Headed by a Snake

Chapter 974 Scion Of House Morninglord

Pelor, son of Quies.

He was a good child: patient, kind, and always willing to strive for excellence. With proper guidance, his potential was limitless.

For him, the great name of Sol Invictus was not a goal. It was a stepping stone towards something even greater.

Such was his destiny... even before High Oracle Troia selected him as this generation's Hero.

...even before his careless father left him, never to return.

The boy took his name from a heroic Elven ancestor of House Morninglord.

Pelor.

It was a ridiculous name.

Tycondrius recalled that was why he-- or Dragan or maybe even Wroe began to call him Bucket.

Though... contemplating the names, Bucket was not particularly flattering, either.

"Pale may be his father's son," Tycon frowned, "and he may be inconceivably strong for his age... but the fact remains: he is only a child."

The boy had done many great things under his command. However, no matter how many times Pale risked life and limb, there was always the failsafe of another Sol Invictus member nearby... or the significant powerhouse that was the High Oracle of the Holy Country.

Tycon had a metric to measure Pale's ability: the Realm's previous Hero, Ravidius the Lionhearted.

That man was strong enough to shoulder the fate of the entire Realm on his own.

Yet, he was not strong enough to fight the Tyrant God.

...He was, however, strong enough to leave the Realm, taking his daughter with him.

It was a selfish move, but if Tycon had similar strength and resources, he might have opted to do the same.

"Listen to me, Tyrael!!" Lettuce-hair yelped.

"I go by Tycon, now."

"On the 77th passing of the sun, I need you to go to the Bristlebear Highlands, to--"

"I. don't. care," Tycon sighed.

"--assist the Heroes of legend in their extraplanar fight."

Their *what*?

If Pale and his band of similarly-aged *children* had found trouble, Tycon would absolutely be concerned.

"...For that, I do care," He admitted-- "but only slightly-- and not because you--"

"Do we, like-- have that kind of time, though?" Bella interjected.

"We'll have the time!" The girl insisted.

Tycon turned to the lizard, still very much annoyed and upset by her presence.

"Says who?" He asked.

"Says the prophecy!!"

Tycon narrowed his eyes, steeling his expression...

"Hmm... It was foolish of me to ask such a question-- having already known your answer."

"To aid you," The girl continued, "I will elicit the assistance of my mate, Rixen. Together, you must--"

"Nope!" Tycon declared. He unstuck his sword from the wall, replacing it in its sheath. "I have lost interest, never again to be regained!!"

"Our alliance only serves to benefit your cause!"

"I refuse to work with YOU! I refuse to work with your ILK!"

"Tyrael!!" She yelled, "Listen to me!"

"Same answer! I REFUSE!!"

"BUT WHY?!"

"I have a SWORD!" Tycon said, gesturing wildly at Mercy, stowed safely on his hip, "Therefore, I shall do as I please!!"

"A-gaiNNn," Bella interrupted in a sing-song voice, "he goes by TY-con nowww~"

"Rixen has the power of the gosh-darned SUN!!" Yelled the grass-haired dolt, "Y'know! The big, dumb, fiery ball of divine power in the sky!!"

"I know what a sun is!" Tycon yelled back, "And I have on good word that it's made of superheated gas and plasma!"

"What? Really?"

"But the bottom line, girl, is: I!! Don't!! CARE!!"

"Tyrael," She cried. "I... I won't let you die... not again. You. are. my. friend. and that fact will NEVER change! Even... if you've been reincarnated... even if you don't remember our names or our mana-signatures... you'll still remember..."

Tycon sneered in disgust, "Useless drivel... I need not listen to--"

"PLEASE!!" The girl screamed... desperation clear in her voice, "I'm begging you! Listen to me! You'll need Rixen's help!!"

"Whoever that... that creature is--" Tycon seethed.

"The freakin' sun god!" She insisted, "We've been over this!"

"Gas and plasma god," Bella quietly corrected.

"What-EVER they are--" Tycon seethed, "I do NOT need their help! Heed my words, Jerim Jya: I will do what I need to do on my own terms! With MORTAL hands! With mortal weapons and MORTAL PREJUDICE!!!"

Finally, the sickly-leaf-haired wench shut her mouth-- and kept it shut.

That was a good sign. Tycon took it to mean she finally understood his logic.

It also meant she was coming to terms with her inevitable and swiftly approaching demise.

"I... see..." The girl said in resignation... "Y'know... I never-- I..."

"Still going, then?" Tycon groaned, "Finish quickly, so I can slit your throat."

Slit her throat? Would that be too easy?

He considered driving Mercy into one of her eyes and through the back end of her skull.

Would that convey a contrary message, driving his sword through her double-pupil eye? It seemed cruel to stab the other.

"I never got the chance to apologize..."

...Tycon narrowed his eyes. He did not like the way the woman's tone had shifted.

"You've *already* apologized-- which I refuse to accept, by the way."

"Pro'lly should've thanked you more, too. I could always rely on you... and I still do."

"Well, stop that," Tycon growled. "I need no thanks, nor do I care to be tha-- and WHY?? in the seven hells?? are you SMILING????"

The green-haired girl fixed her standing posture... before tilting her head and baring her teeth unabashedly.

She was not being... aggressive? She was being soft.

"I never told you my name."

Tycon raised an eyebrow, "I've a number in mind, none of them flattering. Your point being?"

Slowly, the girl covered her eyes with her hands. Was she hiding her tears?

Those tears... he sensed they were different than the ones she cried earlier.

? "But... You... you remembered," She said.

"What?" Tycon scoffed as he rolled his eyes, "Tss. I absolutely did n--"

"?Solar Flare.?"

Just when he'd dropped his guard, the child had completed a series of one-hand gestures, activating a magical explosion of light from her eyes.

The searing pain was enough to halt any attempt at stopping her from leaping out a nearby window.

Along with the shattering of glass came a final, mana-empowered warning: "77 suns, Tyrael!!"

"Stop her!" Tycon shouted-- on reflex.

It was an unreasonable request; none of the Stonelords were strong or fast enough to stop her.

...After pulsing his mana through the immediate area, he found his command to be even more futile than he thought.

All nearby patrolling stone-persons were frozen mid-air by Jerim Jya's Domain magic.

Tycon sighed as he plopped down on his seat, "Did she escape?"

"Did who escape? Bella teased.

Tycon shut his eyes, holding his face in his hands. He was so annoyed by recent events that he was feeling physically ill.

"...Jerim Jya," He muttered.

"She only jumped out of a window," Bella shrugged. "With her physique, she's probably halfway across Whitehearth, well out of range of Wroe's magic... or what's left of it."

"If... her magic were disrupted, it's... possible she might have injured herself from the fall?" Tycon suggested.

"We're on the ground floor, though?"

They were? Of course, they were. But why were the Stonelords flying about instead of walking?

Tycon lifted his body up, out of his chair.

Fatigue had set in. It was especially tiresome, as the adrenaline was quickly draining out of his body.

...Though he did have the decency to pick Natalya off the floor and place her on a nearby bench.

"Not taking her with you, Tyrael?" A certain Witch teased.

"Bella."

"Ehe. Sorry, Boss. Couldn't resist. You go by Tycon, now."

"Thank you."

"You're leaving, though?"

"Yes," Tycon sighed.

He walked over to the snack cart the maids provided and began sucking things into his spatial ring. He hoped consuming them later would improve his mood.

"Lady Sapphira," He said. "I'm assuming you can handle dispelling whatever cursed lizard magic remains in the air."

"Of course... but you seem to be implying that the new-you can do it just as well," Bella giggled. "Maybe, like... I should step down from my position? Field duty seems like it's way more interesting. Just like old times?"

It was an absurd notion. Bella was responsible for an entire tower of Witches. That was on an entirely different scale than the few hatchlings Tycon cared for-- and kept allowing to die.

Tycon stretched his arms to the sky as he headed for the door, "Operations start in two moons. Inform the others."

Bella slid off the table, spinning ostentatiously with a touch of Float-type magic.

"60 suns and not 77? Alright. And who will be our Commander? I think 'Sleeping Beauty' on that bench wanted the job."

"Really, Bella?" Tycon chuckled. "Have everyone move on their own. But when I give my orders... they *will* be followed."

"Fufufu..." Bella giggled before saluting with her fist to her chest, "I, Bella Sapphira, the Sapphire Witch, hear and obey. Sol Invictus, praise to thy name."

"Honor and glory," Tycon waved as he left the room, "In this life and the next."

"Faith and loyalty... in our lives before... and forever after."

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