金瓶梅第2部

Tycondrius, Warlord of Sol Invictus, had taken an injury. It had been awhile. He had almost forgotten what proper pain felt like.

The games were over.

"Come at me, Justus. Your hatred for non-humans, I will receive it all.."

He flipped up his visor, undimming his vision. He didn't focus extra mana into his gaze, so he doubted it would be effective against another Iron-Ranker, but it would add to his intimidation factor.

⟬ Vexing Gaze: Ocular ability. Target takes damage from an illusory poison, affecting both target's mind and body. If successful, target becomes distracted and may go into anaphylactic shock. ⟭

Decanus Justus, Holy Avenger of Tyrion trembled slightly. He shut his eyes and shook his head violently to rid himself of the illusory poison.

"I don't hate you, Zehr," He said.

Perhaps it cleared his mind, as well.

"You won't be able to defeat me without it," Tycon chided. "You don't have the technical skill to challenge me... nor can you change your luck. You rely on strength and mana... both easily empowered by rage and hatred."

"I... will... NOT!!!" Justus yelled. He placed his sword in front of his face, charging it with a surge of mana. A beam of light struck the cavernous ceiling, a series of stalactites cracking loose and falling around them.

Tycon glanced up. It seemed he was safe from that. That was incredibly reckless of the young Decanus.

"⌈Sunblade Heaven Slash!!⌋" Justus yelled, launching another two crescents of golden energy-- the mana composing it, far more powerful and concentrated than before.

Right... that ability could be used multiple times.

"Good!" Tycon nodded. He dodged the first slash, then deflected the second with a mana-charged blade, "Use your aggressive feelings, young man! Let the hate flow through you!!"

It was a marvel of Tyrion steel that it could handle so much mana-abuse. He glanced down at his sword. It had cracked from where he deflected Justus' attack.

...Nevermind.

"This isn't hatred..." Justus growled. "This is the power of my faith."

Tycon felt his mouth twitch. For a soldier of the Holy Country, that... was the same thing.

"Stop this, Zehr!!" Justus pleaded, raising his glowing sword for another attack.

"Ah... hahaha..." Tycon chuckled ruefully, "Do you think this is the best I can do?"

⟬ Inspirational Surge conditions met. Activate? Y/N? ⟭

« Activate, thank you. »

⟬ Activating. ⟭

Tycon drew the two fingers of his left hand across the injury on his chest, wiping the blood off of the mending wound.

"Y-you can heal?" Justus asked, incredulously. "You... YOU CAN HEAL???!"

"I never said I couldn't," Tycon smirked.

"Why... but Rena... You could have... W....why?" Justus seemed to have become quite upset. "WHY???!! WHY DIDN'T YOU SAVE HER?!?!"

There was a simple answer to that. His healing ability, ⌈Inspirational Surge⌋, increased the natural healing of a target manyfold. As such, its effectiveness was muted on the elderly and those with naturally poor regenerative abilities, like horses.

...It also made him hungrier-- he figured all increased-regeneration type healing skills did. Near all healing abilities and potions had this sort of effect.

Divine casters like Fortuna had access to more effective healing. The most common of theirs reversed the damage, which allowed more critical injuries to be "reset" to an earlier, less injured state.

Rena's injuries were not at the level he could help... nor could Fortuna, for that matter. That sort of thing was useless to explain. He doubted Justus wanted the truth. He just wanted a target to let out his anger.

Tycon rushed forward, leaping up to attack. It was a calculated gamble. The best thing to do was to dodge his attack. Knowing Justus' personality, he'd likely block, distracted by the fact that he could heal and he did nothing as Rena died from her own foolishness.

"⌈SUNBLADE!! HEAVEN!!! SLAAAAASHH!!!!⌋"

Or Justus could attack. Shite.

Airborne, Tycon was unable to dodge. He desperately slashed his sword at Justus' first golden crescent, his sword shattering near the middle of the blade. He squinted his eyes, feeling bits of shrapnel cutting into his face, wishing he had not raised his visor. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, protecting his vitals from the Avenger's second slash.

It cut deep.

It hurt. The injuries would bleed profusely. But Tycon was still alive-- he wasn't certain he was going to survive, but that had minutes to be determined. He landed, dropping down to a knee.

He was close enough to Justus to deal a lethal strike.

The boy placed his sword in front of his face, "I'm sorry, Zehr... Receive thy ⌈Final Judgment.⌋"

Ah! That was the skill that felled the Manticore. Tycon could see... tears streaming down the young man's face. He had a good heart. It was too bad that that skill was far too slow to be effective. Justus raised his glowing sword for the last time.

Tycon stood up and sprinted forward, sheathed by magical shadows, "⌈Shadowfang Strike.⌋"

Not even the light of Justus' aura could pierce his movement technique.

Moving quickly through the shadows, Tycon ignored the searing heat of his injuries on his forearms to arrive behind Justus.

Tycon hooked his left arm around the young man's throat, then he shoved what was left of his broken sword into Justus' lower back.

With his left elbow, Tycon violently tilted Justus' head up... and grabbing the hunting knife off of his back, he sliced the Decanus' throat.

...Ah, maybe that wouldn't be enough. He placed his knife back against Justus' neck and cut again, slower, deeper. The young, dying man dropped his sword, pulling desperately at Tycon's grip. The young man struggled to breathe, but blood was filling his airways, and his desperate gasps for air turned to bubbling gurgles.

Tycon continued to hold Justus up, continuing his bloody work, carving deeply into human flesh. It took several seconds for the boy to stop struggling... finally falling limp in his hold.

Releasing the young man, Tycon kicked his back-- he was being very careful. Justus' body slumped onto the cavern floor, his face colliding hard against the rock.

Excellent. That was a good fight. Tycon hurt all over from using his mana and taking a bit of injury.

He picked up Justus' Decanus sword, which was in surprisingly good condition. He looked at his surroundings and counted the bodies in the cave. No one had 'woken up' and escaped, which was excellent.

« System, I'm feeling rather inspired. »

⟬ Inspirational Surge conditions met. Activate? Y/N? ⟭

« Yes, please, and thank you. »

⟬ Activating. ⟭

« System, change setting: When I thank you, I'd like you to respond "You're welcome." »

⟬ Setting change complete. You're welcome. ⟭

It was a job well done, he thought. Mana surged through his body, healing the cuts on his forearms. There was a copious amount of blood-- that he didn't yet feel lightheaded was a sign that he was near his breakthrough to Gold-Rank.

Tycon finished his work, systematically stabbing the throats of the fallen Rhodoks. It was best to be careful. None of them responded to his efforts, but it was always best to be sure.

Tycon's personal mission was a success-- defeating and killing several Iron-Rankers and a Gold-Rank. Now, all that was left was to stamp out the remaining Rhodoks, to allow Isidor a safe relocation.

Zero humans left in the cave. Twenty outside. Thirty-seven at the base of the mountain.