Headed by a Snake

"Your casting efficiency is superb, sir. Is that the result of your ritual?"

Tycon complimented Liber as he cut down a green bolt of eldritch energy. He dashed forward, aiming a round kick at the Warlock's thigh.

"Thank you, but I must apologize," Liber tilted his body and backstepped to dodge the swipe.

The Warlock sent a green-flamed front kick at Tycon's chest. Tycon was forced to block with the flat of his blade, staggering backward from the force.

Liber smiled, "My comprehension of the Eldritch Blast spell is well into Major Completion. I can go on for bells, at the least-- and I doubt you can continually dodge and deflect for even 5 more minutes."

Tycon nodded, "That is unfortunate to hear."

"Do continue to struggle, sir," Liber pointed the bloodied stump of his left arm forward. Abruptly his arm lengthened and its end transformed into a snake-head, snapping at Tycon.

Tycon smacked the artificial snake in the top of its skull with his sword pommel, "A few of the prisoners you released were brain-addled and unresponsive. I suppose that was your doing?"

"It was!" The Warlock pulled back his arm, whipping his snake-appendage across Tycon's face, "I offered the Snake God their minds and bodies."

Tycon rubbed his cheek. It would bruise later, "The process seems overly laborious for only so much power."

He reared his blade back and slashed in a full arc. As Liber dodged, Tycon drew his crossbow.

CHNK!! The crossbow released a bolt that struck the warlock in the stomach.

"Augh!!" Liber winced in pain, "Hm... Ohhh? Poison~?"

The poisoned bolt didn't seem to affect the man. Tycon was not surprised, "Blessing from the snake god, I'm assuming? Immunity?"

Liber nodded as he pulled out the bolt. A superficial amount of blood dripped from the shallow injury, "Also correct. Infernal Rebuke."

Tycon's skin felt hot as he leapt back. Green flames glowed around him, burning his skin, "Arrrrghh!! Fffff*ck!!! Owww..."

Tycon tossed away his crossbow, grabbed the end of his cloak, and swept it in front of him. Surging his mana outward, the flames disappeared as quickly as they came.

"Tsk tsk," Liber pointed his sword with a limp wrist, "For the record, I thoroughly enjoy using the bodies of young women as my personal playthings. I believe every hot-blooded man is the same."

Tycon shrugged as he unstoppered and drank a potion. It was his last, "I'm a firm believer in proper, respectful courtship between two partners. Shadowfang Strike."

Liber narrowed his eyes as Tycon stepped backward and melded into the deeper darkness, "Your tricks will not help you, Mister Tycon."

pαпdα-ňᴏνê|·сóМ The pirate turned to the side and slashed at the shadows, deflecting Tycon's sword. His eyes widened, realizing the force was too light-- it was a feint! Tycon put his weight into the downstroke, forcing Liber to block upwards.

The Shatterspike longsword neatly cut through the dark iron blade, opening a vertical laceration down the Warlock's chest, "Augh!! You gods-damned rat!"

Tycon thrust his longsword at the Warlock's throat, but Liber disappeared in a gout of flames, reappearing 5 yalms back. Embers of the green glow were scattered around the hallway, dimly lighting the room.

Tycon swiped his sword with a flourish, cleaning it of blood, "Tricks are quite useful for changing the status quo, Mister Liber. You should not underestimate them."please visit panda-:)ɴᴏᴠᴇ1.co)m

The Warlock tossed away his broken sword and drew a line with his fingers on the gash, closing the wound, "Well played, then... Though I must say that you'd have won by now, had you used that Skill earlier."

The two observed each other at a distance, weary from battle. They both tacitly agreed to use the combat lull to regain their stamina.

Tycon took a deep breath, "I had only developed the Skill recently. It's quite unpolished."

"Then your mastery of swordsmanship and shadow manipulation is respectable." Liber politely bowed, revealing a head drenched with sweat, "When I offer your life to the Snake God, I will undoubtedly receive a great boon."

"Thank you," Tycon retrieved his crossbow and loaded a new bolt, "But really? Snake god? Have you listened to your own drivel?"

Liber tilted his head upward, his clenched fist smoldering in mana, "Worship of the Snake God is a core belief of mine, Mister Tycon. I have years of theological debate and discussion on the matter."

"Ah, I had spoken carelessly. Forgive my ignorance," Tycon returned the bow. It was unfair of him to allow his prejudices to interfere with his professionalism. "Theological differences aside, understand that I wish to kill you due to your allegiances and because I find your face to be tiresome."

The Warlock grimaced as he twisted his beard with his fingers, "I quite pride myself in my appearance, sir."

"Oh, I'm certain you're very handsome. It makes me want to drag your face against the broken floorboards."

"Have we devolved to personal insults, Mister Tycon?"

"Oh, no, Mister Liber." Tycon feigned offense, "If I knew of your mother's location, I would gut her as an act of goodwill for humankind."

The Warlock narrowed his eyes, raising his palm towards the ceiling, "I've had quite enough of you, whelp. Nypacian Serpents!!"

A misty haze surrounded Tycon as dozens of mana-formed snakes tore out and latched their fangs to his body. Tycon winced as he pulled a snake off, crushing it into mana-dust, "Humorous. I'd say the same thing to your mother if she were to spread her legs."

Liber raised an eyebrow, "The Nypacian serpents have no effect? Mister Tycon-- are you, perhaps, blessed by the Snake God as well?"

"Astute observation," Tycon finished plucking the snakes from his body. Other than the shock of their bites, the illusory snakes hadn't caused him injury... "But I haven't the slightest."

"No matter," The Warlock rapidly gestured a series of seals with his one hand, "I'll end you now and be on my way."

"A familiar quote from your father to your mother, I believe."

Liber began transforming his surrounding mana to a noxious cloud, roiling and violent, "(Snake God, hear my will. Grant thy loyal servant the flames of Witchfire!! The heretic before me, I offer his soul to you!!)"

Tycon waved his hand to activate his spatial ring. A barrel reaching up to his chest appeared in front of him.

Liber cackled, mad with power, "Gwahaha!! Are you trying to hide behind a paltry barrel?! You underestimate my power!!"

"Well, yes. I had guessed as much."

Tycon grasped his longsword with both hands, channeling what pitiful mana reserves he had remaining... "Iron... Dragon... REND!!"

With a surge of mana, Tycon slashed the blade upward. The wooden floorboards split apart, rending a deep crevasse in the ground. Splinters, dust, and debris clouded the air.

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