”

What caught his eye was that while everything was marble white, its left foot was darker. Once he thought about why that would be the cause, the answer was simple. It was his figure, revealing which body part was injured. Because his foot was recently damaged, it can only be that.

“This is so cool!” Tyrus said with a smile. “I wonder how it’s able to give me a detailed look at my injuries. Clearly, it works through some kind of magic, like my storage ring or the coat. Would Selena notice if I were to keep it? She probably would if it’s valuable. If it’s not too much sil, I could buy it from her hands. Ah, but if I do that, then I’ll have less coin than before.”

As he was marveling at the ring’s function, thinking about its potential price, a sharp and heavy smell drifted inside the cavern. His ears flickered, and he abruptly propped himself up. Tyrus caught the scent of ash and smoke. A sword appeared in his hands as he shuffled to the cave, weapon drawn.

“Smoke? Out here? I didn’t see or smell any fires earlier.”

At that exact moment, a voice he knew well, sounding both far away and filled with urgency, went through him: "Dumb beasts! Do you know who you are dealing with?"

At first, Tyrus stumbled, but then he burst into a sprint right outside the cave. Facing the cliff he had just tumbled down, he took a deep breath and clung to the rough exterior with his fingers.