It took Tyrus two days to discover an efficient way of mana absorption without the need for deep gulps like a fish. He also discovered a way to expand his mana capacity. Through deep meditation, his body experienced remarkable improvements.

A calm mind and heart were the requirements for a steady flow. He not only experienced a continuous flow of mana into his body but also felt a tiny but significant strengthening of his bond with his element. It was progress either way. After draining most of his reservoir and refilling it, it took him thirty minutes for it to come back.

Strengthening his heart was necessary to increase his mana capacity. Just like any other muscle, it would need constant training for its efficiency and output to increase. He likened it to doing push-ups every day to build strength. To boost the heart's strength, it had to be put through lots of activity. Tyrus was relieved he didn't have to commit to anything extravagant in that matter. The reason for that was that he could increase his mana reservoir and body strength. Since he was technically an Augmentation Sorcerer also, he was building the strength of both specializations. It was killing three birds with one stone.

Slowly but surely, Tyrus had made a mental timetable on specific days for training and rest. It would do him no good if he were to contract an illness from overworking his body. He had no one to care for him and his lack of medical expertise may result in certain death. He had to be careful from here on out.

“Would the healing salve help those who are sick? If so, I would love to have some on me in case of emergencies.”

Tyrus mentally shrugged and shook off the thought. It did him no good dreaming about the medicine. He emerged from his shack and stretched every muscle. Once that was done, he checked his gear–which he had little–and got into position. At three, he broke into a jog. Running serves as both an effective exercise and a great way to strengthen the heart. It enhances the leg muscles and endurance too.

Though he ran through the forest, Tyrus couldn’t help but feel a bit bored. He always found running to be a dull activity unless he was chasing his food. One was left with their own thoughts as the wind hammered their face and ears. It was a mindless activity, yet he persisted, knowing it would be worth it in the end.

It didn’t take him long to finish his non-stop hour run. He leaned against his shack, watching his sweat drip onto the floor as he gasped for air. It had been a while since Tyrus ran that much, not since his hunt for Wanderer.

Because of his lineage and years hunting in the wild, his stamina was decent. His strength, on the other hand, left much to be desired. What kind of Augmentation Sorcerer, a specialization that mainly focused on increasing the body’s capabilities, would be as weak as a lamb? Tyrus believed that if he found himself in a situation that required physical strength or speed instead of magic and suffered the consequences, then he would have only himself to blame.

Wiping his brow, Tyrus headed toward the nearest tree. He climbed it until he reached a branch that was sturdy enough to support his weight. As he took humongous deep breaths, he lowered himself until he hung on to it with both arms. After he strengthened his grip and was comfortable, he wasted no time and pulled himself up.

The phrase ‘don’t stop’ repeated every time his chin surpassed the branch. Once he did ten pull-ups, he'd have a tough time going any further, and his muscles would be screaming in pain. Suddenly, his hold on the bark weakened, and he lost his grip. Instead of losing his balance and crashing onto the ground, Tyrus landed on his feet. He breathed a sigh of relief and watched his trembling arms.

“Ten is my limit? I thought I could do more…”

He was disappointed, but that feeling was fleeting as he waited for his arms to recover. Leaning against the tree, Tyrus absentmindedly twiddled his thumbs. Time passed, and he felt the ache of his muscles. He decided it was time to take a break and continue later. When he could move his arms again, he stood up and gathered the materials needed to build a fire. With just a single thought of magic, flames burst to life, and he retrieved the other leg from the boar.

“This ring is amazing!”

As it turns out, the ring had another feature that he found extremely helpful. It was just a hunch, but Tyrus had wondered if items didn’t age once inside the ring. Despite being days since hunting the boar and cutting off its legs, the meat still looked and smelled the same as it did on the very first day. He found no blemishes or signs of it spoiling. It took little for meat to spoil, and the one in his hands was in perfect condition.

“Should I risk it? I really don’t want to get sick…” Tyrus sat there for a good minute, pondering, until he shrugged his shoulders and started up the fire with magic. He placed his trust in the ring’s feature. If he actually became ill, he would deal with that hurdle then.

Fast-forward after the meat was cooked, and he finished his helpings–which he found just as delicious as the last time. He licked his lips and got into a push-up position. Though his muscles still ached and begged him to stop, Tyrus ignored them and began. Just like the pull-ups from before, he reached the tenth mark and stopped.

“Okay, that’s it for today,” he groaned. With only a few uncomplicated exercises, Tyrus established his strength limits. He can keep adding more little by little until it feels just right.

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Unbeknownst to him, Tyrus hadn’t realized he had been smiling the entire time. Even the drumming beat of his heart had escaped his attention. He sat motionless, fixated on the sky until it was time to go.

****

The next day, Tyrus was sitting upright on his straw bed, eyes closed, and his legs crossed. He steadied his breathing and focused on one aspect of his body–mana. Every time he completed a cycle of breaths, his blood circulation would increase, and more mana was injected into his mana reservoir. Tyrus felt his mana reservoir expand in tiny increments.

He opened his eyes after exhaling for the final time. Although Tyrus wanted to press on, he knew it was not advisable. Just like any other reservoir, too much of a substance and it would overflow. The mana within his heart had a limit, and pushing that limit would lead to consequences–consequences he dared not think about. He would have to continue where he left off later in the day.

Tyrus left the shack and positioned himself in front of the door. Soon, the magic on his palm crackled to life, and he pointed the element at the sky.

“Release!”

The same scenario happened before; no magic was emitted. The element remained stationary in his hand, seemingly mocking him. Tyrus shouted again and again, even going as far as using both hands to emit a spell much similar to Fireball. Alas, no meaningful results had shown itself. For the first time that Tyrus had started his journey as a sorcerer, he had encountered a wall not easily surmountable.

He chewed at his fingernails as he mumbled. “What do I do…? I thought all I needed to do was imagine the magic I would like to use. Didn’t Wanderer say something about the mind and all that? Have I done all I can on my own?”

Tyrus scowled as a scenario popped into mind–one he had wanted to avoid as long as possible. Was it about time to search for answers related to magic in a village? He's already understood the nuances of mana, such as its storage location and other aspects. He hit a slump when it came to casting spells.

“If I want to learn more, I’ll have to enter a city or village," he muttered, walking circles in the shack. "But that would lead to having to interact with other people. I might need to find a teacher or a place with books! Wait, that’s a problem on its own. What should I do?”

Tyrus held onto the side of his head while ruffling his hair. For what felt like hours, he stayed in that position until his stomach grumbled.

“I can’t think on an empty stomach,” he said finally. He summoned his dagger and took one last glance at his shack. Tyrus shifted his eyes in the general direction of the village. “I can’t go back. They’re probably looking for those responsible for the killings.”

Head shaking, Tyrus walked away. The creek where he came across the boar was his primary destination. Animals tend to flock areas with a dependable water source, thus he designated that location as his hunting grounds. When he arrived at his destination, he was expecting to see some deer or boars in a relaxed state. However, something else had taken their place. Tyrus halted his movement and scaled the tallest tree, surveying the newcomers.

A group of three- two men and a woman- engaged in conversation next to the creek. One of the men was equipped with a suit of armor that left only his head uncovered. The shield strapped to his back would have been difficult for Tyrus to manage alone. The other man standing next to him was shorter by a head and had a smaller build. Fastened to his leather belt were two daggers that were currently sheathed. The last person was a woman of small stature who grasped a staff. Her wardrobe was a stark contrast to the others. She was dressed in a black cape with red stripes and leather protection that covered her chest and arms.

“Reo, where did you say the goblin hideout was?” the woman said.

“So, you haven’t been paying attention. I’m sure I told you it’s north of this creek.”

“Are you sure? It feels like we’ve been running around in circles.”

Reo rolled his eyes. “Just leave the navigation to me, Fiona. I know how to read a map.”

“Doesn’t seem like it,” Fiona muttered. She turned to the other man. “Grant, what about you? Do you think Reo got us lost?”

“I highly doubt it,” Grant said. “Reo has an extraordinary sense of direction, even among scouts. If we were to depend on him to navigate even the foulest of places in Dharmere, I would trust him with my life.”

“Not the answer I was looking for, but whatever. Let’s just keep moving. The longer we stand here, the more time we waste. Those goblins will not kill themselves.”

“You’re the one who stopped us,” Reo said as he took the lead. Fiona refrained from responding and stationed herself in the middle, with Grant covering the rear. Tyrus kept his eyes on the trio, refraining from moving until Fiona came to an abrupt halt.

“Huh, that’s weird…”

Grant's hand went to his sword's hilt. “What is it?”

Fiona surveyed her surroundings without responding. She angled her head and glanced at the canopy. “I guess it was nothing? Must have been my imagination.”

“She’s finally losing it,” Reo added.

“On Sthito's name, I will poke your eye with my staff if you say another word.”

Reo didn't want to test her bluff, so he continued at his pace and the others followed suit. The forest returned to its usual self as their chatters faded away into the distance. After they left, Tyrus emerged from hiding. He took in large swigs of air while gripping his chest. “T-That was close! If I didn’t hold my breath, that girl would’ve found me out…”

When Tyrus knew Fiona was conscious of his presence, he panicked internally and held his breath. He prayed his plan would work, and it did. At a glance, he knew she was a sorcerer. Fiona had the same ethereal light gliding around her, yet it was drastically less than Wanderer's. If he had to compare them together, it was like a blizzard competing against a snow shower on who would release the most snow.

Typically, he was inclined to avoid human interaction whenever possible. He became used to navigating the world in his own way, improving himself at his own pace. However, this situation was unlike any he had encountered before. He had crossed paths with a sorcerer other than Wanderer, a rare and valuable opportunity.

Tyrus found himself at a crossroads in his magical development, a point where progress had grounded to a halt. It felt as if he had come up against an impenetrable wall, hindering his growth and leaving him yearning for more. But now, an unexpected glimmer of hope emerged. His magical understanding had some gaps, but they presented opportunities for expansion and breakthroughs. Those gaps weren't too wide to pass through or too strong to crumble.

There was also the possibility of hostility from the group, as Tyrus recalled his experience with the two thugs. The chances of finding people as generous and kind as Wanderer were slim. Taking risks was an essential part of making progress in his pursuit of magical knowledge and understanding. He was unwilling to let this opportunity slip through his fingers.

Slapping his cheeks lightly and adjusting his hat, Tyrus steeled himself for what lay ahead. He leaped off the tree branch and ran, his footsteps falling in sync with the trail left by the trio.