Headed by a Snake

Tycondrius held his palm toward Bella Sapphira, the strongest Witch.

"And you, Bella? Do you believe in me?"

Bella opened her mouth to speak... but she held her tongue.

Tycon furrowed his brows, trying to make sense of the situation.

The Bella he knew was a somewhat slothful, carefree Witch-- but that persona was nowhere to be found.

Instead, the Bella in front of him was oddly... caring?

The anti-lizard offensive was a war in the broadest sense of the term.

There were two sides. Sol Invictus and their allies fought against the enemy.

In Tycon's opinion, however, a crucial component of a *proper* war was a real and achievable set of conditions for victory.

"Bella, wars are waged with a long-term goal in mind... to secure the future of a people... to reinforce an ideology or for material gain.

"But... you know, as well as I do: the lizard king has awoken.

"Your intelligence verified it. My contacts amongst the Shadow Snake tribes have verified it. As direct proof, we've been seeing the effects of the enemy's Domination-Mages!

"Lizard. Domination. Magics-- even the notion of it sounds... abhorrent.

"This is not a war, Bella-- not when there's nothing to won and both sides are doomed to annihilation."

Bella folded her fan and shouted with all her might, "Then what's the point of gathering the nations together? What's the point of all the training? --of all the logistics?? --of all your stupid, overcomplicated plans?!"

Tycon sucked in air through his teeth.

"Our *efforts* are akin to... digging through dregs for resources, sacrificing too many lives for not enough reward...

"We have no power-- not even hopes or prayers, as the gods have forsaken us... but even with nothing, we resist the Tyrant God's hold to the bitter end.

"Altogether, all we mortals of this Realm are capable of... are the flailings of a wounded beast-- the pitiable violence of its final death throes."

Bella took a deep breath... though the way she breathed clearly communicated her ongoing frustrations.

"Your cynicism does not absolve you of your *literal* war crimes, Tycondrius of Charm."

"...Very well?" Tycon raised an eyebrow, "But to be clear, I have never wished for absolution, Lady Sapphira."

The Witch pointed her folded fan toward him.

"You are *nothing* like him," she declared.

She seemed to be referring to the previous-him. Tycon knew of that person-- partially from memories replayed with magical assistance, but mostly from second-hand accounts.

He was not impressed.

Tycon rolled his eyes, "You would compare the current me to a socially inept coward?"

Bella turned up her nose before again guarding her face via fan, "Hmph. I take it back."

Tycon crossed his arms, "It has become clear to me that I am not the person you hoped I was. And for that, I apologize."

The Witch narrowed her eyes but said nothing.

"Is there anything else to discuss?" Tycon asked.

He wanted to be freed from Bella's ⌈Domain⌋.

He was confident he could break it on his own, but that would take several minutes of brain-melting calculations. Unlike when his opponent was the deluded, lizard-sycophant, the Snake God, he could expect Bella to be somewhat reasonable.

"You are... not fit to be our Commander," Bella mumbled.

...And to that, Tycon laughed in her face.

"Hah! Hahahaha! Ohh... Yes. I wholeheartedly agree!" he grinned, "But, if I were to say as much, none would *dare* claim to be my superior."

"There are... others," Bella said quietly-- and notably absent of anything remotely resembling confidence.

"Like who?" Tycon demanded.

"This Realm... has heroes sworn to defend it."

"Name one."

"Pale... of House Mo--"

"Pale of House Morningstar??" Tycon groaned, "Pale is but a child!"

"He's a Hero," Bella huffed, adjusting her glasses.

"Hero, indeed. I was present when the Holy Princess selected him at random," Tycon said gruffly. "But I surmise the boy's Hero-ing won't be for *this* Realm. Last I saw, his strength had yet to mature... and we haven't the time to wait for it..."

"Give it up, Boss," Bella said. Her voice had dropped to a dangerous whisper.

"What? No."

Bella did not reply. Instead, she began to approach him warily, walking in a half-circle.

If she was trying to unnerve him, as a predator unnerves prey... it was working fantastically well.

Suddenly, Bella ceased her steps and Tycon caught the faint scent of... steamed milk?

Tycon sensed the creation of a complex array-- four simultaneous Spells, three active casts and an improvised Spell Formation.

Bella was a triple-casting genius.

The Formation, he was confident in interrupting. It was a low-level, Invisible Force-type Spell, likely meant to unbalance him.

The resilience of his physique allowed him to ignore it, if he wished.

The fire and ice Spells Tycon could deal with exact timing. The fire Spell was obscenely more powerful than its mirrored cast, but he could expend moderate effort to exploit their projectile pattern, largely mitigating the effectiveness of both.

The errant earth-type Spell was problematic. Bella was free-casting it without a focal point-- and its power and area of effect were such that Tycon could not ignore it.

Bella's attacking style was akin to that of a child's.

She rightfully assumed that a single Spell would not be enough. Thus, she decided to use four at once and hope for the best.

Tycon spent precious milliseconds extending his senses.

From his mana sensitivity... and corroborated by the light vibrations in the ground, he confirmed that Ishmael was hiding Caitlyn behind the stone lizard altar.

That... was unfortunate, but unsurprising.

Everything in Bella's ⌈Domain⌋ was dangerous. Thus, the one inanimate object left untouched was reasonably safe.

The altar...

Tycon briefly scanned the sigils on the stone altar.

They were... defensive in nature.

Granted, reading the script disgusted him.

For a very brief, minuscule, infinitesimally fleeting moment, he considered repairing and activating those defensive runes.

But he realized that he'd rather die.

Moving from his position risked Caitlyn's life.

Not moving risked only his own.

The Realm was going to shite. Always trying to survive was so tiresome; dying was a completely viable option.

And thus, Tycon stood fast in front of the stone altar, his hands outstretched to the side.

(Of course, he still de-activated that out-of-place kinetic force empowerment and weakened the twinned Spell.)

The many Spell Circles completed, executing their functions, with him as the target.

The fire burned. The ice... also burned. The pain was excruciating-- enough that his agony went un-screamed.

A blunted ⌈Earth Spike⌋ smashed into his side.

...That was most certainly going to leave a nasty bruise.

Another ⌈Earth Spike⌋ struck him in the crotch, which brought him to his knees.

He tried to remember a time when he had dignity.

...But he could not remember.

Ishmael had disappeared-- Tycon didn't have the mana to sustain him. But... by some stroke of miracle, Caitlyn remained alive, though unconscious.

"Wow..." Bella said in a monotone voice, "like-- way to subvert my expectations, Tycon."

Tycon clenched his eyes shut, trying not to shed tears in front of a woman who was theoretically his long-time ally.

"I... have a hostage," he said, with much difficulty.

"Yeah, I can see that."

"I'm... beginning to believe... that I-- have chosen poorly," Tycon coughed.

"Cortlyn's not even conscious."

"Her name... is... Caitlyn."

"No. Her name is Cortlyn."

Tycon looked up. Bella was looking down on him, wearing no expression in particular.

"You... would blame me for killing 40 thousand people... yet you... would endanger one of your direct subordinates?"

Bella rolled her eyes, "*45* thousand people, Tycon."

Tycon furrowed his brows as he flopped around on the floorboards.

He began to miss the temple's bloodied tile, as he keenly felt a splinter digging into his cheek.

"Don't ignore me, Bella," he groaned, "Did you not even-- urgh... did you not even notice the youngling?"

"Relinquish your rank, Tycon."

"Oh, sod off...."

"Otherwise, stand up and fight me," Bella said coolly.

Tycon flipped over to his opposite side, to better face the Witch.

"I've been saving Witches for the better half of the sun!" he roared, "Do you not even care? These girls idolize you!"

"45--"

"45 thousand people you don't even know!" Tycon said as he struggled to stand, "Humans of middling intelligence can handle -- what, 150 relationships? Even if you consider your bloodline, you can't be much different."

"Stand down!" Bella screamed, "Or I'll put you down, Maedar!"

"Then do it, Witch!" Tycon shouted.

He raised his hand.

He had no weapon.

...And even if he did, he found himself reluctant to attack.

He was naturally in a position to strike Bella with his open palm. He would not have hesitated if he was facing an illusion or suspected she was fighting via proxy.

Bella had implied that she was actually present...

Despite their... disagreement, he did not want to injure her.

As human as Bella appeared to be, the original cast of Sol Invictus boasted no humans.

She did not have the Witch Class, as many of her subordinates had adopted.

Bella was born as an actual Witch.

It was a powerful bloodline in the way of magic and Spellcasting-- not so much for their resilience.

However, Tycon was very upset. Also, as his senses were highly charged, he sought to be economic with his actions.

Therefore, he did strike Bella-- or rather, he smacked the overlarge, iconic Witch hat off of her comparably normal-sized head.

Unfortunately... that was a grave mistake.