金瓶梅第2部

"...Eh?" Cass tilted her head... "Wh... what?"

"When I looked outside earlier," Tycondrius gestured behind him, "There were no people in the streets."

Cass immediately rolled out of bed onto her feet and dashed to the balcony, "What the-- what's going on?! Where is everyone?!?"

It sounded like she was going to cry... again.

Tycon slowed his speech and softened his tone, hoping not to agitate her.

"Don't be alarmed, dear sister... but you and Atusa... you may be mana-constructs in a Reality Marble."

Cass turned, her face twisted in confusion, "B-but why?! Why would someone trap you in a-- WAIT! WHY ME?!?"

"Because this," Tycon stood up and gestured to his surroundings, "is my dream. I want my quest to be complete. I want to be done with it all.

"No more trying to relive the glories of my past... with allies that pale in comparison to the old members of Sol Invictus.

"No more doing favors for people who don't give a shite whether I live or die... embroiling myself in shite situations-- and for what? Because I foolishly cling to my dated ideals of honor and chivalry...

"I suppose... I want the safety and security of being... here, the closest concept of 'home' I can achieve in this life."

Tycon paused thoughtfully to poke at Cass' cheek, "with my favorite sister."

"Oy," Cass glared. "There's something wrong with what you're saying."

Tycon shrugged.

"I believe that whoever... or whatever wants to keep me here hopes for the illusion to last... that rather than struggling with the obligations in my actual life, I'd choose to live a peaceful, illusory life with my cute sister."

"There's lots of things wrong with what you're saying, right now, Big Brother," The blushing Princess mumbled.

"Can you reach anyone else via ⌈Message⌋?" Tycon asked.

Cass shut her eyes for several moments... then shook her head, "I just tried Mom... No luck."

Tycon approved of his sister's logical processes. However, if the creator of the Reality Marble couldn't recreate the citizens of Charm, it was highly implausible that they'd recreate Queen Rylania.

Still... it bothered him that there were so few people.

In the Halls of the Dead Serpent, Adamantine-Rank formations held together a Reality Marble of thousands of Bronze-Ranks, as well as dozens of Iron-Ranks.

In Cersei's Rest, the Gold-Rank Reality Marble he and Sasarame created managed a single Gold-Rank Dovahkiin Warmage, as well as varied forces of Bronze-Rank gladiators.

Thus far, Tycon had only encountered a single Iron-Rank Medusa Princess... and he very much doubted he was trapped in an Iron-Rank Reality Marble.

--Movement. Just outside the room, Atusa had fallen. He and his sister immediately snapped their heads towards the door... watching it gnarl and wither and rot.

A handsome green-haired gentleman in a white cloak kicked down what was left of the rotten barrier.

"Tycon, Tycon, Tycon..." He shook his head... "my not so faithful servant."

Ah. That was the mana-construct the rest of the formation was powering.

Cass pointed accusingly... not at the bloodied man at the door, but at him.

"WHY ARE THERE TWO OF YOU?!" She shrieked.

Tycon frowned, "Why are you asking me as if it's my fault?"

"I don't know HOW, but you're DEFINITELY at fault!" Cass retorted.

That was an unfair judgment... but it wasn't entirely false.

Zehr was wearing Tycon's face, as well as his charming smirk. He wore Tycon's usual cloak with the hood pulled back, save its color was bleached white, as opposed to a functional dark.

The chainshirt underneath clinked as he walked forward and the arming sword in his hand was wet with fresh blood. Atusa lay dead in the hallway, her eyes rolled back and her dress from the neck down newly colored crimson.

"Good morning, Zehr," Tycon nodded. "To what do I owe this visit?"

"Don't start with me, Tycondrius," Zehr growled. "You completed your quest in the Holy Country. You should have left when you had the chance."

Cass shouted in frustration, stamping her foot on the ground, "Big Brother?! Who in the seven hells is that?! And why does he have the same name as the Snake God?!"

Tycon pursed his lips, slightly amused by his sister's overly serious face.

"Because... he *is* the snake god."

"Cassiopeia, first daughter of Rylania," Zehr growled. "Kill this traitor."

The willful girl stomped over to Tycon, grabbed his shirt collar, and placed a glowing hand against his chest.

Tycon sharpened his gaze, hoping he looked more annoyed than concerned. In his weakened state, he doubted his ability to pry himself free of his sister's grasp. Worse still, Cass was channeling a Second-Circle evocation spell at an intimate range.

He was in a potentially lethal situation.

Cass pointed a finger of her still-glowing hand towards Tycon's cloaked doppelganger, "You pissed off the SNAKE GOD?!?!"

"Apparently," Tycon grimaced.

That much was obvious.

"END HIM!!" Zehr roared, "He is a TRAITOR to our people!"

Cass placed her hand against Tycon's chest once more, "Empty NIGHT! Why?! What reason could you possibly have for betraying us like this?!?"

Tycon shrugged, "The snake god is in league with the dragons."

Cass' eyes widened in shock, "Dragons?! Don't!! EXIST!!!"

She abruptly turned her hand back to Zehr, "⌈Rending Cyclone!!⌋"

A terrific burst of cutting winds forced the doppelganger to cross his arms in front of him, barely able to stand his ground.

"Run, Big Brother!!" Cass shoved him away, towards the balcony.

Tycon smoothed out the wrinkles on his shirt and placed a hand on his sword, "I don't feel like it."

Cass undimmed her vision, glaring hatefully, "I'm a mana-construct, Brother. I can't ⌈Message⌋ Mom. I can't contact any of my lieutenants. I can't remember what I had for breakfast or the name of my best friend."

"It's Suka," Tycon offered. "Curly black hair. Red eyes?"

...Also, her favorite breakfast food was runny eggs, topped with chives, and atop flatbread.

"GO!!" Cass shouted.

She waved her opposite hand, blasting Tycon with a chantless gust of wind... and he promptly tripped over the balcony's metal railing.

Sighing in his heart, he curled his body inward and allowed himself to rotate as he fell. He landed on one of the flat-roofed buildings, rolling with the momentum.

He felt somewhat guilty for leaving his sister to fight with an actual god... but she insisted. Anyroad, he was relatively useless in his current state.

« System, inquiry: Status of the brute-force protocol. »

⟬ System response: 79.6 quadrillion sequences checked... ⟭

...and he'd be useless for a while longer.

In his memories from ages past... he and his sister would evade their guards and their lessons, relaxing all sun on the pebbled beaches. They'd run the alleyways, stealing food and trinkets from their citizens. They'd escape by climbing walls and running the rooftops.

It seemed that his body was still familiar with the movements, and he vaulted across the buildings of Charm with ease and alacrity.

He ran. He leapt from rooftop to rooftop. The fake sun disappeared and the sky took on a shade of black and green.

He continued to run.

A massive white snake burst out from roofing in his path, battering him with the red tiles. The exceedingly handsome creature lunged at him, faster than a normal human could blink.

Tycon threw himself to the side, rolling and sliding downward... then leaping to the next roof.

The snake sprung across the distance, landing a short distance away... and dissipated into mana dust, leaving behind the humanoid Zehr.

"I'm a god, Tycondriusss," Zehr hissed, drawing his arming sword. "You can'ttt run from me."

Tycon took a deep breath as he drew his sister's sword. He'd literally been running for the past several minutes.

A spatter of blood-stained Zehr's face and white cloak... probably belonging to Cass. Even though all he'd done was kill a mere mana-construct...

--seeing the result of violence on his dear sister made him want to kill a god.

"You seem upset," Tycon teased, mentally weighing his possible avenues of attack.

"SSSSEVEN HELLS, YES, I'm upset, you in-ssssufferable mortal!!" Zehr screamed.

"I've murdered a few of your cultists before? That Saltspray pirate... that Warlock in Silva..."

"TWO! You killed two! In Caeruleum, you engineered the death of THOUSANDSSSS!!!"

Tycon scoffed as he began to circle clockwise, his weapon pointed forward, "You threw your lot in with the dragons, you worthless god."

Zehr stepped forward and swung his weapon wide-- an attack easy enough to dodge.

Tycon counterattacked-- which Zehr deflected effortlessly. Tycon tried to cut his opponent's sword-arm, but his doppelganger pulled back and hopped away.

"Do you have any idea how impossible it is to maintain neutrality, Tycondrius?" Zehr groaned. "I did what I had to do."

"Our people don't deal peaceably with dragons, Zehr," Tycon spat. "It's in our gods-damned bloodline memories!"

"The dragons made this world," Zehr shrugged indifferently. "It is inevitable they take it back."

He pursed his lips, gesturing with his hand... "I advise you... operate on intelligent rationale over ancestral knowledge."

Tycon frowned. It was sound advice... but it implied that being born a certain way made him stupid.

The concept annoyed him greatly.