Headed by a Snake



"⌈Ruptis LUCIS!!⌋"

A certain woman's voice alerted Tycondrius to a magical attack. 

A waist-high ring of golden light began to expand at a rapid pace from elsewhere on the ship. 

Despite his absolute trust in the owner of that voice, he ducked and rolled to avoid it-- just in case. 

It passed through the wood of the ship mast without resistance. 

However, against the living, breathing minions of the lizard god: each struck was brought to their knees, clutching their midsections in pain. 

Not bad. 

Getting back to his feet, Tycon turned to the Spellcaster, having recently emerged from the lower decks. 

Natalya Crucis stood tall, channeling another Spell through her enchanted staff. 

Tycon wondered if perhaps she was the one to influence the Fleet Admiral's orders. The lesser Oracles under the command of the Holy Country's Archbishop had a certain reputation, after all. 

Natalya was dressed in a set of enchanted battle regalia, mostly in red. It was her favorite color-- and matched her scarlet hair, beautifully spilling upon the gold trim of her collar. 

And, of course, her attire was topped with a tall, domineering hat. Such was customary for high-ranking personages from the Holy Country. 

⟬ Natalya Crucis, Gold-Rank Human Hallowed Summoner. ⟭

She was perfect.

--that is, she was the perfect recipient for Tycon's various support abilities. 

Tycon grabbed hold of a webfoot attacker's spear, drove its point through the side of another, then hacked his sword into the neck of the first. 

As that one fell to its knees, Tycon stepped up onto its shoulder, leaping forward as he activated his ⌈Tumble⌋ Movement Technique. 

Sharpening his senses and magically boosting his reflexes, he was able to, then, kick off one of the masts, swing off a displaced rigging rope, and land on a webfooted enemy while stabbing his sword between its neck and shoulder. 

He looked very dashing-- and it took a great deal of effort and a small bit of luck to do so in front of Natalya. And he was fairly certain his efforts would be appreciated.

"Is that all?" she asked.

--or not. 

She didn't even look at him. 

...but as she was currently focusing on another devastating area-effect Spell, he decided not to mind it. 

Tycon pumped his arm down, circulating his mana, instilling within it his oppressive will. 

"⌈Hydra.⌋"

And with a sweep of his hand, he summoned a shadowy snake, its head as large as any of the enemy webfoots stood tall. It swirled about him and the Archbishop, passing through a half-dozen enemies, greedily swallowing up their corrupted essence. 

They fell as one, drained of their life force-- their bodies dessicated into dry, lifeless husks. 

The scarlet-haired woman turned her head away, "What took you so long, Snake?" 

An immaculate professional, Natalya had no issues criticizing him while maintaining her Channeled Spell. 

It was quite the feat, considering its complexity. (And it was no less impressive than his show of physical agility-- which was *very* impressive.) 

Tycon glanced to the side, meeting the eyes of a slyly approaching webfoot. The fellow likely believed he was being clever. 

⟬ ⌈Vexing Gaze⌋ conditions met. Activate? Y/N? ⟭

« Please. Death to the enemies of Invictus. »

⟬ Activating. Death to the enemies of Invictus. ⟭

The fellow immediately ceased his steps-- which was understandable. 

He dropped his spear. 

Poor form. Verrrry poor form. 

He clutched at his throat as he began to choke. 

Blood began to spill from his mouth and eyes... and from what Tycon assumed were gills on his neck. 

The webfoot fell to the deck, their body and limbs twitching and writhing in pain. 

ραndαsnοvεl.cοm Tycon stepped past her and kicked the body away. 

"Good morning, Natalya," he said with a smile. "I say, you look absolutely lovely."

"Shut up~" Natalya replied, shutting her eyes and frowning deeply. "If you break my concentration, I will *murder* you."

Interesting. She failed to mention crucifixion, her favorite threat. 

"Would you prefer if I *hadn't* arrived?" Tycon teased.

"If you didn't show up, I'd have murdered you even worse."

Hah. 

It was mentally taxing to cast such a lengthy and complex spell in the middle of a combat zone. 

That she could do so was impressive-- and to do so while holding a basic conversation was a feat possible for only a handful of people in the Realm. 

Granted, Natalya's responses lacked a certain level of wit he was accustomed to. 

But that was forgivable. 

Tycon was *tempted* to tease her more. 

However, the *proper* thing for a gentleman to do... was to avoid taking advantage of his lovely companion's precarious state. 

(Anyroad, he was satisfied having said as much.)

He waved his hand once more, silently activating his ⌈Hydra⌋ Skill and calling forth another shadowy serpent head. Though it was far more taxing on his mana reserves than using his Nemayan pistol, the level of attack was far more reliable for disabling the oncoming enemies. 

As Natalya continued to channel, the Spell Circles glowing on the deck began to split and branch: with script longer and more complex and with layers thrice as deep. 

Natalya had minimized her awareness and completely dropped her defenses. And besides being vulnerable to attack, she would suffer lethal or near-lethal mana-feedback if her channeling was interrupted. 

Tycon began to activate and control his ⌈Hydra⌋ Skill with both hands, increasing the rate of his murdering to match the enemy's invigorated and more desperate response. 

They knew that the effect of Natalya's channeled Spell had the potential to turn the tide of battle. 

However... 

Over 100 seconds passed, the Spell not yet complete. 

Tycon furrowed his brows. 

There were two people in the Realm that Natalya trusted. 

One was the High Oracle-- currently Off-Realm with the Hero. 

And the other... was himself.

Tycon drew his pistol, firing at the enemy while continuing to direct the five shadow hydras with his left hand. 

She knew he was there. 

She knew he would defend him. 

A short distance away, Chantal's position was dangerously close to being overrun. 

--yet Natalya must have known that he would choose her over his Fleet Admiral. 

He hadn't seen the woman in over two moons. And prior to that, their relationship was uncertain. 

His lips cracked into a twisted grin. 

Her words were harsh, but her actions conveyed a sincere level of trust. 

He had been a fool to disappoint her in the past. 

"Natalya, I'll never let you go again."

"I. told. you. to... SHUT! THE F*CK!! UP!!!!!!"

She slammed the base of her staff into the deck so hard, it cracked the wooden floorboards. 

"⌈Ruptis F*CKING LUCIS!!!!!⌋"

Eh?

A massive ring of gold enveloped Natalya-- shooting outward nigh instantaneously. 

The Spell was too fast for anyone on deck to dodge... but it harmlessly washed over the sailors of the Kida Thatch, while dropping the Tyrant God's minions where they stood. 

They struggled to move-- or rolled their heavy bodies on the deck, loosing feral screams. 

Tycon observed the effects of the Natalya's Spell on the closest (non-dried) webfoot-- and was left awestruck. 

Her first cast of ⌈Ruptis Lucis⌋ only seemed to inflict nausea-- minor internal bleeding at best. 

But the enemy...

--their bones... 

--they were crushed, as if they were squeezed from two or three sides by divine force. 

The effect was most obvious in the arms, legs, and ribcage. 

The worst off had collapsed to the deck as grotesque meat puppets, their bones pulverized to dust... their unsupported flesh weighing upon their sensitive organs. 

Even those that remained standing, however, suffered some kind of internal injury, judging by the blood spilling from their mouths and gills. 

Tycon found himself, head to toe, drenched in sweat. 

That Spell... he sensed it would have affected him as well-- but the immediate area around Natalya was a dead zone. 

"Do the snapping thing," Natalya growled. 

Huh? 

"Well?" she snapped. 

"A-a-aye-- yes, Ma'am," Tycon managed to mumble. 

⟬ ⌈Commander's Strike⌋ activated. ⟭

He snapped his fingers. 

Tycon did not like what was happening. 

The Skill activated almost a half-second before he completed the gesture. 

He was terrified.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd been *nearly* as terrified. 

Natalya released her hand from her staff, still stuck in the deck, and she raised it skyward. 

"⌈Holy Shock Aura⌋."

A dozen tendrils of lightning struck down through a series of dark, magically formed clouds. 

"Repeat," Natalya commanded.

Tycon obediently snapped his fingers. 

The first ⌈Commander's Strike⌋ took a moderate amount of mana to activate. A consecutive activation sent a lance of pain through the side of his head-- and a deep ache seeping into his muscles. 

Though he'd recently undergone a complete reconstruction of his mana circuits and physique, it was still difficult to keep pace with Natalya's demands. 

Lightning struck again-- in different places. Each bolt unerringly found one of the downed enemies on board. 

Natalya put her hands on her hips, "And what were you saying just now, Snake?"

"Natalya..."

"And-- the snapping thing, did I tell you to stop?"

Tycon sniffed, trying to hold back tears of pain and humiliation. 

And he snapped his fingers once more. 

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!