He was learning, though. Magic manipulation wasn’t just about shouting words; it required delicate hands and a focus that made his vision swim. He’d messed up more than once, learning the hard way that "mana blowback" felt like getting hit in the chest with a sledgehammer. The energy would kick back with nowhere to go because he’d botched the flow, knocking him flat on his ass.
Lisa finally admitted she was surprised it hadn't happened sooner. Apparently, Dragon Wings was an expert-level spell that usually took months of dedicated training.
Naturally, he lit her ass up for not mentioning the risk of his brain melting sooner. She just gave him that nonchalant, ethereal shrug.
“You lived, didn’t you…?”
That single line made Cedric’s mood turn sour, but he didn’t have the energy to argue. He’d gotten lucky, and he knew it.
During the quiet moments between training, the coyotes—especially the female—had become increasingly protective. She’d growled at Lisa on occasion, acting more like a jealous pup worried about her mom’s attention than a created beast. The males were more chill but incredibly attentive, their ears twitching at sounds Cedric couldn't even hear. They were starting to feel like more than just something he created; they felt like his pack.
On the second day, he dug deeper into Lisa’s utility. She had two primary abilities: Detect Life and Analyze. To demonstrate, she scanned the rusted, curved dagger he’d looted from the Kobold. The stats flickered onto the Grimoire’s pages:
[Curved Steel Dagger (Rusted)]
-
Durability: 12/24
-
Weight: 3lbs
-
Damage: 5 - 9 (10 to 13)
-
Note: Chance of Tetanus.
Her Detect Life had a thirty-mile range but came with a price. It drained her own mana pool and had two major blind spots: she couldn't sense the undead, and stealth magic could ghost right past her.
This world of Ezratan was proving to be a harsh teacher. Cedric learned that locals were born with these gifts, but since he’d been "planted" here, his only edge was his own grit and the Grimoire’s amplification. He decided to keep the dagger, ditching the hunk of obsidian. Having steel in his hand made him feel a little less like a target.
He also brought a new creature into the fold: a Ferratosk. It was a slimy, eel-like thing that shot quills from its mouth like armor-piercing bullets. It cost fifty mana, but the investment paid off instantly. The Ferratosk was a master fisherman, keeping Cedric fed while he stayed near the basin.
The only catch was its skin. As an amphibian, it needed constant moisture. While the floodplains were perfect, the surrounding scrublands were a death sentence. That solidified Cedric’s choice: this basin was home.
On the third day, the heat was brutal. Cedric sat by the water, his back mostly healed but still peeling. Lisa was already pushing for more training.
“I get it, Lisa, but I’ve been at this for two days. I’m sweating through my skin,” he muttered.
“I understand you are exhausted, Master, but your responsibility to the Grimoire is—”
“Don’t you dare call it responsibility!” Cedric snapped, throwing a rock through her translucent form. “My responsibility before this was passing my classes. Now? Now it’s just staying alive.”
He stood up as the Ferratosk glided through the water, dropping a small catfish at his feet.
“Ah, dinner.” He looked back at Lisa, his voice softening. “I get it. You want me safe.”
“I do worry, Master. You lost one life... I do not wish to see you lose this one.”
Cedric nodded, not needing to say a word. She could read the exhaustion and the underlying gratitude in his thoughts.
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He shared the fish and some mukka fruit with the coyotes. They were his only friends in this wasteland, and he wanted them happy. He sat on a rock, petting the female coyote’s tawny coat. Her contentment was the only thing that made him smile.
“Hey Lisa, I want to ask you something…”
Lisa didn't answer. She was staring west, her face turning pale.
“It can wait,” Cedric said, his heart skipping a beat as the coyotes bristled. “What is it?”
“Multiple life signatures,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “They’re moving together... they’re on top of each other.”
“Riders,” Cedric hissed. “Could it be those nomads?”
He didn't wait. He grabbed the Grimoire, his heart hammering against his ribs. He summoned a Giant Centipede (150 mana) and a Scythe Claw Mantis (210 mana). The air ripped open as the insectoid beasts emerged. The Mantis stood six feet tall with serrated, green-black claws. The Centipede was as long as an SUV, its mandibles dripping with burning acid.
“If I am attacked, guard me!” he roared, mentally gripping their bonds like chains.
Minutes later, the thunder of hooves arrived.
Cedric was surrounded. These weren’t hunters; they were soldiers. They wore light tunics and leopard skins over their shoulders, reminiscent of Numidian cavalry. Their bucklers and breastplates were painted with a jagged, blood-red sun.
The leader wore a bronze helm with that same Red Sun etched into the brow. He sauntered forward on a lean, powerful horse.
“Well, don’t see your kind often. Why are you here, paleskin?”
“I kind of dropped in,” Cedric said, standing tall despite the twenty javelins pointed at his throat. He had Dragon Scales prepped, his mana ready to burn.
“Well, paleskin, you are in Red Sun territory. You are not welcome here. Geld him. We can feed the scraps to the dogs.”
The leader—Rejar—smirked. Five men dismounted. One held a rope; the others drew falchions and maces.
The first nomad swung a mace at Cedric’s ribs. Cedric didn't flinch; he leaned into the hit and screamed for his power. Dragon Scales!
A sound like metal scraping on rock filled the air as the mace bounced off his hardened skin. Cedric used the momentum to drive a fist into the man's mouth. Teeth shattered against his knuckles, and as the nomad hit the dirt, the brush exploded.
The Mantis was a blur of green death. Its scythes lopped off a horse’s head with a wet schlunk, the rider screaming as he was pinned to the earth. The Centipede coiled around a pair of riders, its acid hissing through their bronze armor and into their skin.
“Die, paleskin!” a voice barked behind him.
A blade sliced across Cedric’s back. He howled as fire bloomed along his spine. He spun, his heel catching the man in the groin with enough force to lift him off the ground. Cedric turned and drove his forehead into the next fighter’s face. A sickening crunch signaled the end of the man’s nose.
The fight was a symphony of chaos and gore. Cedric felt the power coursing through him, but it wasn't enough.
A crack of thunder shook the sky. A bolt of lightning from a staff-wielding nomad fried the Centipede instantly, turning its insides to ash. The man himself was already readying another spell, his voice rising in a jagged chant that cut through the wind. Cedric could feel the static charging the air, a precursor to the next strike that promised to be even more lethal.
“DUCK!” Lisa screamed in his mind.
A javelin whistled past his ear. Cedric rolled, his scaled skin scraping against the dirt as a horse tried to trample him. Another javelin slammed into the Mantis’s thorax before a ball of lightning finished the beast off.
Cedric’s heart shattered as he saw his pack move. The coyotes lunged out, desperately trying to protect their master. The mage turned his staff.
“Fuck’s sake… no!” Cedric yelled.
A ball of lightning blasted into Cedric’s chest. The scales held, but the force sent him flying back against a tree, the air leaving his lungs in a ragged gasp. He tried to stand, but his nerves were screaming.
“Lightning Burst!”
The second arc hit him dead center. Cedric’s world dissolved into white-hot agony. Through a red haze, he watched the female coyote and the Ferratosk lunge for the mage. They didn't even stand a chance. A volley of javelins pinned the coyote to the earth, her whimpering cry echoing in Cedric's head. The Ferratosk was turned to ash a second later.
The grief was sharper than the lightning. They were the only things that had made him feel human in this hellhole, and he’d led them to their deaths.
“My coyotes… my pack…” was his last thought before the darkness swallowed him.
“How many dead?” Rejar spat, looking over the scorched earth.
“Ten dead out of twenty-four, sir,” a younger officer replied. “This tamer’s beasts were strong.”
“Shackle the paleskin!” Rejar ordered.
Laema, the man with the broken nose, wiped blood from his face. “We should kill the freak now, Rejar.”
Rejar’s gaze was freezing. “You dare question me? A tamer who can summon such filth is worth a fortune to the Sultanate pits. He is skilled.” He leaned in closer. “Disobey me again, and I’ll have you gelded instead. Now, chain him.”
Cedric was collared and shackled, the metal biting into his raw skin. As the heavy slave collar snapped shut, it glowed with a dominate enchantment. In the grass nearby, the Grimoire flashed a dull, defiant gold.
[Hostile Enchantment Detected…]
[Enchantment Nullified.]
Lisa watched as a nomad tried to pick up the book, only to get zapped by her static field.
“The book, sir! It bit me!”
“Wrap it in a sash and tie it to the prisoner,” Rejar sighed. “If he’s our slave, the book is ours too.”
They strapped Cedric’s unconscious body to a horse. As they rode toward the nomad camp, Lisa hovered over him, her eyes fixed on the horizon. Cedric was in chains, but the Nomads had no idea what they’d just invited into their camp.
[Battlefield Analysis]
[Nomads Slain: 10]
[War-Steeds Slain: 8]
[Mana Gained: 243 (added to storage)]
[Mana Storage: 333]