Headed by a Snake

845 Divine Enchantment

Tycondrius kept his vigilance of the Hidden Lake Sect's Guardian Beast.

Oftentimes, such creatures had unwelcome surprises as they succumbed to death.

...A second-form, perhaps?

...Or a third?

A violent explosion, maybe? No, that was unlikely.

After several ⌈Commander's Strikes⌋ and a rotation of Krysaos' own offensive abilities, the giant tuna spirit finally collapsed into a gallon-fall of clear water and hissing, billowing steam.

Captain Krysaos stood heroically where it fell, dramatically raising the Heart of the Ocean towards the ceiling, "YEAHHH-HAHHHH!!!"

...Though celebration was deserved for a powerful enemy so soundly defeated, Tycon did not join his companion's exultations.

It was not the first Adamantine-Rank enemy he'd defeated.

...The same was also true for Krysaos.

Instead, Tycon stabilized his breathing as he stretched his arms and rotated his back.

He had executed a series of his most powerful Skills against the summoned Whitesaber Tuna. Yet, unlike in previous battles against opponents of similar strength, he had received no injuries-- and was suspiciously free of mana fatigue.

His self-confidence grew as a Gold-Rank combatant, a result of focused training, diligence, and best practices.

He sighed deeply, lamenting the fact that he was not the type of Hero to be showered with copious wealth and personal power with minimal effort.

He wanted to curse that type of person... but he was friends with one, while another was a subordinate of unquestionable loyalty.

Tycon casually glanced up, observing the 10-fulm-wide sphere of mana roiling at the Inner Sanctum's center.

That it remained despite the dissolution of the Guardian Beast's form was...

"Curious..."

The construct had been defeated, that much was certain.

Was it... re-forming? If so, it was likely to withdraw... or regroup with any sect survivors.

"Hmm..." Tycon lightly ground his teeth, annoyed by the development.

He'd need to pursue the construct and finish it off... but it would be burdensome for him to expend so much more of his mana reserves.

That amount of mana in the Inner Sanctum was worrying... While it wasn't sufficient to threaten the current Tycon, it was more than enough to kill an Iron-Rank.

"I have the powAAAHHHHH!!!" Krysaos roared.

"...Krysaos," Tycon glared.

The Captain continued as if he hadn't heard him, "AaaaHHHhh!"

"What... in the names... of the seven heavens and eleven hells... are you--"

"HAaaAHHhhHhhHHHHHHHH!!!!!?!!"

Tycon's eyes widened as he observed the ebb and flow of mana in the room.

The energies left over by the Divine Guardian Beast... were flowing into Krysaos.

He was... trying to absorb it all using the Heart of the Ocean as a conduit.

That... FOOL OF A HUMAN!!!

Tycon summoned his enchanted short sword out of his spatial ring.  Though Tycon very much wanted to, there was no time to waste screaming at Krysaos for being a reckless, suicidal idiot.

The divine power coursing through the man was an unstoppable stream. It could only be severed by an outside force.

...And even that wouldn't ensure his survival.

Tycon dashed forward, carefully judging the distance... and charged mana into his weapon to transform it into a whip.

The metal segments wrapped around the Heart of the Ocean... and promptly shattered into a thousand fragments.

"KRYSAOS, you INSUFFERABLE CRETIN!!" Tycon shouted indignantly, "That was my favorite GODS-DAMNED SWORD!!!"

Krysaos responded with a blood-throated scream of agony at the top of his lungs.

Blue-tinged light shone brilliantly out of his eyes and mouth. Blood flowed freely from his exposed orifices.

He was trying to pry the sword out of his clenched main hand-- something Tycon had determined, seconds prior, was absolutely useless.

It both looked and sounded painful.

He deserved at least that much for his idiocy.

Tycon's mind raced as he took stock of his abilities and remaining enchanted gear.

⌈Desire Trigger.⌋

⌈Inspirational Surge.⌋

⌈Jumping Knee Counter...⌋

No... None of his support Skills could alleviate Krysaos' situation...

As for his offensive Skills--

⌈Legionslayer...⌋

That had a chance to work. Tycon just needed to execute the Skill while striking Krysaos' weapon away.

The sword technique utilized a sliver of light mana, thus was somewhat divine in nature. That could plausibly resist the Divine Guardian Beast's destructive mana for his weapon to survive contact with the Heart of the Ocean.

As for the focus...

Tycon was loath to use his Sword of Venom. Though it did have a Third-Circle enchantment, he was reasonably certain it would be destroyed upon touching the flaring energies.

He still had the Shatterspike Longsword... but its material-destruction properties risked the Heart of the Ocean being damaged. Mina was soulbound to Krysaos, so that would risk both of their lives...

It would serve as a secondary plan, in case Tycon needed to sever Krysaos' sword wrist.

Then there was Moon Moon Moon, the sentient Wolf-Hammer that once belonged to Lone.

No, that wouldn't do... Tycon couldn't summon even half of the weapon's power since it was still soulbound to a dead man.

Tycon's eyes widened in realization.

The short sword he carried on his waist once belonged to Holy Swordsman Justus of Ezyria.

...moreso, it was once enchanted by a close ally... Divine Enchantress Rena.

If it had... even a sliver of divinity left in it...

No. Tycon liked that sword even more than his transforming whip-sword. He wouldn't waste it on--

"HEEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLPP!!!!" Krysaos screamed. Pitifully.

Tycon reluctantly drew the Tyrion blade... "If you break this, Krysaos, not even the combined forces of the seven hells and eleven heavens will save you from my wrath."

He dashed towards Krysaos and leapt up.

He apologized in his heart for having to kill Justus.

He cursed himself for allowing Rena to die without a complete corpse.

He prayed... that Krysaos would survive-- at least long enough to repay his sincerity.

"⌈LegionSLAYERRRR!!!!⌋"

**CLANG**

Tycon smashed the Heart of the Ocean out of Krysaos' grip, but did not pay attention to where it landed. He rolled on the dirt with his momentum and held his short sword up to inspect it for damages.

...It was fine.

Overwhelmed with relief, Tycon placed the cool blade against his forehead.

"Thank you, once again... Rena. And... I am sorry."

",

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