Headed by a Snake

Tycondrius observed Sorina warily. The young lady did not look guilty, at all.

"One: Did Mister Lone deserve it?"

"He did," Sorina answered without hesitation.

Tycon was glad he did not need to clarify what exactly he was referring to.

"Boss! I-- I did not!!" Lone insisted. His eyes had widened and sparkled, looking like a wronged pup... an ugly pup.

"Two... Ah, this is more of a request than a question." Tycon pursed his lips... "I'd like you to... demonstrate your new skill."

Most Bronze-Rank adventurers could not develop skills on their own. If Sorina Capulet had, it meant her development as a combatant was coming along nicely.

As Sol Invictus' Chief Financial Officer, Sorina had access to an abundance of resources. She had personal training from the Gold-Rank adventurer, Seldin Korr, the Unbreakable. She had access to enchanted equipment. And she had the wealth to purchase medicine to accelerate her convalescence from injury.

Tycon would be more surprised if Sorina's combat ability did not progress, at all.

The young lady nodded with a simple, "Mm."

Taking two steps back, Sorina crouched... Placing her palms onto the ground, she acrobatically kicked her legs up, performing a handstand.

At that point in time, her Armor Cube... unfolded. In a bright flash of mana, the cube transformed into a thick bronze boot, which covered Sorina's right foot up to her knee.

"⌈Spinning BARZA KICK!!!⌋" Sorina shouted, smashing a heavy kick into the side of Lone's thigh.

"AUGH!!" Lone predictably crumpled to the ground in pain.

Tycon was... vaguely impressed. The kick was a skill. It was... a stupid skill that took far too long to perform... but it *was* slightly empowered by Sorina's Bronze-Rank mana.

It was, however, unacceptable that Lone was well-aware of the attack... knew the threat it posed... and still allowed himself to be struck by it. He would be punished for his laziness, later.

"Miss Capulet... How long have you been practicing that?"

"Over a year now," The girl grinned.

"Well done... but please develop *other* skills."

...

Tycon and Shao Ran stood on the filthy Silva docks, the stench of fishrot hanging in the air. The dead body of a young man floated in the waters nearby. Even in the Holy Country of Tyrion, some places were... horrid to live in or near.

A thick grey mist covered the sea, ready to hide the departure of a ship full of drunkards, murderers, and all-around excellent company.

It was a fitting environment to bid the Sea Wolves farewell.

"I ain't gonna lie, I'm gonna miss you, Tycon." Lieutenant Shao Ran grimaced. "A lot, even."

Tycon clasped wrists with Shao Ran, shaking wistfully, "To improve your accuracy, ensure you have proper breathing control and aren't jerking the trigger when you pull."

"You know..." Ran crossed his arms in thought... "The Sleeping Country's been pretty aggressive, as of late-- privateers preying on Kingdom ships, actually. I have a feeling that Lang Hai's gonna send us over there."

"Oh?" Tycon raised an eyebrow. It was always interesting to hear about the military movements of other nations... not that he planned on acting as a Warlord of that scale anytime soon.

"Yeah. Would love to have you for another raid. Murder some folks that have it coming to 'em?" Ran grinned toothily, "We did a number on those pirates awhile back, didn't we?"

Tycon pursed his lips, "Your Fleet Admiral, Lang Hai, and his three-year-old nearly died."

"Ah! Hahaha!" Ran laughed, "It wasn't all that bad!"

"I distinctly remember rinsing sand off of your literal intestines after you tried to strangle a pirate with them. How did you incur such an injury, anyroad?"

Ran reared his head back, biting his upper lip, "I uh... haha... If I remembered, I'd tell ya."

Tycon smiled, clapping his hand on Ran's shoulder, "Fair winds and following seas, Brother-Ran."

Ran pulled Tycon in for a tight and a slightly painful embrace, "Blood and thunder, Brother-Tycon!"

"V-victory at sea-- please-let-go."

...

After seeing Ran's ship, the Spear of Selene, sail off into the grey-misted waters, Tycon sought to converse in private with Tanamar.

He still needed to discuss some of his findings with the young gentleman... and the previous sun was not the time to do it. Thankfully, Tanamar had done as Tycon had requested and went to see Athena.

The two younger persons seemed closer than ever before, something Tycon gleaned by observing their body language when bidding farewell to the Sea Wolves.

As Tycon had no reason to remain angry at Tanamar, he took him to his favorite portside restaurant for the important conversation.

To call it a restaurant was... somewhat of an embellishment. It served food. It had customers and seating. It had walls made of... barely better stuff than flimsy wood. There wasn't much else.

Tycon's favorite meal in Silva was concocted at this location-- by a masterful female chef who hailed from the Eastern States. It was a creamy soup, heavy with clams, root vegetables, and salt pork simmered for so long that it felt like it melted when placed in his mouth.

Tanamar spooned through the delicious mixture, "This is... clam chowder?"

"Oh?" Tycon raised an eyebrow. "Have you had this before?"

The dish was uncommon in the Kingdom, and Tycon had only found it in port-side cities... He was also fairly sure it did not have widespread popularity in the Holy Country.

"Yeah, it's good." Tanamar nodded, taking a spoonful... "I heard you and Zenon are leaving after we do one more dungeon."

"Indeed," Tycon chuckled. "Miss Athena specifically requested it."

The young footman sighed, "Ah... yeah. She's like that. Sorry, man."

"It's no trouble," Tycon assured him. "If you did not realize, I quite enjoy sharing her company. The same extends to both you and Centurion Zenon, of course."

Tanamar smirked, exhaling in amusement, "Yeah. You're not so bad, yourself."

It seemed the young man held no hard feelings about the previous sun. That was good. Perhaps he had realized how much of an idiot he had been.

...Even though he deserved an apology, Tycon did not expect it... not from someone of Tanamar's personality. He did expect the young man to treat Athena well, though.

The two reminisced back and forth about their experiences... group training... the Icingdeath Dungeons... Athena's class change... and even the recent events at Caeruluem.

After the nostalgia, Tycon remembered his initial reason for seeking a private meeting.

"Athanasius..."

"Yeap?"

"Have you had romantic relations with Athena?"