Headed by a Snake

Chapter 450 Sudden But Inevitable

?Bannok informed Tycondrius of the Brazen Guard's next actions. Once all the guilds in the collective would gather, they would share information, and then return to Dungeon delving for a few more bells-- on the current floor and higher. The lower, more dangerous floors would be explored on the following sun.

Tycon nodded. The plan was sound. However, the absence of the Stormbrands and his Bravo still bothered him.

"Brother Bannok... have you heard anything from Guild Stormbrand?"

"Ugh," The Weaponmaster rolled his eyes. "What is it? If it's another sexual harassment thing, I oughta--"

Tycon raised a hand to interrupt the gentleman, "--not quite. Earlier, I had sent one of my scouts to follow them."

Bannok narrowed his gaze, his mouth twisted in disgust... "You suspect those cocksuckers of foul play?"

"...Something like that," Tycon shrugged. At the time, he deemed sending Raphael to track them as a low-risk endeavor, expecting little or nothing to gain.

"Shouldn't bother," Bannok crossed his arms, "That lot's just a bunch of idiots."

"Fools can be unpredictable," Tycon warned.

Bannok paused... sinking deep into thought... "Eh... can't argue with that."

Tycon grimaced, feeling the vibrations in the ground before any of his human allies could sense it.

"Brother-Bannok, brace yourself."

"What the hells do you mean--"

A loud explosion shook the stone floors that nearly took Bannok off his feet, soon followed by the raucous crumbling of heavy stones.

"By the FLAME, what in the seven gods-damned hells was that?!" Bannok roared.

The Weaponmaster dashed off, with Tycon following close behind... and they were joined by dozens of adventurers, clamoring to see the source of the noise.

The bridge had been destroyed... and through the cloud of dust, standing on the opposite side were the members of Guild Stormbrand.

"OCCAMMM!!!!" Bannok's voice boomed, shaking the bridge and finishing off the feeble stones desperately trying to remain intact, "What the HELLS do you think you're doing?!"

The raven-haired Stormbrand Cleric held out his fists forward, revealing two obscene gestures, "F*CK YOU, BANNOK!!!"

Tycon wondered how the Stormbrands managed to cross the bridge without him or Bannok noticing. He spied a weapon he had not yet encountered... one wielded by Tancred Mors.

The Reaver carried a second greataxe... its haft made from bones. It looked suspiciously similar to the spine of a large snake.

« System, analysis: Tancred's axe. »

? Snake Spine Greataxe. Third-Circle Magical Greataxe. Warning: The weapon is inhabited by the Sandstone Reaver, the Oathbreaker. The weapon spirit may possess the user. Soulbound to Tancred Mors. ?

Empty night.

"I know that weapon," Bannok growled. "HERETICS!!! You don't know who or WHAT you're f*cking with!!!"

"FFFFF*CK!! YOU!! GUYS!!! Ha har harr!!" Occam replied with the most eloquent words in his minuscule vocabulary, "Phew. Always wanted to say that."

"We're leaving," Tancred ordered.

"WAIT!!!" A voice called out.

Tycon and the rest of the Brazen Guard collective turned to see... Pyromancer Photios approach the edge of the broken bridge, his palm raised out towards the Stormbrands.

"Ignus Cantor..." Zenon looked to his friend, doubt clouding his expression... "What're you doing, man?"

The slouching Pyromancer shrugged in response, grinning without shame, "You're a frog at the bottom of the well, Librarian. You're trash, just like I am. But I... I have a way out."

Before anyone else could react, Photios' body was fading into dark smoke, "?Riftwalk.?"

The mage spell utilized crossing into the Void, effectively emulating short-distance teleportation. Such a spell was not uncommon amongst Warlocks and dark casters from other nations... but was considered heretical by denizens of the Holy Country.

Photios reappeared in the midst of the Stormbrands, "Take me with you! I'm good for it-- you know I am."

"Hah! Hahaha! Hahahaharr harr!!" Occam cackled madly before pausing to catch his breath...

" N o . "

The raven-haired Cleric planted a solid boot into Photios' chest. Screaming for his life, the Silver Pyromancer plummeted down to the depths below.

Simultaneously, a teeth-tingling zap forced Tycon to briefly wince... an effect that drew similar reactions from Zenon and Athena, nearby. A thin, nigh-transparent magical barrier had formed between the ends of the bridge that would block the approach of any of the Brazen Guard's flight abilities.

Zenon appeared ready to leap over, assisted by his wind magic. In a similar vein, Tanamar summoned his wings of light, seeking to do the same.

Tycon held out a hand to stop them, "Hold."

With hand-crossbow in hand, he knelt down at the edge of the precipice... and delivered an accurate poisoned bolt to Photios' chest, ilms away from his heart.

Everyone else seemed too preoccupied by the Stormbrands' betrayal to ensure the mage's death. Tycon liked being thorough.

"Optio, why?!" Zenon growled.

"Concerning the bolt or the chase?"

The Centurion was furious, "The Stormbrands! They're getting away!!!"

Tycon shook his head, "Take a second look. There's a Fourth-Circle barrier in the way. We must find another way to exit this place."

Once more, the cavernous walls began to shake and tremble. Both the mundane torches and the light enchantments of the Brazen Guard dimmed as a wave of dark magic washed over them.

"MUHUHAHAHAHA!!!!!" An eerie voice echoed off of the walls, "As if I... the MASSSTER of these HALLSSS... would allow the enemiessss of the SSSSSSNAKE CULT to essscape!!!"

In a lackluster puff of noxious smoke, a dark-robed caster appeared behind the collective. Shirtless, scrawny, and slightly translucent, the male mage wore a tall helmet in the likeness... of a hooded cobra.

Tycon shook his head, sighing in annoyance even as the humans around him began to panic.

In the span of a few moments, additional bursts of smoke summoned more ghostly Snake Cult warriors, savages wearing piecemeal sets of armor, wielding shoddy spears and looted blades. Dozens of Iron-Rank Shadow Snakes, too, slithered out of cracks in the floors and walls... not that Tycon was particularly wary of them.

The Brazen Guard was surrounded by enemies.

Such was a battlefield that Tycon's Warlord class thrived.

Tycon drew the Sword of Venom out of its scabbard and raised it skyward, "Friends and allies of the Brazen Guard, rally around--"

"DIE, HERETIC SCUM!!!" Weaponmaster Bannok dropped his shield, both hands on his battleaxe as he charged recklessly into the crowd of Snake Cult apparitions. "PURGE!!!! CLEANSE!!!! KILLLLLLLLL!!!!!"

Tycon pointed his sword forward, "I am of the same mind."