Headed by a Snake



The dress uniform of a Royal Marine Officer was one Tycondrius was proud to wear. 

The dark coat was trimmed with red. The blue trousers had a similar red stripe running along the sides. His belt was a pristine white, held by a shining, gold-plated buckle. And finally, a set of achievement ribbons were pinned to his breast, held securely in place by a minor enchantment. 

Though despite his handsome appearance, a 'dress uniform' seemed somewhat out of place, considering the coming tribulations. 

City-State Whitehearth was to be sieged by the armies of the Tyrant God, a mass of winged beasts, accompanied by an unknown amount of their assumedly flightless servants. 

Military-grade armor seemed appropriate-- some sort of defense apposite to sword and bolt. 

A shield would be nice. 

However, there wasn't much available offering protection against one or more concentrated blasts of lizard-fire. 

Thus, Tycon decided to wear whatever he wished. 

And a suitable last wish... was to look professional. 

He had a light meal to sate his hunger. 

He listened to Rico talk about her last outing in Jad, accompanying her boyfriend. 

And after entertaining the child for about half-a-bell, it was appropriate time for him to seek out Langhai. 

Tycon climbed the faulty stairs (avoiding the troublesome spots, according to memory.) And as he walked onto the deck, he donned his saucer-shaped Officer's Cap, white with a black rim. 

Upon meeting with Langhai, the boyish High-Captain dared to inspect his uniform for errors. 

--as if Tycon would be so careless. 

After everything was seen to be in order, Hai explained the situation. 

The coast near Port Town Jad was best defended area in the whole of the Eastern States. 

The three most powerful Sea Witches in the Realm made up a triangle formation designed both to detect seafaring enemies and stifle the enemy's ability to detect their allies. 

Lieutenant Eiliean of the Sea Wolf Fleet. 

Priestess Atlantea, formerly of the Amphitrite Reef Tribe. 

Lieutenant Mina-- relationship to the Sea God, unclear, but they were quite close. 

Unfortunately for Tycon, a majority of the fighting was prophesied to take place in City-State Whitehearth, some distance inland. 

The city wasn't particularly significant in strategic value-- not for its resources nor its location. 

It wasn't the most populous City-State-- that was Archangel. It wasn't the most technologically advanced-- that was Making. It didn't have the strongest military force-- that title was contested between Forcen and Black Opal Valley. 

However, due to its central location, Whitehearth was the easiest City-State to reinforce. 

Perhaps that was the reason it was targeted... 

With the Tyrant God's decree, the mortals that strove to protect the Realm would gather. They would stand together (within reason) against the tyranny of an overpowerful deity. 

And there, they would burn... until naught was left but ash and fire. 

Even if, against all odds, the Tyrant God's forces would be repelled... it was likely that the casualties inflicted would cripple the resistance, preventing any further, meaningful rebellion. 

Tycon was fairly certain he would die in Whitehearth. 

And soon after, his allies would join him in the afterlife as the Tyrant God attacked the cities and territories they hailed from. 

Rico had no clue. Though, even if she did, Tycon doubted it would affect her sunny disposition. 

Langhai? He might have known. Besides being a Royal Marine Officer, he was also the Leader of the Sea Wolf Sect. He would know what the other Hidden Sects knew. 

The reason that Tycon was privy to to such information was someone he was very close to.

She was an Oracle... a very rare Class. 

--and Tycon sorely felt that person's absence. 

However, they were Off-Realm, along with the Hero. 

They were safe. 

...or were they? 

Tycon furrowed his brows, recalling the tail-end of his conversation with Iyuri. 

She said... that her bloodline compelled her to stay and fight against the Tyrant God. 

The same was true for him-- though it wasn't something he chose to consciously acknowledge. 

But for the child he sent Off-Realm... he wondered which was stronger: a bloodline compulsion or their father's sincere plea? 

A pair of loud splashes from off-deck interrupted his thoughts. 

Two old friends boarded the ship, the first of which possessing a boisterous voice that threatened to wake whatever hid beneath the misty black waters. 

"Mornin' ladies and gents! Permission to come aboard?!"

"You've already boarded, Lieutenant Ran," Captain Hai growled. "The green-haired nerd didn't even ask."

Ah. That was unprofessional of him. Tycon made a mental note to apologize later. 

Tycon and Hai shook hands with the two Lieutenants, Shao Ran and Eleven-of-Seven. 

Ran was a gold-haired human Martialist formerly belonging to the Golden Crow Hidden Sect. The other was a sentient rock in metal armor. 

Both, Tycon trusted with his life on the battlefield. 

Neither, however, would he trust with the safety of a delicate item or vulnerable loved one. 

Ran went on to gossip about the Hidden Sects, notably Tycon's work with the matriarch of the Frozen Cairn sect. It was interesting to hear about that world. 

The Hidden Sects had their own speakers and prophecies. Tycon wondered if he'd see some of their people in the coming battle. 

Eleven-of-Seven thanked Tycon for taking care of his children. 

The six-fulm tall coral sentients were had taken up the mantle of Royal Marine, like their father. They served under the command of the Sea God, Captain Krysaos. 

Apparently, their four-fulm tall sire had met with them and found them worthy. 

However, the presence of Ran and Eleven-of-Seven begged a certain question. 

"Captain Hai," Tycon said... "What of the Marines and Sailors patrolling the Kingdom's coast?"

"F*ck if I know, guy," Hai said with a shrug. "Chantal gave the order. Over half the fleet's here-- including most of our guys." 

What? 

Tycon furrowed his brows. He had informed his allies of the draconic threat a few moons prior, Chantal included. However, he but fully expected the various nations to keep reserve forces within their respective borders. 

But with the scale of naval forces mobilized, Tycon surmised that the Kingdom was fully aware of the threat the Tyrant God posed to their Realm. 

...or perhaps they had their own Oracles? 

It shouldn't have been a surprise... but he felt slightly sore that his Oracle's insider information wasn't as unique to him as he first thought. 

ραndαsnοvεl.cοm "Why'd ya ask?" Hai asked, suddenly suspicious, "There something going down we should know about?"

Tycon thought back to the lizard he encountered a few bells prior. 

"It's related... to the creatures in the depths. I wonder if you've encountered any."

"Meh," Hai shrugged, "There's some weird shite down there. What we've been seein' as of late ain't that much worse than usual."

Tycon tilted his head... "You're not concerned?"

Most people in the Realm would have been... at least *moderately* concerned upon encountering something reminiscent of a mythical 'dragon.'

Hai pursed his lips, "I follow my orders. I get paid twice a moon."

"...Very well," Tycon nodded quietly to himself.

For a moment, he wondered if the Sea Wolf Captain was merely putting up a confident facade.

While it was certainly reasonable for the young gentleman's character... Tycon came to the conclusion that Hai simply didn't care. 

High-Captain Langhai was certainly a leader of men... but Fleet Admiral Chantal was directing the Marines as an entire force. 

Hai only had to worry about the enemies he encountered-- killing them with great prejudice while perhaps keeping his own Marines safe. 

No matter how powerful the enemy was, his situation remained unchanged. 

Emerge victorious or die. 

While it was a grim outlook, it was so woefully simple, Tycon found it rather heartening. 

Suddenly, Hai let out a... chuckle with an ugly snort. 

"You keep making that face, LT, you're gonna turn into a Sea Scrag."

"This is how I look," Tycon replied, "And I turn into other snakes, not... whatever a Scrag is."

"Don't think about shite too hard, guy," Hai grinned. 

He tossed his hand aside, "Whatever comes our way, our Sea Wolves will crunch their bones to dust and gobble the rest down!"

"Do *not* do that," Tycon scowled. "Lizard-flesh is difficult to prepare for safe consumption. Doing so devoid of that preparation carries certain... risks."

"Eh?" Hai scratched at his head, "I-- I ain't scared o' no *risks.* But uh... just outta curiosity's sake... what uh... kinda risks'r 'we talkin' about?"

"Debilitating sickness," Tycon crossed his arms. "Disease, particularly mana-destructive-- with its lethality correlating to the carrier's Metal-Rank."

Lieutenant Shao Ran placed a hand on his abdomen, "I... think I'll be okay. My Golden Crow Body Art--"

Recently-promoted Lieutenant Eleven-of-Seven hopped up, grabbing onto the back of Ran's neck. Then he stuck one of his three fingers deep into the young man's mouth. 

"Comply," the metal-man demanded. 

Ran immediately vomited the contents of his stomach onto the deck. 

"Lieutenant Ran!" Hai shouted, "Vomit OFF the f*cking ship! The railing's RIGHT f*cking there!"

Was it? Considering the state of the Elizabeth Dare's railing, it was easier to pretend a proper railing didn't exist. 

But that was unimportant. 

Tycon knelt down, scrutinizing Ran's most recent meal. As he feared, he found evidence of lizardflesh present in the vomitus, barely chewed. 

"How many members of the crew?" he asked aloud. 

"F*ckin' all of 'em," Hai said in a grim voice. 

"How long ago?"

Eleven-of-Seven banged his metal fists together, "We must act immediately."

"O-orders, Cap'n?" Shao Ran said before spitting off the side of the ship. 

"Why the f*ck are you all still here?" Hai groaned, "F*cking GO!"

It was... very likely the stupidest mission Tycon had ever accepted. 

Ran and Eleven dove off the side of the Elizabeth Dare, assumedly to return to their own respective ships. 

Hai descended the stairs toward the hold and sleeping quarters.

And thus, Tycon was tacitly tasked with dealing with the Marines on the deck. 

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