Headed by a Snake



Before Tycondrius debarked the Elizabeth Dare, Langhai suggested he pay the Fleet Admiral a visit. 

Those two had a colorful history. They knew each other from a young age, as their fathers were close. 

Then, Langhai's adoptive father was accused of murdering Fleet Admiral Guillame De la Croix. 

It was a false accusation, the result of a relatively simple political plot. 

Despite that, Tycon believed their compatibility to be good. 

But it seemed the fates had different plans for the strongest Sea Wolf, considering his loyalty to Corporal Rico. 

Anyroad... 

Tycon felt obligated to see Chantal, with or without Hai's urging. 

Though his current billet was Commander, he was still technically a reserve officer serving under her Royal Navy. 

As he swam towards the flagship, he sensed the gaze of something immense watching him from deep below. 

--immense and... sentient. 

It was unnerving... but Tycon kept his bearing. 

There were rumors attached to Chantal De la Croix, ultimately amounting to the fact that she was 'protected.' 

Logically, Tycon could consider her protector (or protect-ors) as tentative allies. 

If the truth was otherwise, he would die quickly enough. 

...That particular notion had occurred with alarming regularity, over the past few suns. 

Tycon reverted back into his human form and scaled the side of the juggernaut-class ship, the Kida Thatch. Then, he pulled himself up to stand just outside of the intact wooden railing. 

He adjusted his officer's cap, stood up straight, and rendered a salute. 

"Marine Lieutenant Tycon, requesting permission to board!"

The magenta-haired Chantal De la Croix stood five paces away, crossing her arms and lazily wearing her coat as if were a makeshift cape. 

Tycon was tempted to correct her. However, that was inappropriate, considering their respective statuses-- and that a dozen and one of her sailors flanked her, standing at the ready with swords and pistols drawn. 

"So the Commander of the Wyrmslayer Alliance has decided to deign his superior officer with his presence," Chantal said with a grin. "Permission granted, Dragonslayer."

⟬ Chantal De la Croix, Iron-Rank Human Beast Contractor. ⟭ 

Tycon vaulted the rails, approaching the Kingdom's Fleet Admiral as she dismissed her subordinates. 

"Good morning, Grand-Capitaine," he said. "Wyrmslayer Alliance, you say?"

"Your old name was stupid," Chantal waved-- "and good morning."

Was it? He liked the 'Anti-Lizard Offensive' as it was succinct and accurate. Wyrms and dragons didn't exist-- not besides the one he was aiming to slay, anyroad. 

Nonetheless, the coalition would function well-enough, regardless of its name. 

"Grand Capitaine," Tycon said. "A majority of our fleet had lain anchor in foreign waters. Might I inquire if this was by your command?"

"Oui," she answered in the Kingdom's old tongue, "(Do you have a problem with my orders, Mister Lieutenant?)"

"Not at all," Tycon replied. "It was a decision, most astute. However, I did wonder... was the heart of Grand Capitaine Chantal De la Croix always so easy to move?"

"Ah, (I understand your concerns,)" Chantal nodded. "Zhe Alliance has moved upon the advisory of a certain, illustrious personage. I was told you were... familiar with her."

"A-admiral De la Croix!" shouted a female voice, pitched high in panic. 

Tycon turned to watch a young Tyrion acolyte running toward them. Her short, childish pigtails bobbed up and down as she ran. 

And, as he expected, the young lady lost her footing on the slippery deck, kissed by the morning mist. 

In a smooth and unhurried motion, Chantal caught the young lady before she incurred injury. 

"Be careful, (my little cabbage,)" she cooed, "or you'll fall."

"I... I think it's too late, Ma'am."

Tycon rolled his eyes. That was obvious. 

--or was it? 

Was there a hidden meaning he was missing? He often had difficulty understanding conversations doused with subtlety. 

The young lady's name was Croesa,[1] a low-level administrator he had met briefly in the Holy Country's capital. 

It was odd to see her aboard the Kingdom's flagship-- but considering her great agitation, extraneous inquiry would have to wait. 

The Fleet Admiral stood the scarlet-faced young lady up.

"Please, Mademoiselle," she waved, "report."

"Th-there's an attack headed this way!" Croesa yelped. 

"Calm yourself, Miss Croesa," Tycon said in a soft, non-threatening v--

"AiiiieeEEEeee!!!" 

Tycon crossed his arms. The child's sheer terror at the sight of him should have been annoying considering the circumstances. However, as a predator, he found it somewhat satisfying.

It was a shame, though, that it was socially frowned upon to show pride in the fact. 

Chantal put herself between him and the screeching brat. 

"Breathe, ma petite," she said. "Tell us what you know."

Croesa nodded shyly, "a-- a strike force has broken through the western blockade. They're ignoring the other ships and are heading straight for us!"

As a wave of panic washed through the sailors on deck, Tycon crossed his arms in thought. 

Was there a flaw in the Three-Point Concealment Formation? No... he sensed it was still functioning. 

--"What? How is that possible!?"

--"Shite shite shite! We're doomed!"

--"The Sea God has turned his back on us!"

--"I knew we couldn't trust that bastard's gods-damned smile!"

Chantal fired a pistol in the air, instantly silencing her sailors' panicked mewling. 

"Sacred GODS!" she roared, "Stay calm, you idiots! Thanks to Lieutenant Mina, ze enemy cannot pierce ze veil with zheir dragonne magics! 'Owever, zhey can use their EYES to see ze biggest F*CKING ship in ze BAY!!"

Tycon had come to the same conclusion. 

Mina's formation remained intact, stifling the enemy's Divination spells. 

And as long as the Sea Wolves patrolled the bay, the enemy 

However, it was impossible to hide the fact that Chantal's ship was... worthy of note. 

But to strike so deep into enemy waters... the targeted attack was a suicide mission-- and, even then, its strategic value was trifling. 

Chantal had already given her orders. Morale issues aside, if she were injured or killed, her subordinates would take command. Tycon doubted anyone would even notice, as each High-Captain was a veteran officer, versed in commanding multiple fleets. 

Likely, the enemy was hoping that the Kida Thatch held one of the corner formations that protected the naval forces of the Wyrmslayer Alliance. 

They were incorrect... but that did not change the circumstances. 

The dogs of the Tyrant God were quickly approaching. 

"To arms, Darktide!" Chantal yelled. 

She turned to Tycon, "And you, Lieutenant, make yourself useful."

"I really must be going, Ma'am," Tycon said politely. "I should be expected at--"

Out of reflex, he caught something Chantal threw to him.

--or rather, threw *at* him. 

It was her sword. 

That was both her answer and ultimatum. 

"(A little puppy,) she said... (he once told me...) You serve ze Kingdom. As a Marine,[2] you are sworn to duty and bound by honor."

She gnashed her teeth. 

Chantal's pride was hurt. And she was furious. 

"He told me... that if ze enemies of the Kingdom dared to touch a single hair on my head... he'd charge in the deepest depths of the Abyss to rescue me."

Tycon narrowed his eyes. 

He was dubious as to whether or not Chantal actually needed his help. However, considering that the enemy was approaching underwater, her senses were superior to his. 

And considering that a self-sufficient woman such as herself felt it necessary to enlist his aid... 

--he would not reject her earnest request. 

"On the honor of the Sea Wolf fleet," Tycon said, "I obey."

"Tch," Chantal clicked her tongue. "F*cking Marines..." 

Her words did not match her expression. 

The Admiral of the Royal Navy wore a wide grin in anticipation of the coming violence. 

She took a deep breath... 

And she began to laugh. 

Wielding two pistols in either hand, she whipped her head back as she cackled to the night sky. 

"(To the first deaths of a VERY long sun!!) she shouted, "Darktide Pirates! NO QUARTER!!"

ραndαsΝοvεl ƈοm Her crew responded as one. 

"""NO QUARTER!!""" 

Pirates? She meant 'sailors.' 

Surely, she meant 'sailors'... 

"No quarter," Tycon repeated as he walked to the ship's portside. 

All across the ship, shots began to ring-- as well as the screams of terror from the throats of mortal men. 

The fighting had begun. 

A smoky haze and the sweet scent of Orcish Sugar began to fill the air, nostalgic, but ominous. 

Something grabbed hold of Tycon's leg, a webbed hand attached to a humanoid arm covered in loose scales. It had moderate strength, in both its grip and its pull, but Tycon held fast. 

He reached over the railing, pierced the fish-eyed creature's skull with a stab, then severed its arm at the wrist. 

Tycon lazily inspected his sword after. 

If it was enchanted, its level was far too low to be appropriate for Chantal's position. If he didn't amplify his attacks with mana, it would have been difficult to cut through bone. 

Nonetheless, it wasn't Tycon's weapon or his form that was particularly lacking. The servants of the Tyrant God attacking the ship were extraordinarily resilient. 

Tycon grimaced upon realizing an unsavory notion. 

If the caliber of Chantal's sword was ineffective against the invaders... then what of the equipment used by her subordinates? 

[1] Croesa: First introduced in Chater 618!

[2] You are a Marine: See Chapter 133! She remembered!

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