Chapter 43 - Triumphant Loser

"Are you happy? I did it…" Ren looked up at the man, out of breath.

"Don't get in over your head, you killed a youngling," Tristan knelt down beside the wolf's corpse.

The man ran his hand over the beast's fur, feeling its neck as if checking the wound that finished it off. Standing back up, he extended his hand down to Ren.

"Still...good job for a kid who looks like he hasn't seen the light of day in a decade," Tristan gave him a slight smile.

He looked at the man's hand for a moment, feeling uncertain as to if he could trust the helping hand of someone who just plunged him into battle against a wolf--but, he was too worn out to deny it.

"Hey, don't try and down-sell my epic achievements! If this happened back on Earth, I'd be a legend," Ren chuckled wryly.

"Exactly--on Earth. Maybe you haven't realized it yet, but your body has been adjusting to this world, acclimating to its new mana. To put it in terms your nerd-ass will understand--you're superhuman. So choking out a wolf isn't exactly that impressive," Tristan helped him stand.

"I thought I was feeling stronger, huh…" Ren squeezed his fist as if feeling his own strength out.

"Yeah but your "superhuman" is just "human" in this world. Once you actually learn some magic and maybe put some beef on those scrawny arms of yours, you can be considered above average, maybe,"

"You can't give me one win, can you?" Ren sighed.

Tristan turned to the right, gesturing for Ren to follow behind him. The two entered the heart of the forest, pushing past thickets as the scent of nature picked up in the wind. It was as if the land itself was alive, the branches creaking throughout the gathering of trees. The sun became absent as shadows fell over his skin in a cooling embrace.

It seemed impossible to traverse the unconquered land without trampling fallen leaves with each step, diligently avoiding the hanging cobwebs that housed mysterious arthropods. The sight of these webs made his skin run over with an itch, feeling the thousand tiny legs of insects crawl over his skin, only to find nothing there as he patted his body.

"I'm guessing you figured out where these goblins are?" Ren asked, carefully stepping through the thick growth of green.

"I did the minute we dropped down here,"

"Then what the hell were you doing--was all of that about "lures" and "misdirections" just a lie then?" Ren huffed, cutting a prying bush away with his sword.

"It wasn't a lie at all, it's something you should remember. I knew that wolf was watching us, so I saw the chance to give you a fight," Tristan gave him a smirk.

"What're you smiling about? I almost got eaten--hell, it got a good snack out of my arm!" Ren yelled.

Tristan swiftly placed his hand over the boy's mouth as his voice left his lips. It was if his high volume awakened the forest itself as the leaves rattled, bushes rustling with secretive beasts.

"Keep it down. If the goblins become aware of our presence, they might just hightail it out of here," Tristan slowly moved his hand away.

He nodded his head and kept quiet as he traversed the dense forest, avoiding the plethora of branches that attempted to block his path. The air soon became noticeably humid, causing his leather to itch against his sweating skin.

The deeper they got into the boundless forest, the more apparent the screams of nature rang through the air. Blades of grass reached knee-high, making his mind wander about the possibilities of creatures slithering through the enigmatic green.

"How much farther?" He asked in a whine, dragging his feet forward.

A sharp glance from Tristan almost made him forget the egregious situation he was in as he felt a cold run over his skin.

"How much farther?" He asked in a whisper this time.

"Do you think I'm god or something?"

"Well, you know magic--so to me, yes," Ren responded, feeling his foot land on something mushy as he continued walking in a grimace.

"Just be patient, as long as we play our cards right--those little devils will give themselves away. Goblins aren't particularly conservative creatures, they throw parties in their tribes almost every minute of the day that they aren't spending pillaging and killing others," Tristan kept his eyes forward.

It was hard to wrap his head around the level of caution the man was displaying when tracking these suspected goblins. Just from a brief exposure to Tristan's mana, he can tell he is at the very least comparable to Sora, who seems almost like the epitome of physical power. Meanwhile, goblins are basically the rodents of the monster world.

As he raised his arm to move high-standing blades of grass out of his way, he noticed the blood that had been seeping from his bite wound, staining the previously clean metal.

"Am I going to get infected from this--?" Ren asked worryingly, holding his arm close to his body now.

"If you were worried about that, you should've asked me the second it happened," Tristan looked back, slowing down his pace.

He reached into the brown pouch attached to his belt, moving his silver coat to gain access to it. Ren watched as he retrieved a small vial containing an amber liquid inside.

"Give me your arm," Tristan stopped in front of him.

Confused, he raised his arm in compliance, looking at the vial curiously. Now that they had stopped moving, it felt as if the forest was closing in on them as if the many predators that ruled that land had taken notice of their existence.

"Without the armor, dumbass," Tristan sighed.

"Oh...right," Ren's face flushed over with embarrassment.

He undid the leather straps holding the silver guard to his forearm, grabbing it and rolling up the tattered black sleeve of his shirt. Seeing his own wound revealed to himself made his head become light at the sight of the blood, covering his pale skin in crimson. The two holes from the bite mark looked as if he had been shot in the forearm.

"It got you good, didn't it? Pretty gnarly," Tristan poked around his arm.

Each touch made him wince, not that it hurt him--more so that he feared the potentiality of that pain. Tristan popped the cap off of the small vial before flipping it over, allowing the golden liquid to pour directly onto his wounds.

"What the hell is this stuff anyways?" Ren asked, closing one eye as his wounds stung.

"Fermented satyr blood," Tristan answered, pushing the cork back into the vial to close it off.

"Blood--? Are you sure that's safe to put directly into my wound like that?" Ren watched in disgust now as the liquid seeped into the holes on his forearm.

Tristan pulled a roll of white material from the same pouch, wrapping Ren's wound tightly.

"You'll be fine, this is high-quality stuff--so don't waste any more of it, would you? Let's go," Tristan began to walk again.

Rolling his sleeve back down, he strapped the piece of armor back to his forearm before running to catch up with the impatient man. The trees constantly rained with fallen leaves as they pushed deeper into the land of nature, causing him to constantly mistake leaves for bugs landing on his head.

"Stop," Tristan whispered sharply, raising his arm in front of Ren.

"What--?" Ren came to an abrupt stop, nearly colliding against the man's arm.

The distinct smell of smokey air then reached his nostrils, "A fire?" Ren whispered.

Tristan nodded, "It's close. Stay behind me."

The man ducked down low enough so that the high grass kept his existence obscured, Ren followed suit, moving closely behind Tristan as his heart rate began to rise. They approached the end of the treeline, growing closer as the smell of smoke was replaced by the aroma of cooked meat.

Ren nearly jumped as he watched Tristan suddenly stand up from their stealthy spots. Looking up--the coast was clear.

"That's our destination, it seems," Tristan commented.