Tyrus stood motionless, his gaze fixed on the distance with a sense of wonder.

“What was that?”

Massive amounts of mana would frequently erupt from a distance for a period. Tyrus immediately recognized its origin and realized it was the same island he had flown past earlier. Over there, clusters of magical energy clashed, bursting like radiant beams that lit up the night sky. Even at his current vantage point, simply observing the spectacle made his heart beat faster.

"There has to be someone out there battling the dark sorcerer," Tyrus muttered. “The question is who? Selena comes to mind, but it could also be the others.”

Then again, wondering who was fighting didn’t matter all that much. Finally, an overseer was doing their job and taking care of the threat, which was a relief. Tyrus could only hope that the sorcerer would be handled appropriately, and that the tainted mana would dissipate from the Wasteful Wetlands. It would also deter Igneal from running straight for the artifact.

But besides that, Tyrus would be lying if he said he wasn’t curious at all. In reality, if safety permits, he would be thrilled to be in proximity and observe the unfolding events. Who in their right mind wouldn’t, though? Watching skilled sorcerers engage in a battle would be an incredible spectacle. What type of magic were they employing? Who had the upper hand?

If Selena were involved, he would envision wildfires consuming the landscape, or towering pillars of flames. Possibly a storm that unleashed fiery projectiles and spread across a vast region! Each sounded impressive, and slightly terrifying. If it was anything else, that would be nice, too. Seeing how adults used magic in combat not only provided him with practical knowledge, but also leave him astounded in numerous ways.

He caught a whiff of something in the distance, snapping him out of his daze. One of those four-legged swamp beasts appeared on top of a rocky ledge. If he had to compare it to an animal, a wolf seemed to fit the description, albeit bigger and if they were more suited for swamps.

With drool dripping down its maw, the creature locked eyes with Tyrus before it and hunkered down, paws crunching on dead plants. With a growl, the creature dashed toward him in a frenzy.

Tyrus sighed. “Seriously? We’re doing this now?”

Tyrus waited until the last second to hop away from the incoming maw of razor-sharp teeth. Stupid thing didn’t seem that smart, because once he moved out of the way, the beast slid and spun on its heels, ready for another round. That is until it was met with a sword through its head. The beast collapsed with a lifeless thud. Blood oozed from its head, collecting on dead leaves in a pool of red. Tyrus frowned and pulled out his blade.

“Beasts should really learn not to butt heads with predators. Just because I’m small doesn’t mean I’m easy to beat.”

After being snapped out of his trance, his attention shifted back to the task of finding the others. The trail he caught a sniff of before definitely belonged to Igneal. He hadn’t mentioned it to anyone before, but if he interacted with someone for a period, he could recognize them by scent alone. Selena, Igneal, and the hat thief both carried the scent of campfires and smoke. He hated admitting this, but he held Igneal’s more memorable.

In contrast, Fiona didn't have the same scent as her relatives. Hers were more like a forest with a subtle hint of smoldering embers, which was weird when she commonly used fire spells. He guessed there was a reason she smelled like this, but the answer eluded him. Whatever the reason, he found Fiona’s scent a lot more pleasant than the others. Too much of something would mess with his senses. As for Reo and Grant, they were probably the worst. They smelled mostly of sweat and metal. Sometimes it was wood, and other times flowers.

“I wonder what I smell like. Probably like Reo and Grant. I sweat like crazy and always end up covered in blood. I also roll around in mud and have gotten wet many times before...” Without thinking, Tyrus raised his arm and sniffed. A powerful stench assaulted his nose, and he recoiled away in disgust.

“Okay, never doing that again. I should really wash myself clean when I get the chance. Do I really smell like this around people?”

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Tyrus, while frowning about his disgusting aroma, moved with haste toward the scent trail.

***

Tyrus had completely forgotten just how terrible the situation was in the Wasteful Wetlands. Even after defeating that dog-like beast, more creatures popped up, wanting to claim him as their dinner. The only benefit that came from this was that it was a distraction from his personal woes and an outlet for his pent-up frustrations. He also saw it as a chance to train his skills without the use of magic. Also, the explosions of magic he witnessed lit a fire into his heart. He wanted to reach those levels as quickly as possible.

Without the use of augmentation and Beast Transformation—two things that would only drain his mana and stamina quickly—Tyrus thought to hone his battle senses and swordsmanship while he was at it. There might come a time where he would have to rely on those two things in case he couldn’t access magic or Beast Transformation for whatever reason.

It was the same old creatures that plagued his path. Fangs and claws, shoddy weapons and green ooze, nothing he couldn’t handle. Goblins were easy to defeat because of their skinny bodies and the terrible handling of their weapons. Since he was stronger and faster even without special effects, dodging and killing them in one blow was child’s play. Most fell for the feint attack to their head before decapitation. For the others, a stab in their necks was effective enough. Their lack of armor made targeting other vital areas a lot easier.

Evading the green ooze from mud toads was the easiest part of battling the swamps’ residents. Though the ooze travels far, they were pathetically slow compared to Tyrus. All he had to do was sprint forward and take a step sideways until it settled and dissipated. That was usually all it took for him to close the distance. By then, his sword would meet his targets.

He was getting better at spotting mud and finding areas that wouldn’t constrict him, such as roots and bushes. Without mud stubbornly sticking to his soles, he felt lighter and quicker on his feet compared to the goblins he first fought. This came in handy, especially when his opponents shot at him using projectiles. All he had to do was run. The toads had trouble hitting him as he constantly darted about like a frog, jumping on boulders or using trees as cover. When the opportunity seemed right, he would thrust his sword right at their heads.

The beasts he had the most trouble with were the swamp imps. Their ability to fly truly made them a pain in the butt. Unless they were close and willing to fight close-quarters, there wasn’t much Tyrus could do to their airborne selves. Although he had gotten accustomed to targeting enemies on even ground, getting a hand on one was a struggle in itself. It was especially more difficult once they got a good look at him, massacring anything that posed a threat to him. Well, not a threat per se, but wanted to kill him. None of these beasts stood a chance.

All his life, Tyrus had only known to fight, mostly because of hunting. Without a stable food source, he had to go out and find his own food, like boars and hares. A lot of times, when he isn’t looking for food and taking a break, some beast would challenge him. Most of the time, it was because he intruded on their territory. Always, it would wind up with him chasing the creature off and leaving them bloodied.

Whether it was because he was a demi-human, there was a sense of fulfillment and satisfaction in these victories. Although small in the eyes of others, he took great pride in seeing his efforts be rewarded. That reward came in the form of occupying a new home, food, or even how much he has progressed when he first started out. In another sense, he held great pride in his abilities and garnering achievements.

Maybe that’s why he wanted to become an explorer. Not because he wanted to get rich and live a lavish lifestyle, but to show others he could achieve the status they held. Rather, he sought the chance to spread his wings and use his skills with no need to hold himself back. He would reach uncharted waters, explore previously unseen lands, and eventually reach heights that no other beast had previously gone before. Such thoughts have only grown when a few have seen what he was capable of.

For the first time in his life, someone acknowledged him, and that’s exactly what filled him with this insatiable feeling. The feeling of succeeding and growing his skills without worry. To show Fiona, Grant, and Reo that the chance they took on him wouldn’t be a waste. And especially, to prove it to Wanderer, if they ever got the chance to meet again, that they hadn’t made the mistake of saving Tyrus and allowing him to leave his cave.

No matter what, he would struggle to better himself and secure a life worth living. Maybe it was a blessing in disguise that the black tigers abandoned him. Would he have met such great people if he stayed in the Beastfolk Kingdom? For all he knew, they were probably a bunch of prideful and rude folk.

Heed the disciples of darkness that bends the wills of others. Only their deaths will liberate our people. May Murus save us all.

“...Speaking of folk, what that bird said was weird. Bending the wills of others... Is the dark sorcerer controlling them? Clearly, it must involve some sort of magic, but what is the exact method? There must be a spell that can take control of a person’s mind. What are the conditions and how were the Beastfolk able to snap out of it? There’s also Liberate our people... Murus.”

So many questions, yet no answers to fill them. Tyrus silently pondered, stepping on the thick roots that decorated the path. The questions circled his mind, each sparking another.

As time passed, the scent trail he had followed wasn’t that far to begin with. And before long, he caught up to Igneal in no time at all.