Headed by a Snake



⟬ The next sun, late morning... ⟭ 

It had been some time since Tycondrius last heard the mournful sobs of Stephanos, the Fierce Knight. 

The previous evening, the Gorgon had challenged him to a duel. 

He didn't want to bother with it. 

Stephanos' fighting ability relied on the strength, speed, and resilience of his unique body. Tycon's physique had developed to the cusp of Adamantine-Rank, thus was stronger, faster, and (theoretically) more resilient. 

A duel with the Gorgon had little value. There was no challenge. It would not improve his acumen as a martial fighter. It would not impress anyone he particularly cared for. Even the notion of breaking half the bones in Stephanos' body sounded banal. 

And during the bout... the likelihood was high that Tycon would suffer a bruise or... dent a perfectly good weapon. 

And afterward... then the Gorgon would surely pout or whine.

(It would be different if Tycon purposely threw the fight. But the process to do so and subsequent results would have been equally bothersome.)

So to solve his problem... Tycon promised the imbecile a duel only if he could first best Kimura Taree. 

The Gorgon, of course, lost miserably. 

His trusty scorpion tail, capable of beheading or critically impaling a regular human in a fraction of a second, was useless against Kimura's ⌈Stone Body Art⌋. 

Stephanos (the Fierce Knight) had chosen to arm himself with a pair of rope-bound wooden clubs. However, the speed of his swings were only enough to catch Kimura's after-image. 

(Granted, the wooden clubs were heavier and poorly balanced compared to a pair of battle-axes, but Tycon did not want to volunteer such information.)

Halfway through the fight, Stephanos eschewed his weapons, hoping to challenge the whelpling with brute strength. 

After all, he was an idiot. 

--a Gold-Rank Idiot. 

Tycon did see the logic, though. The Gorgon's standing height was 9-fulms tall and he was several tonze, Kimura's superior. 

In response, however, Kimura Taree revealed her ⌈Berserker⌋ transformation ability. Though, overall, Stephanos still outclassed his opponent in size and weight, the young lady was also intimately familiar with dealing with overlarge, hulking brutes. 

She lived in Vralkek with Dragan for some time, the city with the largest population of half-giants in the Realm. 

By the end of their match, Kimura had strong-armed Stephanos into surrender. 

She trounced upon his pride, embarrassing him in front of all of his friends and peers. 

Thus, Kimura Taree became the enemy of both the men and women staffing Hero's Hearth. 

As a reward, Tycon promised to make her ice cream after dinner. He had the ingredients for it. 

Besides that, morning training went smoothly. 

Troia was still somewhat lacking, considering her personal Metal-Rank. However, she ran the distance and completed the body-weight exercises assigned to her even despite still suffering symptoms of mana fatigue. 

From there, Tycon asked for a demonstration of the Hero Party's teamwork, fighting against one of Hero Ravidius' training golems. 

They performed... well enough. 

Tycon identified the vestiges of a few potential issues. Over the next few suns, he planned to isolate those perceived flaws, make them aware of it, and develop drills to instill proper behavior. 

The mind is weak. The body will remember.[1]

Anyroad, the younglings were sent to bathe and they had their morning meal together, separate from Tycon and Sasarame. 

Hm...

Prior to that, Troia expressed her desire to cook. That likely stemmed from her desire to avoid being force-fed an amount of breakfast meats any regular person could stomach. 

Tycon rejected the notion. 

Pale and Kimura rejected the notion strongly.

It made him wonder if the Holy Princess cooking a meal for herself was a cultural taboo.

If it was, that was nonsense. 

Cooking was a valuable skill for anyone, regardless of their Class and social status. 

But still-- as long as the Holy Princess was recovering, she would eat meat.

Ah. The notion made him remember that the other sun, Troia declared herself as Pale's... girlfriend? 

From what he knew, the term could not be misconstrued as anything else. 

If it was true-- and he had no reason to believe otherwise, Pale and Troia were dating exclusively and in a romantic relationship. 

As Tycon was essentially Pale's surrogate father (especially with Dragan missing and Wroe violently killed in action,) he felt obligated to confirm the details. 

Dating within one's social circle was a hazardous notion, especially for persons so young. 

He'd hate to see one or the other fail at communicating and irreparably damage their professional relationship as a result. 

Then there was the issue of contraceptive practices... 

It was a topic that might be uncomfortable for them to discuss, but it was necessary for their development into well-adjusted adults. 

Hmm...

He recalled the Kimura girl also being romantically interested in Pale-- unless he was mistaken.

How did she feel about his relationship? 

...and what of the other two members of Pale's party? 

The young man had only briefly met with Jægerin, but she seemed rather attached to him. Despite her physical appearance, she was still a young child. She would need to be instructed on commonly understood social boundaries. 

And of the recently deceased, Vanya... what was Pale's relationship with her? 

...Then, Tycon remembered Troia's parental figure. 

Natalya Crucis was the closest thing the Holy Princess had to family. Troia even referred to her as Elder Sister, despite them being unrelated by blood. 

How would she feel about the Holy Princess of Tyrion coupling with a young man with non-human blood? 

And if Tycon sought to pursue Natalya romantically-- which he was intent on doing, would that not further complicate matters? 

...As he was deliberating on the matters, he realized he was grasping the hilt of his sword. 

Social relationships were so frustratingly difficult. 

Fighting was far easier. 

--for him it was, anyroad...

"What'cha thinkin' bout, Boss?"

"Dah!" 

Tycon swung his sword at Pale's head, his form barely acceptable. 

Pale, of course, slipped the horizontal slash-- then he blocked Tycon's follow-up kick with his shin, leg outward, foot pointed up. 

Planting his standing foot, Tycon completed the movement, using his strength to push Pale away. He then spun his body to face forward. 

"Well done," he said, replacing Mercy in its sheath. 

"I've gotten pretty good at dodging," Pale said with a grin. "Remember our first few weeks of training? Mosswood,[2] right?"

"Hah," Tycon smirked. "I still have that halberd. Let's see how you fare during afternoon training."

"I dunno," Pale shrugged. "Pretty sure that thing's slower than your sword, Sir."

"We shall see," Tycon mused. "Having two hands on a hafted weapon means I can increase the speed of certain swings. You know this, Spear Hero."

Shortly after, Troia and Kimura arrived. 

The former was dressed in a breastplate and a battle skirt, her purple hair tied into a neat ponytail. She was a picturesque example of a veteran Tyrion Officer. Even more impressive was the fact that, despite her condition, she walked confidently and with purpose. 

Also, despite the lack of Tyrion military stationed in Hero's Hearth, Troia received kind greetings of 'Praise the Flame' and 'Good morning, Princess,' wherever she went. 

In juxtaposition to her, Kimura Taree wore a set of clean, ornately-designed robes in the style of her sect, yet in the bright orange colors of her family. She bounced with each step, taking in the sights of adventurer trophies and decor with bright, smiling eyes. 

For each Mage and technician she passed, she waved and greeted them with short, single words. 

Hey. Sup? Mornin'. 

And, without fail, she received an honest smile and greeting in return. 

Both children had their merits. 

Yet Tycon was glad that Pale had chosen Troia as his mate-to-be. 

Ah.

"(Hatchling,) he hissed in Parseltongue, "(you seek the Celestial as your mate, do you not?)"

"Err, what?" Pale tilted his head... then he responded in Elven, "(It is not so, Ancient. We are branches entwined, each supporting the tree. My heart belongs to the earth and the wind.)"

"Hm," Tycon nodded, "Very well."

Unfortunately, he didn't have an inkling of what the boy meant by that. 

--and his mastery of Elven was a bit weak. 

Judging by the context... 

No. Even with the context, he couldn't be certain. 

He'd ask him in private, another time. 

Tycon turned to properly address the children. 

"Miss Kimura, Miss Troia, Master Pale, thank you for being punctual," he nodded, "I'd like the three of you to accompany me to the War Room. The afternoon will be filled with analyses of current war zones and recent battles. And, if relevant, my bloodline memories will fill any gaps in knowledge we identify."

He turned to walk, his two excellent students (and one woefully average) following suit. 

"As always, questions are welcome," he said. "Some questions will be undoubtedly stupid, but I advise you to ask, anyroad, as one of your peers may have the same line of thought-- and I'm certain you're all aware, but I enjoy the sound of my own voice."

Taree raised her hand as she bounced along, "Question!"

"Wonderful," Tycon sighed. "Go ahead."

"What's for lunch?"

"Iron-pressed sandwiches," Tycon answered, "Bite-size chunks of marinated pork, along with greens and topped with a soft, melted cheese, contained in a small loaf of freshly baked wheat bread-- though the flour in the kitchens is unusually white."

He glanced to the side, "Extra pickles for you, Miss Troia. No onions for the childish palate of Miss Kimura."

Tycon sensed Pale's stare upon the back of his head. 

"And extra sauce on the side for Master Pale," he added-- "as well as a plate of freshly sliced Q'barran long peppers for those with bravery uncommon."

"I missed you so much, Boss!" Kimura cried. "S-sol Invictus, FOREVER!"

"I know! I feel the same way," Pale sniffed. "Thank you for taking care of us, Sir."

[Thank you so, so much,] Troia signed. [I'm so happy.]

"Regardless of flattery," Tycon chuckled, "I won't be going easy on you for afternoon training, dear friends."

[1] The body will remember: Tycon first said this in Chapter 158.

[2] Mosswood: Tycon, Dragan, and Wroe discussed training Pale in Chapter 27. Kimura Taree witnessed Tycon's training firsthand in Chapter 49.

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