Krysaos had a sword in King's back... but he knew damn well that alone wouldn't be enough.
Free arm, hooked around the guy's neck. His weight, shifted to keep King's center of gravity unbalanced. Krysaos even wrapped his own leg around the elf's to keep him locked down.
Strength was nice-- real nice... but it wasn't something Krysaos ever really had. He made up for it by sheer force of will... and still, King was only seconds away from breaking free.
Still, Kryasos had technique.
He had smarts.
He had cunning.
Even a guy as insanely strong as King had his limitations.
It's not like he was a god.
"Back down, Tycon!" Krysaos shouted,"Or else the elf GETS it!!"
He was hoping... gods-damned near praying that his gamble would work out.
Taking King as a hostage was an opportunity.
It was a dangerous as f*ck opportunity-- but f*ck it, he couldn't take it back.
Unfortunately, it was also the extent of his plans. He didn't have any time to think about what to do next-- or even what the consequences of what the hells he was doing.
He was living in the moment... and if, in that moment, he chose to let go... he'd die.
Painfully.
King had a minor healing Skill... but it wasn't as good as the LT's.
In THEORY... as long as this was a training exercise and not the two bastards actually trying to kill him, Tycon should back off.
The LT, after all, was logical to a fault. He didn't want anyone dead. Sea god's socks, the guy might even be impressed.
Krysaos looked over King's shoulder-- twisting his rapier to keep the elf honest.
...Tycon was gone.
That a fifty-fulm long Sea Serpent could disappear like that was... really f*cked up.
"EEEK!!!"
"No..." Krysaos whispered.
It was Imperia's voice.
The closed door to her house... it was open.
One of the window shutters on the second-deck broke open.
Imperia fell out of it, landing awkwardly onto the paved street.
"AugggGHHHH!!!" She moaned in pain.
Krysaos tightened his hold on King as he grit his teeth.
Imperia's leg... it was twisted around, the white of fractured bone sticking out through her bloodstained flesh.
She was still tied up... and her face-- it was battered and bloody.
Tycon in human form vaulted from the window, landing with his knee straight down on Imperia's back.
ραпdα nᴏνɐ| сom Krysaos heard... the crunch of her spine.
She stopped screaming.
She... stopped moving.
Krysaos wrenched the Heart of the Ocean out of King and pushed him away, onto the side of the road.
"TYCON!!!! What the F*CKING F*CK HAVE YOU DONE?!?!"
The green-haired, dark-armored monster stood up with an insulting level of casualness.
Deep crimson blood stained his pale cheeks.
No remorse in his golden eyes.
He drew the Tyrion sword on his waist... and he spoke without moving his mouth.
« Think, Brother-Captain... Who is your real enemy? »
Krysaos strengthened the grip the hilt on his rapier... and spoke from the heart.
"Myself... and my own f*cking weakness."
« An amusing answer, but it will do. »
Krysaos shut his eyes, tears of rage streaming down his cheeks.
"What the F*CK ARE YOU SAYING?!?!"
**PAP**
...
⟬ In the Dungeon, Room 15-D. ⟭
"⌈Desire Trigger⌋," Tycondrius slapped Krysaos across the face.
⟬ ⌈Desire Trigger⌋. Support ability. Targeted ally is compelled to envision an existing incentive, moderately boosting target's ability to resist detrimental effects. ⟭
"Oof," Elle grimaced. "He's gonna feel that in the morning..."
Ravidius raised his spear to better illuminate the Dungeon rom, "Is zhat... really necessary, Monsieur Tycon?"
"No," Tycon shrugged as he stood up. "With my Support Skill, Krysaos should now be envisioning his motivations for his life-quest-- or... judging by his heart rate, something else of an unsavory nature."
He turned to Elle, "Should the good Captain awaken with... a lust for blood, I'd rather he be dazed and disoriented than not."
Krysaos slowly sat up, supporting himself with his elbow... hand on his swelling cheek.
He choked on a sob, out of breath... "The... the f*ck?"
"Ahaha HAHA!!"
The satyr, Qiv, stood in the darkest corner of the room, giggling as if he were mad.
"You've done well, dear friends, to awaken your pet human," He grinned, his maw of sharp teeth particularly sinister in the shadows, "By the look on his face, he's *quite* enjoyed my masterful illusion!"
"An... illusion? After... all?" Krysaos lolled his head to the side... "It's... you? ...I'm... gonna... f*ckin'... kill you..."
With his heart revealed, Krysaos lost consciousness.
"...Is he gonna be okay?" Elle asked.
"Physically?" Tycon pursed his lips, "Yes. Mentally, however-- that is still to be seen. Mister Qiv, I should thank you for your... unsolicited and unorthodox assistance."
The situation was... somewhat troublesome.
Physical injuries sustained by the body were simple enough to restore with magic.
Mental traumas... required time and therapy to alleviate.
...And even so, would not necessarily heal.
Seasoned adventurers often retired, not because they were physically incapable... but because their hearts and minds could no longer stand to suffer the atrocities wrought by their own hands.
"Not a problem, snake-guy," Qiv chuckled. "The Silence Slimes that got to him did most of the work. I just... you know, changed it up just a liiiitle bit-- y'know, to help him out."
"Herding ze slimes..." Ravidius trembled slightly, "if it were not for my family's expertise in charades... Monsieur-Capitaine would not 'ave fared even half as well."
"Anyroad, that's a job well done," The satyr made his way to the door, "Now we're even, Tycon. Yeah?"
"Pray the Captain does not meet you again," Tycon waved him off. "I will not be able to save you, then, Mister Qiv."
After the capricious fellow's departure, Elle still wore a look of concern, "Fae are really kinda scary, aren't they?"
"If you believe ze dreamweaving fae are terrifying, Mademoiselle, you should see a Corallidus," Ravidius offered. "Big, 'ulking brutes-- and all zhey care for is avarice, cruelty, and war."
Tycon sighed, "I have delved into dreams before... and while I don't agree with the satyr's... invasive procedures, the positive effects are undeniable."
Ravidius frowned as he scrutinized the unconscious Krysaos... then his eyes widened in realization, "His mana is rampant... unrefined? I do not understand your meaning, Monsieur? Would you care to... help me'owt?"
"Tychon, he's doing it again," Elle pouted.
Tycon picked up the Captain and slung him over his shoulder, "As a result of his training and... what I'm assuming was a harrowing experience, Captain Krysaos has broken through to Iron-Rank."
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