Headed by a Snake
348 Lighthouse
A few more moments passed without incident, not that Tycondrius was particularly concerned.
Reload. Brace and aim. Breath control. Slow and steady squeeze of the trigger. Reassess situation. Repeat.
The encounter was finite. No matter how much suffering, whether it was physical, or through the slow and steady annihilation of his hopes and expectations... it would end, eventually.
"⌈Ravagerrrrrr's STRIKE!!!⌋"
Tancred's voice came at an unwelcome time. The Iron-Rank Reaver struck a weighty greataxe against the Frost-Tail's head, forcing it to stagger backward and away from Legionnaire Karodin. The damaging attack was sound. Its execution was questionable.
In its half-blinded blood haze and without an obvious target to direct its anger upon, the creature began to thrash about. Its mana-empowered tail launched three different Stormbrands away-- one of them into a pile of suspicious-looking rocks near several suspicious-looking holes.
Stone Frogs, the roundish, grey-skinned creatures began to swarm, trying to defend their hatchery. The stone spheres cracked open, revealing even more juvenile, but more-or-less fully formed creatures.
The unlucky Stormbrand amongst them woke from their brief unconsciousness only to find dozens of the many-legged rocks desperately flinging themselves at him. The agonized screams only lasted a brief moment. Though painful, there was some luck in that the powerful jaws of the small magical beasts were able to end them quickly.
Tycon glanced over to Occam. The Cleric was circling around the Frost-Tail, warscythe poised above his head, ready to attack. He was completely oblivious to the painful death of one of his teammates.
The furious Frost-Tail charged forward, away from Tancred and Occam, as well as a desperately-chasing Karodin. It crashed into a ring of pillars near Zenon, collapsing them and covering that area in a cloud of dust and dirt.
Tycon continued to fire his crossbow. He'd move in case he needed to pull the Centurion from the rubble... but he was not at all planning on joining the absurdity of the striker line.
The dust cleared quickly with a shout and a blast of wind emanating from Zenon. The Centurion was well, sheathed in his own ⌈Wind Barrier⌋. Two other archers were not.
Tycon found the casualties thus far... unacceptable. Were the other teams doing this poorly?
A stream of Frost Frogs were heading towards the back line, too many Bronze-Rank Stormbrands down to intercept them.
Tycon glanced over to Tanamar. The Holy Lancer was a focused, unending stream of light, launching dozens of his arrows at the Frost-Tail's side, precisely collecting near where Tycon estimated the creature's heart would be.
Tanamar was very good at what he did. The Holy Lancer had a massive mana pool and it seemed that remaining focused on the Frost-Tail would drain the rest of its stamina. Tycon's help was no longer necessary to secure the kill.
Tycon threw up a hand signal for Zenon to join him, then together, they began to hurry towards the defense of the back line. While he had no doubt that the Bronze-Rank Frostblade, Athena Vanzano, could protect herself, it was a better use of Tycon's time to go where he could help.
...
⟬ Several minutes later. ⟭
Tycon stepped amongst the scores of Frost-Frog corpses. He utilized his enchanted short sword to deliver killing blows to the remaining injured, still-living creatures-- a normal sword would be damaged by their blood.
Photios whistled, "Librarius Zenon!! You're a piece of work!"
⟬ Photios, Iron-Rank Human Silver Pyromancer. Guild Brazen Guard. ⟭
"My thanks, Ignus Cantor," the mustachioed Zenon smiled. The two of them clasped hands at the wrist. As they too, scanned the battlefield for surviving enemies, they idly spoke of their experiences in the Church.
Zenon made a friend. Good for him.
"Looks like the two witches are bed-buddies," One of the surviving Stormbrands remarked, taking no care to lower his voice, "Typical."
"Did you hear what Tancred called him? Lighthouse!! Hah haha!!" Another Stormbrand added.
"Hah! Because he's tall and light can go through his ears??"
"Because when he's around, people crash into the rocks and die!! Aaahaha!!"
Tycon had several problems with what he was hearing. Many of the adventurers the Stormbrands' ranged line were injured, some critically so-- some of them even belonging to the Stormbrands proper. Still, there was no respect given to those who fell.
Only weaklings fell in battle. Such arrogance was not at all conducive to a team environment.
Also, that was the exact opposite of what a lighthouse did.
Tycon was having a personal crisis. He had initially thought it was an excellent idea to accompany Tanamar's and Athena's adventuring company. Team Athena would receive pay from the Brazen Guard for their efforts and there was plenty of valuable combat experience to be had.
The Stormbrands...
He hated them. He hated being around them. With the exceptions of Athena and Tanamar, he loathed every one of their members he'd properly met. He wanted nothing to do with them.
They had climbed half of a gods-damned mountain to get to where they were. Still, he was strongly considering abandoning the mission-- or at least his part in it. He did not want to die for someone else's quest.
He made a mental note not to allow Athena to fight in the main team. It would be a catastrophic loss if she were to be killed due to having shite teammates. Participating in a dungeon delve was not the only way for her to gain experience.
The Stormbrands defeated their Frost-Tail second amongst the teams of the Brazen Guard collective, only losing to Bannok's main team. It was an impressive achievement, especially considering that Bannok was a Gold-Rank Weaponmaster and had the assistance of Gold-Rank Hunter Felinus.
Shouts and cheers resounded in their group, praising Tanamar's name-- it seemed like the Stormbrands were also the loudest company in the collective.
Tycon did not know why the Stormbrands celebrated Tanamar as if his achievements were their own. It irked him. Then again, in his emotional state, he found everything to be irksome.
Every team in the collective took injuries. For such a small group, far too many Stormbrands were too injured to continue. The Stormbrands also incurred the only death.
That was absolutely not something to celebrate.
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