Headed by a Snake

Quay knelt down at the half-elf child's opposite side, "Hey, hey... don't cry. Listen, Fortuna. We're going to need your help... to save as many people as we can. We need you to be a hero, right now."

The young girl nodded, wiping at her eyes with her soot-covered dress, "I... Alright."

Tycondrius breathed a sigh of relief... It was nice to have someone intelligent in their group that could deal with crying children.

"Miss Fortuna, did you see any groups of people fighting against the Snake Cultists?"

...

⟬ Guard Tower. First Floor. ⟭

"Tyconnn!!" Quay moaned, "I cut my hand! Can I get a ⌈Heal⌋??"

"No," Tycon groaned. "My mana reserves are low and you're not that important."

"Is it 'cos I'm a mana-construct??" Quay cried. "Mana-constructs are people too!"

"Yes. And no, they are not."

"But it hurts!"

Tycon rolled his eyes, not deigning to grant the elf a response. Quay's young son, Pale, had never... EVER... complained as much as his father did.

Tycon kicked open the wooden door, which swung in, to the left. The cultists appeared to be expecting the intrusion... not that they could do anything about it.

He grabbed a nude human female by the face. Slamming the back of her head against the wall, her sword fell from her hand, clattering to the ground. He slid his own short sword deep underneath her armpit and into her heart, before throwing her back into another cultist-- a man suspiciously void of trousers.

Quay had charged in, on Tycon's left. Dancing in a circle, he severed a third human's hands at the wrist. That human's head slid off, falling to the side and rolling.

Even from so close, Tycon hadn't seen when the elf cut through the man's neck. The Blade Dance was... a stupid and nonsensical art... but it was effective.

Tycon had already stabbed the last human in the center of the throat... Thankfully, they died quietly without more of a struggle.

"Mister Quay..." He nodded, "Your combat prowess has not reduced, even with your injury."

"Well!!" Quay huffed, "It DOESN'T look like YOUR combat prowess has reduced-- AT ALL!! In fact, you're WAY stronger than I remember!! (Probably because your hand isn't cut.)"

Tycon sighed, wiping his sword on some unbloodied clothing he found resting in a corner, "You lot are reconstructed based on my past memories."

"And you're saying that like it's a good reason that you're STRONGER?!" Quay shouted.

The elf did have the mind to cut a strip of clothing fabric... wrapping it around his bloody hand and tying it tightly with his teeth.

...Tycon would have suggested the elf not do that with human underclothing... Why were Quay and Dragan such beasts of filth?

"It... is a good reason. Technically, I'm from the future."

"So future-you is stronger than current-me??" Quay gasped, "But you'd better watch out! I'm gonna train my arse off to defeat you!"

"...Good for you," Tycon shrugged. It wasn't worth arguing with Quay, mana-construct or not.

He walked back to the doorway, "Room's clear!!"

"Zuko and Gobsuke are gonna check the roof!!" Dragan's voice called back from elsewhere in the structure, "I'm-- finishin' things up, here! Ahahah! All risk, no re--OWW!! C'MERE you son of a--"

Dragan's voice was drowned out by... the many cries of a group of cultists, praising the snake god and... things of that nature.

Tycon didn't deem it important. Occupying the guard tower was a low-difficulty endeavor. Rather than being actual cultists, it seemed that many of the militia and guards were under the effect of a wide-scale Domination spell. With their minds clouded by magic, their martial combat abilities suffered.

...not that anyone in the guard fort was strong enough to contest Sol Invictus. There was a single Iron-Rank in the guard tower. After that fellow met with Zuko, he was relegated to blackened scorch marks on the ceiling.

Zuko's absurdly powerful abilities as an Iron-Rank would probably *break* Sorina's ⌈Parse⌋ skill.

"So... Tycon..." Quay snuck his face close, leaning over and looking up at him.

"What?"

"Tell me about... the FUTURE!!" The elf beamed.

Tycon pursed his lips as he considered it... there was little harm in providing information. This Quay only existed in the Reality Marble... so it wasn't like he could use any information given for malicious purposes. Actual time travel was much more troublesome... not to mention, highly illegal.

"You have a half-human son. I like him more than I like you."

"Wh-WHOA?" Quay lost his balance... smacking the side of his head on the wooden floorboards. It was a very... atypical thing for an elf to do.

"Is he STRONGER than me?!" The floor-elf asked.

"Not yet," Tycon shook his head. "But he will be, soon."

"Very well," Quay crossed his arms and nodded. "So is she Cassandra's kid?"

Tycon furrowed his brows... He did not actually know who Pale's mother was... and that name was not at all familiar... "No."

"Sophitia?" "No."

"Lady Palutena?" "...No."

"Sarah Rockbell!! ...Uzumaki Kushina, maybe?" Quay gasped in sudden realization... "Is he... is he Natalya Crucis' kid?! Is he a BADASS red-haired protagonist?"

"I certainly hope not," Tycon crossed his arms... "Have you had sexual relations with the Archbishop?"

"Well, no... she hates my guts. But I think that behind that cold, rocky and rough exterior, she has a heart of... meat." Quay's eyes suddenly widened... "Wait, she's an Archbishop now?!"

"...Yes."

"I GOT IT!!" Quay sat up, placing one fist into a palm. "He's the son of Maximus, the greatest gladiator known to--"

Tycon kicked Quay in the chest, grinding his sandal onto the fallen Pathfinder's stupid face, "That's not how babies are born, you dolt! Maximus is male and so are you!

"...You are male, aren't you?"

It was difficult to tell with elves.

"I-- I forgot what we were talking about," The sandal-faced elf muffled indignantly... "And yeah, I have a penis!"

"...Did you have sexual relations with--"

"I have not."

"..."

"But I was hoping that beneath that cold, scaly and--"

"--Stop there, if you would."