Headed by a Snake

"That... is fair," Tycondrius shut his eyes... "Very... fair..."

Human.

Ravidius' casual comment was... a striking revelation.

Tycon was... a very powerful snake.

He was very good at murder. He ate well, more often than not.

Unlike other snakes, birds of prey were a non-issue for him.

Also, thus far... he had avoided typical parasites and infections common to his kin.

However, as Ravidius stated... his actions and motivations had always been... distinctly human.

Honor and professionalism? Repaying debt. Building long-term relationships.

Tycon massaged the bridge of his nose while deeply inhaling the heated steam from the springs...

He felt like a fool for embracing strictured responsibility while rejecting murderous hedonism-- especially because he had a choice to be a selfish snake, if he so wished.

Being human was horrible. And difficult. And generally thankless.

Empty night...

Ravidius took a deep pull of wine... "Should ze Realm be destroyed... Megara and I will leave zhis place. Of course, if you wish to come wis' us..."

That sounded nice-- though it was exceedingly frustrating that Ravidius felt no responsibility to the Realm in its time of need.

Tycon narrowed his eyes, "Planar teleportation is illegal, Ravidius."

"Nyeh," The Hero shrugged in response, "Wi'zout a Realm to protect, ze Gatekeepers will not come for me."

The two gentlemen shared a bout of silence... Tycon stewing in the nigh-scalding waters-- and emptying the rest of his drink in a swift pull.

...Thankfully, the cat-fellow didn't offer any more psyche-shattering observations.

Ravidius finished his own cup, smacking his lips...

"Nyaa... Mm. I will have Alana show you ze gate you may take in or out of ze Tree God's Forest... Should you require sanctuary, you will always be welcome in our home, Tycondrius."

Tycon loosed a weary groan... but offered a polite, professional smile.

"And I extend the same welcome of you and yours, Ravidius Orion, concerning my ancestral home in Charm. Still... let us hope my allies and I can save the world-- at least this time, yes?"

...

⟬ The Dungeon infirmary, the morning after. ⟭

Tycondrius stepped through the gate and waved his hand, commanding it to seal behind him.

Having access to Alana's functions was... a convenience he did not realize he would so greatly enjoy.

After his various quests were complete, he would take up Ravidius' offer on recruiting a Dungeon Core of his own.

...or otherwise, he would appropriate one from a Dungeon Master less deserving than he.

"Are you prepared to return to Whitehearth, Captain Krysaos?"

Krysaos was sitting on his bed, absentmindedly cleaning his pistol.

He had a fresh shave and haircut... and, earlier in the sun, Megara had labored to repair his tattered clothes with magic.

Despite his professional appearance, however, he wore a grim expression... quite contrary to his usual half-smirk full of confidence.

"Ah... Mornin', LT," He sighed.

"Good morning, Brother-Captain," Tycon smiled. "having second thoughts?"

The Captain gave a slow, deliberate nod... "You... tried to kill me in the illusion."

"Oh?" Tycon raised an eyebrow, "Tried, you say?"

That sounded rather unrealistic. If he was actually trying to kill the Captain, he would have succeeded.

Krysaos clenched his eyes shut, as if the memory pained him, "You almost got me, too.... You... used a form that looked a lot like Iyuri's. Way different-- way bigger than I expected."

"How amusing," Tycon chuckled, "Princess Iyuri shared a drop of her essence with me before we left Thorne. However... I haven't yet revealed my Sea Serpent form to anyone, since."

He pulled up a chair and casually took a seat, "I'm assuming illusory-me gave you a rather difficult time."

"Yeah... you could say that," Krysaos lowered his head.

Tycon followed his gaze. The Captain wasn't looking at anything in particular.

He was... hesitant about something, then?

"Krysaos," Tycon pursed his lips, "You've something on your mind."

The Captain took a deep breath... "Hh...yeah? Hey... listen, guy... I... don't think I'm cut out for adventuring. Not after... what I saw in... in that place, I guess."

"I beg to differ, Brother-Captain," Tycon placed his hand on his chin, "You live. You've recognized your weaknesses. Many adventuring careers end without such luxuries."

The gentleman suffered a setback. His psyche certainly took a blow... and the mental trauma he suffered could not be discounted.

However, realistically... an illusion was the most... polite form of hardship the Captain could have faced.

Whatever he'd learned of himself was probably along the lines of what Tycon had experienced, conversing with Ravidius the evening prior.

Krysaos stared down at the pistol in his lap... "I just... wanted to kill the sea god. But.. you... and King... you guys are the type of people that can do that. I'm... just human."

"Regardless of the level of your perceived humanity," Tycon shook his head... "I recall... you've sworn an oath."

"To kill a... f*ckin' god," Krysaos gulped... "I remember."

"You and I, Krysaos..." Tycon grinned, "we swore that, together, we would oppose the world."

That bought a light chuckle from the gentleman... "F*ck me and my stupid mouth."

Tycon gestured towards the weapon in the Captain's lap, "Remind me again what that is."

"...A gift... to mock me," Krysaos sighed. "The sea god telling me how weak I am... that even though I have a weapon capable of injuring him, that I won't have the balls to do it."

"Tss," Tycon scoffed. "Your concerns are stupid and nonsensical. If it can bleed it will die."

"Hah..." Krysaos laughed derisively... "But come on... Me? Kill a god? I'm just a braggart and a f*ckin' liar, LT. I ain't... I don't... I dunno if I rate, you know?"

"Regardless of your insecurities, Brother-Captain... you are a man of action. I've seen you murder in cold blood. I've seen you take charge of your men and lead with honor."

"I... didn't do any of that by myself."

"Nor is it necessary to face your challenges alone," Tycon laughed. "When I killed my first god, it was in conjunction with two good friends, one being Brother Hades-- you remember him."

"You did wh-- ah..." Kryasos nodded. "Yeah. Good guy. Real good guy."

"And further, Brother-Captain... I'm assuming you didn't fight illusory-me without the use of cunning and guile."

Krysaos' face paled... and he audibly gulped... "N-nah... you would've eaten me alive."

"Ugh," Tycon groaned. "I've no taste for sentients. I pray you've noticed I prefer a human form to a serpentine one."

"Figure o' speech, guy."

Krysaos rolled his eyes... but his spirits seemed to be returning, "I... think this training's gotten me a bit stronger, Tycon... but it's not enough."

Tycon crossed his arms, silently making calculations...

"Two or... three weeks should do."

"Eh?"

"Congratulations, by the way. You've reached Iron-Rank."

"I-- what?"

"--Therefore you'll need at least that long to grow accustomed to your improved mana reserves, casting efficacy, and overall physique."

"Huh?"

"According to Miss Coraline... the breath of a dying god is the ritual component we seek to complete our quest."

Krysaos narrowed his eyes as he stood up... "What the... what-- are you sayin', LT?"

Tycon shrugged, revealing his open palms, "I get you to the sea god in reasonable condition, Brother-Captain. And then, we see if you have the... balls, as you say, to pull the trigger."

Krysaos took a deep breath, "You ain't makin' this easy for me."

"Incorrect, brother! Ahaha!" Tycon laughed unapologetically, "The fates have seen to grant you a literal god-slaying weapon, a vendetta against an unsavory god... and an entire crew of professional murderers insane enough to support you."

"Ugggh..." Krysaos leaned his head back, groaning to the ceiling, "And... the best gods-damned Lieutenant in the Realm."

"Aptly stated." Tycon reached a hand forward, "What say you then, Krysaos, Captain of the Neptune's Revenge?"

Krysaos clasped Tycon's hand at the wrist, "Us against the world."

"So be it. Us against the world."