There was a field to the north of the academy, the most convenient location after weeks of sparring. How to move and swing could be taught in a training field, but how to kill was another story entirely. With Abaddon asleep, it had cost Tyr a great deal to afford a permit to access this place from the guild that owned it. Breeding further divergence in his belief system that capitalism was anything but right.

Or, perhaps, it was proof that it was...? If the greed of the guilds wasn't so apparent, many would have access to the killing fields and men could grow strong at such a pace as to come to their own conclusions. Instead, it was patrolled by golems and cordoned off by mana towers. Slaughtering any 'monster' that made their way too far afield from the dungeon that was responsible for spawning them. Much more powerful than that which had been sucked dry by Ellemar, but shallow and far more accessible.

Places like this existed all over the world, ensuring that the monsters one might find in the wild were fairly weak. Ancestors of others, like the barghest that was supposedly the product of inbreeding between grimm and natural canids. They were still a decent opponent for the average person, but their spira dimmed over the generations. Based on the creatures he'd fought in the cave, newly spawned monsters were exceptionally unbalanced and more 'profitable' in terms of gain when killing them. Only after many months or years would their spira stabilize, metabolized into their cores.

“What is this place?”

“They call it the red meadow. The Titan's Hand mercenary guild owns the charter here and uses it as a training and harvesting zone.” He pointed to the golems, the towers, and the vast pile of monster corpses decomposing in the sun. Separated by race, they would be harvested only when the appropriate time came. This was the direction in which humanity had evolved. Too lazy or uninterested with killing the monsters themselves, they let them roam free through a mock town. Slaughtering one another and engaged in an eternal struggle for dominance in the controlled environment.

A collection of structures surrounding the gaping hole in the land where the mana was thickest. Thick enough to warp life and create some of its own. Seemingly at random, the roped off 'spawn points' would do exactly as the name implied. Creatures would just appear from thin air, heralded by a dull cracking noise and lit alarm beacons.

Alex shrugged, leveling her ranseur and making to spit a very surprised goblin coming around a corner of one of the houses on the end of it. That was, before Tyr caught the weapon in her hands. “What? Are we not here to kill monsters?”

“Goblins come from the same place. I'm not sure about the specificity of why or how, considering their presumably earthly origins, but they aren't monsters.” He said that, but these creatures were young. Days old and given the body of an adult of their kind, it was bizarre. Most of them just stood and stared with open mouths, as if they'd never seen a human before. Their minds were blank slates and their hands free of sin. Spat into the world brand new with nothing but instinct, lost and confused. He wondered what kind of madness would claw at his mind if the same had been done to him.

To know sentience suddenly and viscerally, without any experience or belief system. Perhaps that was why monsters were so violent. Goblins though, at least these ones, lay on one side of a spectrum. They either ran, cowardly, or they approached the pair with no fear in them and babbled away in a tongue that Tyr couldn't understand. When he offered them an apple from his ring they would normally disappear, maybe they were hungry? In any case, they were not aggressive.

Tyr kicked a knobby limbed, green-gray skinned humanoid running by him in the head. Crushing its flimsy skull under the steel plating at the tip of his boots.

“Hey! You can do it but I can't?” Alex glared at him in exasperation. She wanted to get to training as soon as possible, but Tyr was just skulking about hooting at goblins and giving them fruits and vegetables in exchange for whatever conversation he was able to have.

“That's not a goblin.” Tyr flipped the creature over to reveal a segmented jaw beneath the otherwise generic form. “See?”

“Ew... What in the twelve hells...?” The monsters jaw was limp in death, open to reveal mottled flesh warped and melted like the wax of a candle. Nothing like human teeth, it was a nest of long spiny barbs. It's tongue was a purple mass the size of a cucumber, looking like a snake lying in wait at the back of its throat. Now that Tyr mentioned it, she did notice it was a bit larger than the others. “Why does it's mouth look like that?”

“It's a troviskan. They are rudimentary shapeshifters, and they are fairly... Er... Let's just say that their known for doing some rather foul things.” As if to accentuate the point, another busied itself with sniffing at its deceased kin's corpse before Tyr killed it as well. No need for that kind of exhibition with Alex standing here. They were mostly thoughtless in his experience, looking for hosts to carry the eggs of their young. Like wasps, the larva would seize the stem of the brain and take control of the host body by force. At which point the host would crawl away into some dark place, creating more larvae. Larvae the parent would swallow and allow it to take place of their tongue, which would serve as something akin to to ammunition in making more.

If not for the clear changes most notable to the mouth of their victim and the fact many didn't survive the hatching based on the smell, they'd be a far more dangerous threat. Either way, they were disgusting creatures.

“You know all of this... How, exactly?” Alex didn't miss the finer points of the interaction, taking note to remember to avoid anything like it. The grubs attempting to flee the flames burning their host body squealing and popping under the influence of the heat.

“Not much better in the way of knowledge than how to kill something before it kills you.” He shrugged. “Just my opinion. This is the first time I've seen one in person though, they are pretty rare outside of swamps and bogs.”

“I... See...” His violent predilections would have concerned her a great deal before, but Alex was trying her best to see things from his point of view. To learn and therefore be safe from the predation of monsters and men. It wasn't that she valued their lives overmuch, but Tyr was machine cold and ruthless. He didn't balk in the slightest at the blood, the smell, none of it.

That which was a weakness before, experience had revealed it to be a strength. Killing men on the other hand still seemed hard, but the lesson in the forest sat at the back of her mind. As long as she felt some hesitation in killing her own kind, she couldn't be too far gone.

“How does this help with practical experience?” She asked. Two golems passed by lazily, staring at them with red eyes before determining they were perfectly human. Or at least close enough. One got a little too close to comfort in its observation of Tyr, but moved away eventually. “These aren't men.”

“Do you want to go kill men? I know where to find some.” Again, Tyr was cold and dead in the eye, bereft of any moral quandary.

“No...” She shook her head with a resolution. “I'm trying my best to empathize with you, but how can you be so cold? Better yet, why do you want to kill?”

“I don't want to kill anyone. I have to. Sometimes. There is a difference.”

“I don't understand.”

“I hope you never do. I can't explain it.”

She wanted him to make her understand, but he couldn't. He was bad with people, as far as his interpersonal relationships with them went. Unless he was faking, he could do his best to behave in a way that mimicked their social cues, trying to put himself in their shoes. But here, on a hunt, he felt no compulsion to behave any differently than he always did. Alex would come to see the truth, or she'd die.

He hoped she didn't. There was a warmth in her that Tyr didn't want to see gone from the world. A protective instinct only slightly inferior to that which he felt for Iscari.

“See that?” He pointed to a seemingly innocuous wooden bench standing before a shop front. Initially, this place had been built as a very real settlement, but over time the dungeon had experienced a series of 'breaks' that were too random and dangerous for people to live right on top of it. After that, it have become a training ground for the guild and source of profit. Most of the structures were just empty frames with no purpose.

Alex nodded.

“Kill it.”

“Kill it? It's a bench!”

“No, it's a mimic. They're monsters that--”

“I know what a mimic is!” She projected her irritation at such blatant condescension. Even a child would know what a mimic is. The stories were full of them. A very common monster. Everyone also knew... “It's not a chest. Aren't all mimics... Chests? Like, for treasure? What use is a bench!”

Alex was skeptical, but Tyr wasn't a liar. Not to her, or their friends. Sometimes, he was almost too honest, not having the common sense to remain silent or refrain from answering a rhetorical question.

“Monster or not, they deserve more consideration than to be held to racial stereotypes. Let's go.” He replied, changing his sword into a hammer and smashing the thing to bloody splinters. As soon as it had been struck, viscous green fluid and a chortling rasp came from what remained of the furniture, astonishing her. It really was just that, a mimic. Something she would have known if she'd had the foresight to ward herself with a level one divination spell. It was the little things, showing her how unprepared she was for the outside world and stinging at her pride.

“I've noticed that you've picked up quite an aptitude for allomancy...” Alex mused, staring at the twisted panoply of flesh and wood, trying to make some conversation. “How did you get so good at it?”

“I'm just nice like that.” Unfortunately, Tyr wasn't much for small talk, but neither did he comment on the obvious 'I told you so'.

Correcting her mistake, they moved deeper into the town. One might imagine swarms of monsters darting about or great tentacled entities. Things in dungeons, but it wasn't like that. It was all fairly orderly. Monsters were allowed free reign of the place with only sparse interruption, and then the golems would decimate the population and drag their corpses off for harvesting.

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Here and there, courtesy of the goblins, one could easily determine that they'd begun to worship their artificial overlords. Creating mosaics of fecal matter and blood on the walls to show them dragging off fallen kin or otherwise. Goblins weren't worth much money, and the crystal expenditure of the golems wasn't suited to targeting them. As a result, to the small green creatures, these golems must seem like some kind of protector.

“I had no idea places like this existed. I'd always thought that a dungeon would be... I dunno. Treasure chests, traps... Big castles full of monsters and adventurers, maybe.”

Tyr was standing at a crossroads with his sword held loose at his side, staring into the shadows of an alley. “It's still like that in some places, but not around civilized lands. Where there's money to be made, there's an investment to making more of it as efficiently as possible. These things have been around for hundreds of years or longer. Blood, skin, bones, stuff like that – all sell for money. Then you have the mana crystals that grow in the ravine on the other side of town. Matter gets infused with mana and becomes all sorts of things. The golems or odd adventurer team will show up, tear it all from the ground, and take off. More spawn, they build up and breed until the expenditure warrants another gathering, and the cycle repeats.”

“I see...” Things in Haran were different. So different as to be unrecognizable. They built walls and fortifications around their dungeons and only killed that which came out. Otherwise, the monsters inside were typically free to do as they pleased. Some knights or the odd troupe of paladins would come for a 'hunt', but beyond that the wardens only watched them. This just seemed... “Isn't that a little cruel?”

It felt odd to empathize with monsters like that, but she did. They were like cattle.

“Yes.” Tyr replied. Showing one of the first signs of any morality. “Yes, it is. But it's testament of how far gone most of humanity is. Half of the monsters in this dungeon are sentient. Goblins, mostly, by the looks of it. 'Monsters', mind you. Heavy on the quotation marks. Imagine living your short period of existence constantly hunted or under threat of death. It's vile, and while I understand both sides of the coin, living things deserve to struggle, not be farmed like for money. The days of protecting the world from the threat are long over, that is not why these places exist. Not here, at least.”

“You're capable of empathy after all.” Alex would've found that hilarious if not for the grim reality. “For goblins, no less. Why goblins?”

“Because they are living, thinking beings. Sapient humanoids. Not all of what you call monsters can claim to be, but they can. Most are friendly, familial and peaceful. I have seen goblin culture, and they are not monsters. They just want to live like anything else.” He sighed, getting a far off look in his eye. Tyr had changed, and he was showing Alex now. He might not be the bright and heroic man she'd prefer, but he wasn't as murder forward as she once believed. “As far as I'm concerned...”

He paused for a while, stepping away to smash a fountain to smithereens, revealing yet another mimic.

“Man are monsters. And that applies to myself twice over.” He donned his spellbreakers for the second time, squaring up to fight an eight legged arachne that observed them from a nearby rooftop. Akin to the mythical centaur, with the thorax of a spider and a beautiful woman mounted where its head should be.

She raised her hands in surrender. Thinking to itself 'this guys got problems' before disappearing into the shadows. A young arachne not yet awakened, Tyr felt no interest in chasing her down. Another sentient race. Only looking for a meal or perhaps some peace and quiet.

“I brought you here for practical experience, but also to learn a lesson.” He spoke softly. “To believe that you are the authority that judges what gets to live and die is incredibly arrogant. I am a hypocrite even as I say this, but you are smarter and more able than I am. We kill because we have to sometimes, but that doesn't mean you have to be a 'monster'. You are not like me, and few people are.”

“I understand.” She replied. Not having been forced to use her weapon even once, she'd still learned several lessons.

“The first lesson.” Tyr spoke again, nodding in contentment as she caught a mimic of her own and fried it with lightning. “Is vigilance. Always be ready. Even when we are in the estate, I am constantly waiting for something and I don't even know why. I figure a normal person would do the same, but I guess this is uncommon. It is very important to be ready.”

“The second lesson is to understand the taking of a life. I don't think it's hard. If given proper incentive, I'll kill practically anyone or anything--”

“Even me?” She asked before correcting herself. Alex was under no illusion that Tyr cared for her, and it didn't hurt her to believe that. After so long since their friendship had been broken she'd hardened her heart, now they were little more than partners and associates by obligation. “Even... Iscari? Or your father?”

“Don't interrupt. I would die for you, without hesitation. Not because of some grand romantic gesture but because it's my duty. Because you are good and because I care about you. As a friend, if that's what we are, or because I'm supposed to do that for my wife, I don't know. Feelings are complicated, but the truth rarely is. You are important and I would never willingly let harm befall you or any of the others. Proper incentive. I could be offered the world and I would spit on it if it meant keeping you safe. Do you understand?”

Alex blushed, nodding anxiously. As far as romantic gestures went, it was a poor one indeed, but she couldn't help but feel astonished at his blunt sincerity. Tyr was so confident. Saying it with an energy that communicated absolute truth and leaving no room for question or doubt. His charisma, if he had any at all, made her believe him on an instinctual level. If he'd used that tone of voice and authority when telling her that trees didn't exist – she might believe it. He'd never spoken to her this way, talking far more than he had since they were children.

“Taking a life is easy for me, but over time I have understood it is easy for me because I am a broken thing. But I can blame nobody for this. I did it to myself and I think my father wanted me to learn that lesson on my own... Maybe. I digress. The second lesson, simplified, is to be averse to hesitation. You don't have to kill. If you possess the power, you could disable. Detain your enemy by any means and flee. It is better to be safe than sorry. If a man, for example, meant you no threat – then what problem should he have with being shackled under a spell that causes him no pain?”

Tyr cleared his throat, sheathing his weapon before beating a particularly violent goblin to death beneath his plated gloves. It's club hadn't managed to inflict any damage at all, but he'd waited for the blow to fall before doing so. Restraint, this goblin wanted to kill him and found itself wanting. Tyr might not have it in spades, but he'd do this for the friends he'd made around the campfire. Those friends who'd helped him solve a problem after he'd made them aware of it. Good friends. Goblin friends.

“And the third lesson. Maybe the final lesson, apologies, I'm no great teacher. I had no idea what I'd say to you when we came out here. I am impulsive and rarely plan ahead.” He paused, looking back at her to ensure that she was listening.

“That's okay. Go ahead, then, o wise master.”

“The third lesson is...” In truth, there was no third lesson. Tyr was honest when he said that he planned little. He wasn't the type to do so. Things like combat could only be configured at the most basic level, but often enough he'd found himself holding onto a strategy for victory only to find it go awry. The warehouse was one example of planning gone wrong. He'd not change it for himself, because he wasn't the type of person to do that, but he accepted it. Tyr's mistakes and failings were his own, and he was endlessly thankful for Varinn who had beaten those lessons into him.

“Humility. Perhaps.”

“Humility?” She asked, skeptical again.

“Yes. Humility for the enemy, humility for yourself. Humility to your circumstances. Whatever they may be. Humility is not an insistence that you are weak as everyone believes. Maybe it is, maybe I'm wrong – but I doubt it. I, for example, am no better or more worthy of life than that goblin I've just killed. He, or she, their genders are difficult to differentiate... They died because they do not understand this lesson. I am humble to the fact that most likely, they've never been given time to learn it. I am humble to the fact that in the great scheme of things, it could not threaten me – but I killed it. I can live with that, because I am humble to the struggle. Here in the wild, as artificial a 'wild' as it is...”

He thought for a second. How to phrase it, how to better communicate the contradictory feelings he had about the situation. His behaviors, the nuance in how life played out.

“Predators often proactively eliminates threats, there is humility in that. If at all possible a worm could be a threat, it kills that worm. Exterminates all others in relation to it if they do not submit to the order. For all intents and purposes, this is the code I've lived by. The fibers that make up my being. I am not better, but I will be better. Or I will die.” He shrugged. “And that is okay. I am humble to the fact that some things need to die. That I, specifically, need to kill them. I killed a great many men not so long ago. I am humble to the fact that there is a great deal of blood on my hands. Men who might not have needed to die. I did it for greed and because I saw myself as above them. I am humble to the fact that this is who I am, but similarly humble to the fact that it is not good to be this way. A man's got to have a code. A belief system to guide them. This is mine. Forgive me for the drama, because believe me – I hate it too, but... This is the law of the wild.”

“A bear doesn't care if you're a counts daughter. They want to live, and if your life or the flesh surrounding your bones would facilitate continuance, they'll take it. If it means they and their young or kin survive, it's an easy thing. Because they are beasts or at least beings of instinct. You are nothing to them but a potential threat, prey, or both. I don't know. Ultimately, you must humble yourself to the fact that mountains and seas and all other aspects of nature will stand tall and wide, uncaring of the fact that you ever existed at all. Understanding your insignificance is important, standing at the level of everything around you. Do you understand?”

She didn't. Who could understand the ramble he'd just gone on? But the wider lesson was learned. To be humble, which didn't mean to claim weakness or any lack of confidence. It meant to accept who you were and your place in the food chain. It was a depressing way of looking at things, but everything was ultimate out here trying to survive. And knowing that your own survival was intimately caught in that web between all living things could only be wise. Humans often thought they were better, keeping animals in cages for the novelty of it. But nothing alive would accept their death without struggling first, and as soon as that cage was opened, a decision would be made.

Without response, Alex buried the tip of her ranseur into another troviskan. Even if she could not feel what he was feeling, his inhuman coldness, she could try to understand it.

He showed her a part of who she was, and she saw him in so many different shades. A man, or a woman for that matter, had to have a code. To be humble toward the struggles that permeated existence. Sometimes you couldn't wait around for a threat to come to you.