Headed by a Snake

Zhevra held her breath as she watched Imperia limp her way forward...

It was a struggle.

Her breaths were wheezes of agony. Perspiration dripped down her face and exposed upper arms.

She stopped for a moment... and she shook her head as if trying to awaken.

The poison affecting her... was a cruel one.

It was administered by the Princess' personal bodyguard... an Elven male named Bizdiil. He was senile, xenophobic, and misogynistic-- therefore both emulated and celebrated amongst his kin.

For noble families, more than those born beneath them... the attempted assasination of one of their own earned swift retribution.

However... Bizdiil was merely the executioner.

The impotent knife-ear acted only under orders of his High Priestess.

...Apparently, in House Vulkoori, filicide was one of their favorite activities-- emulated... celebrated.

Yet... the ingestion poison was not enough to kill the Princess outright.

Or maybe it was...

Perhaps Imperia did not truly want to die, after all.

"I... I came here to kill you," The dying girl whispered... "Mother... will stop at nothing... so the least-- the least I can do..."

Zhevra raised an eyebrow. The least Imperia could do... was to kill Krysaos with her own hands?

That was... respectable. It was courageous. It was taking control of her own fate.

If that was Imperia's decision... Zhevra could not interfere-- not if she wanted the Princess' loyalty in the future.

Krysaos' death was guaranteed.

According to House Vulkoori, he was a simple privateer, a man without status... without wealth... without royal blood.

That... commoner-- he dared to court Imperia.

House Vulkoori did not seek to verify. Perception took precedence over reality.

Though Krysaos' reputation was not so simple... it was unforgivable.

Though the Princess' life was already forfeit... the insult remained.

House Vulkoori was not the wealthiest house-- nor did their words carry weight in the Eastern States. They would not have become pawns to a single human Wizard, if otherwise.

Still, it was an old House... established, with a great deal of connections. It was easy for them to hire one or three or three dozen Dark Guilds to assassinate a single mark.

Captain Krysaos of the Neptune's Revenge... lived in both fame and infamy.

The man was wronged by the sea god and sought revenge. He raised a ship from the bottom of the ocean... and it was crewed by evil creatures from the depths. The legendary Tactician of Sol Invictus served by his side, under his very command.

They were rumors... based only loosely on actual truths.

But Zhevra saw one truth with her own eyes.

He had a close relationship to a certain Elven Princess... very close.

Krysaos would die, yes. But... there was no better way to die than to be killed by a beautiful woman who loved him with all her heart.

Imperia stood at sword's length from the human Captain... and finally... he turned to face her.

His hopelessness and hatred had left him... replaced by a sneer of contempt.

The change was so sudden... so drastic that the hairs on the back of Zhevra's neck stood on end.

'Kill him, Sister,' She begged in her heart. 'Kill him. Bury your mistakes. After, we will take you away... we will keep you safe.'

As long as Krysaos died, she and Vyzen would earn a bounty from their employer. That coin and more would go towards taking Imperia to a healer... then changing her identity to escape her mother's watchful eye.

But that... that honest... foolish child... she collapsed to her knees.

She smashed her forehead against the rocks on the ground.

"I'm sorry, Krysaos! I... I know you can't forgive me... but... I'm truly... sorry."

She... apologized... without hesitation... without shame.

When she lifted her head, Zhevra saw her face lit by the moon, tears streaming... nose running... a stream of red flowing down the top of her scalp.

"Kill me if you must!!" She begged, "But please... forgive me."

Zhevra moved as fast as she could, grabbing the Turathi rifle on her back, tucking the stock against her shoulder, and lining up the sights...

--but it was too late.

Captain Krysaos drew his rapier from its scabbard.

He cut in front of him.

The dark elf Princess placed her hands on her neck.

"Aughhck... hckkkkk... hrrrRRRR!!!"

She gasped in surprise... but she could not find air. Instead, she found the sick, wet gargle of blood welling in her throat.

"Your head is too *stupid* to see my sister's sincerity," Zhevra pulled the trigger.

**BANG**

A burst of blackened blood erupted from Krysaos skull.

Before he could fall, she pulled it again, "And you have NO heart!"

**BANG**

The second shot pierced through the man's chest.

The body collapsed with an ignoble thump... but it did little to alleviate her rage.

"Gods... damn it," She grit her teeth.

The Princess... had gone through so much pain. She'd experienced so much hate and distrust.

How?

How... could she have put so much faith in a single person?

Trading her life for forgiveness?! It was the single most idiotic deal Zhevra had ever seen in her life...

"Damn it all..." She clenched her fist... squeezing tears of frustration out of her eyes, "Why, Imperia? WHY?!"

...

⟬ In yet another place... ⟭

Tycondrius opened his eyes to find himself standing in a field of grass that grew up to his waist.

Observing his surroundings, he made an inquiry to his System... trying to discern where he was *not.*

He was not... in an illusion.

...That would have been the most ideal. Tycon's particular set of skills made even advanced illusions simple to break.

He was not in a Reality Marble... which came as a minor relief.

When Tycon was entrapped in the Realm of the Cloud Goddess, he cultivated on his own for several weeks while his System tried and failed to brute-force the credentials necessary to escape.

He left that place so *quickly*, only due to sheer luck. He chanced upon his captor, Jiang Ying Yue, and obtained an intimate analysis of her mana signature.

A Dungeon, perhaps?

Assuming Princess Ophelia's ritual worked correctly, Tycon was in the 'Water Temple.'

...Yet, if that was true, that was *severe* misnomer.

There wasn't a single structure in sight.