Rise of Tyrus

With his hair brushing across his moistened face, a thought filtered into Tyrus’s mind: Why did every battle end with him severely injured? Whenever a significant battle unfolded, he was either recuperating from severe injuries, utterly drained, or entirely unconscious. It just occurred to him; When was the last time he fought something that matched his abilities? Most of the time, his enemies were weaker or much more powerful than him.

He grumbled and watched the scenery pass by in a blur. A tiny fairy perched on his nose, gazing into his eyes. “Don’t die on us, Tyrus! Elder Treant will patch you up, that’s for sure!”

One of Tyrus's eyebrows arched upwards. “Pretty sure I’m not dying. I do feel a lot of–Ow!”

A treant was actively carrying Tyrus into its arms as it rushed to the sanctuary. Its brief stumble made Tyrus’s limp arm collide with its hardened exterior. He twisted in torment as the scorching pain raced through his arm like liquid fire. The sheer intensity of his scream caught him off guard, leaving him quivering. It was almost as bad when he tried to achieve an additional element in Valier Forest!

Tyrus shuddered with his face becoming pallid as Meadow looked on in horror. “Treant! What’s the matter with you?! Apologize to him this instant!”

The treant nodded solemnly and said, “My mistake, Hero of Wildwood. I will be careful from now on.”

“H-Hero of Wildwood?” Tyrus whimpered. “Is that my t-title?”

“Anything less would be blasphemous,” Meadow said. “You saved Wildwood and its inhabitants from doom. Elder Treant will be overjoyed to hear the good news.”

Tyrus remained silent and centered his attention on his breath. After the battle ended, Meadow zipped around the vicinity, calling out for any treants. She also called out any remaining spirits to help minimize the fires before they grew out of control. Besides earth spirits and treants, a handful of water spirits also made an appearance - specifically those fairies with a natural affinity for water. A treant had hurried over and scooped up Tyrus in its rough arms and darted to the sanctuary per Meadow’s orders.

As they journeyed, Tyrus made every effort to ignore his arm, which was beginning to manifest an unsightly shade of purple. “Seeing stars now… Why is the sky so bright?”

“Don’t follow the light and stay conscious!”

“I might actually die,” he said, but Meadow ignored him.

After an excruciating amount of time passed while Meadow soothed him with her silky voice, the surrounding air changed. He felt the replenishment of his mana heart as the rich mana entered his skin. The white-hot pain transformed into prickling needles. Ahead of him, he sighted Elder Treant directing commands to a legion of treants and spirits alike.

“The lesser fire drake has been vanquished. It is imperative that we extinguish the fires it has left behind. Afterward, we will address any remaining issues. Go, before it’s too late. May Mevena’s grace shine upon you.”

Accompanied by a deafening roar that shook the nearby trees down to their very foundations, the army of creatures rushed past Tyrus. But along the way, every single one of them acknowledged him with nods, words of encouragement, and heart-warming greetings. There were a lot of thank you’s in the mix, which elicited a smirk from him. His smile disappeared when his arm acted up again on its own.

“Elder Treant!” Meadow yelled, levitating in front of the broad nose. “Our hero direly needs swift medical care to recover from their injuries. You must use your magic to heal him.”

The transporting treant delicately placed Tyrus on a bed of grass enveloped by nepora, drawing the notice of the Elder Treant. His clothes stuck to his skin, and his entire body felt like it was hurled into a blazing inferno. Still, the delightful fragrance partially soothed his ache and unease. Although he was still feeling the chills, his body gained a certain level of purity, even though it was wracked with agony.

“I will begin at once,” Elder Treant whispered. Its gleaming eyes locked onto his arm, and illumination from the summit of the tree’s foliage started to radiate. An awe-inspiring beam of resplendent jade-green light emanated, as though Mevena herself was descending.

The downward cascade of light enveloped Tyrus in a comforting and tranquil embrace, alleviating his trembling. The pain in his arm gradually eased to a sensation of numbness, and his breaths became slower. Over time, he could move his fingers steadily and raise his arm without shaking. After a period of time, the light faded away, and Tyrus stood up, rotating his arm in a circular motion.

“It’s healed,” he drawled. “The pain and chills are gone! What kind of spell was that? Not even Healing Touch could heal my broken arm, let alone deal with the pain.”

The Elder Treant let out a breath of relief. “I am delighted that you are in good health, Savior. The winds have brought me news of the passing of the drake. The moment I heard you had conquered it, I instructed all those in the vicinity to work on the fires. It would be a melancholic outcome if Wildwood were to incinerate after your conquest.”

“I didn’t beat it alone,” Tyrus stated, stretching out on the velvety grass to relax. “With Meadow by my side, we dealt with it quickly. I can’t receive all the praise.”

Fluttering over him, Meadow bobbed her head. The spectacle of her soaring resembled that of drifting flower petals. “Your words of admiration are appreciated, but the credit belongs to you, not me. As I held back, unharmed, you bravely faced the drake head-to-head. In spite of a clear power imbalance, you persisted in your fight despite a broken arm. I have never observed a child exhibit such bravery and resolute decision-making.”

She paused for a moment, lifting her gaze upwards. A wistful smile appeared on her lips. “The forest was saved from a crisis thanks to you, Hero of Wildwood. The fallen can now have peace of mind knowing that Wildwood has been preserved.”

“It was… no problem,” Tyrus replied, fumbling with his ring.

Elder Treant chuckled in amusement. “Embarrassed, are you? Well, no matter. Your service to Wildwood has been invaluable. You admirably met the challenge, embodying the spirit of the Tiger Tribe.”

His mood took a sudden plunge, as if someone had flipped a switch. From his ring, Tyrus pulled out his cap and placed it on his head. “I don’t mean to be rude–and I already told Meadow this–but I prefer to be called Tyrus. Not really feeling the whole Tiger Tribe and black tiger thing.”

The two shot a perplexed look at each other, as if at a loss on how to continue. Meadow raised her shoulders in a shrug and gestured towards Elder Treant to take the floor. “It seems that I have stumbled upon a thorny matter. My mistake, Tyrus. I shall refrain from bringing up this matter again.”

Its somber words led Tyrus to scratch his head, averting his gaze from the tree. Notwithstanding his displeasure of being referred to as a Beastfolk, it wouldn’t be damaging to listen to some snippets of information concerning his tribe. Never had he heard of a Tiger Tribe before, and since he was a black tiger, he was from that same group. There must be other titles among the Beastfolk, other than his own.

“I don’t mind hearing about the Tiger Tribe and all that,” he mumbled. “I would be lying if I said I wasn’t curious about them. And since you seem like you know a lot about them, you don’t mind if I ask about them from time to time?”

The look in Elder Treants’ eyes changed instantly. “I would be delighted to impart some of my wisdom. Should you have any inquiries, do not hesitate to ask me and I will endeavor to provide the best possible response.”

“That’s nice to know.” Tyrus rose with a grunt and brushed aside blades of grass. “You sent out the treants and spirits to deal with the remaining problems, correct? That would mean the goblins and excess lesser hounds. I would like to help everyone else if you’ll allow me.”

Meadow frowned. “Tyrus, have you forgotten about your dagger? It broke when you tried to pierce the drake’s scales. And are you sure about going out again when you just recovered?”

It was as though a red bison had stamped all over him. His dagger splitting in half had completely slipped his mind. He shattered the dagger that Wanderer had presented to him before they parted ways and absentmindedly forgot it at the corpse, looking like a fool! Tyrus incessantly rubbed his face while pacing in circles.

I should head back and retrieve the hilt. Maybe get it repaired somewhere. But to do that, I’ll need money, and that’s something I don’t have a lot of. I now regret giving Fiona my sil…

In the middle of his dilemma, a cough alerted him. When he looked up, he saw that Elder Treant was staring straight at him. “Given that you have vanquished the drake, why not enjoy the spoils? The ingredients of a draconian species like the drake are extremely valuable. Humans have a tendency to disassemble beasts for many purposes. I can summon one of the treants to procure the corpse and the dagger and bring it to this location.”

Relief washed over Tyrus. “I would like that very much. You really are smart, Elder Treant.”

“Oh ho! Quite the tongue you have there! I shall refrain from further wasting your time. Meadow, I urge you to approach the corpse and implore one of the treants to move the drake.”

“I’ll get right on it,” she said with a salute. Shortly thereafter, she sped away, leaving behind a sparkling trail of green particles.

“Elder Treant,” Tyrus began. “With the job finished, am I allowed to train here?”

“Yes, yes, of course. As the Hero of Wildwood, you possess the liberty to act as you desire. Rest assured, the sanctuary will always greet you with open arms.”

That title still feels weird, he mused. He’ll just have to get used to it over time. The noteworthy factor was that he encountered a spot to train with a wealth of mana. With the Elder Treant’s goodwill on his side, he can now work without hindrances. The training would be twice as efficient. Despite its sloppiness, he successfully executed the technique of silent casting! After experiencing such enlightenment, it only seemed rational to uncover what else he could do.

Tyrus paid no heed to Elder Treant’s sparkling gaze as he smiled to himself.