Headed By A Snake - 193 Never Drop Your Weapon
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193 Never Drop Your Weapon

It had seemed she tapped into the room's Magic Array and used it to trap her Flayed Beast in a cage made from flowing electricity. The ability to disable a magical trap in combat made the woman a genius. Being able to redirect its energy and use it to amplify her own magic made her a monster.

It was just as well. Sol Invictus was made up of monsters.

...and Barza... who was doing an excellent job and Tycon was very proud of him.

Tycon's core thrummed in strain, leaving him gasping for breath. The mana usage of a forced Commander's Strike had left him fatigued. He took a deep breath of the manrich atmosphere, which began to immediately recover his energies.

Though he could rest, he would rather capitalize on his advantage.

« System, force-activate Commander's Strike. Authorized. »

Like a virus, his own mana had already seeped into Levi Wolfrider's. Tycon clenched his fist, exacerbating the mana in the weretouched boy's body.

"GYAHHHHRRRHH!?!" The weretouched boy screamed in agony as if his body was aflame.

With the boy's fatigue, his body sought mana from the environment-- easily attained from the tower's energies. But if he was like a patient desperately seeking a blood transfusion, Tycon was the fraudulent charlatan that, instead of blood, pumped chicken soup and sand into his veins.

The sodding rat deserved it.

Wolfrider's swung his weapon with a flash, the instantaneous movement ending with his halberd slamming down atop the Flayed Beast's skull. Its jaw collided against the laboratory floor, marking the tiles with a web of cracks. He turned and slashed the halberd at the creature's foreleg, promptly rending it from its body. And finally, he thrust the halberd blade's point into the beast's green-flame right eye.

The creature's echoing shriek reverberated throughout the large room but was largely drowned out by Wolfrider's own.

In its painful throes, the Flayed Beast began to exude a thick, green noxious gas.

Poison.

Tycon's manconnection with Wolfrider abruptly halted once more, leaving him lightheaded and briefly unbalanced.

As sorry as a state the Flayed Beast was in, Wolfrider's was worse. The effects of the mana fervor had left the boy fatigued and haggard. His ears drooped and his tongue stuck out of the side of his maw. His white fur was a mess with blood dripping down his eyes, nose, mouth, and ears. And it was obvious to Tycon that the boy had dislocated his left shoulder.

...Worse still was that the beast's poisoned claws had yet to infect his blood.

The boy couldn't take much more.

"LONE!!" Tycon called out.

Two loud explosions rang out as Lone's bullets accurately struck the Flayed Beast's skull and torso.

Tycon scoffed as he saw Lone charge out from his cover.

If Sasha had been attentive, she would have cast a Protection spell on Lone. She had plenty of time to do so. Tycon needed to beat the shyness out of her...

...by using positive reinforcement.

However, the young lady hadn't yet froze up or flinched thus far. That was a point to be lauded. She would grow quickly, adapting to combat and other mercenary activities, traveling in Invictus.

Pointing again at the noxious skin-and-bones creature, Tycon spoke to Wolfrider in a quiet voice, "You're not done, Mister Levi."

The boy's eyes shot up in shock, then turned to anger, then flinched in horror, "B-boss, but... I feel so--"

The boy coughed up a thick wad of blood.

Internal damage.

Frowning at the boy with the blood-stained fur, Tycon sought deep within him... searching meticulously for a reason to care.

He found none.

Tycon continued to speak in slow, measured words. He would not waste the effort in raising his voice for this whelp, "Mister Levi. I. don't. give a d.a.m.n about your feelings."

"Now, since you've disabled the creature's left foreleg..." Tycon turned to Lone, "Pin LEFT!!"

Lone rushed towards the Flayed Beast, running alongside his fiery Dark-Iron Wolf.

"Pin left!!" He confirmed. The summoned creature, Moon-Moon-Moon, slammed its heavy flaming body into the beast's hind left leg.

Taking a deep breath of manfilled air, Tycon pointed his palm at Levi Wolfrider.

"GHRHRKKK!!" The boy's chest heaved up as foreign mana took over his senses once more. He choked blood, marking the walls a deep red, he grit his scarlet teeth and blinked away the tears of pain. He turned and sprinted to the opposite side of the Flayed Beast, then slammed his already-dislocated shoulder into its side.

The creature toppled over, but Wolfrider collapsed to the floor, crying and vomiting blood. The boy was wracked with pain from the stinging fumes, the mana exhaustion, and more than a few of the creature's strikes upon his armor.

The halberd slipped out of the boy's hands.

Tycon saw it fall... slowly... all of his senses sharpened to a razor-thin edge...

It clanged upon the floor, uselessly.

Before Tycon knew it, he had wound up a kick.

What was he doing? Tycon gained cognizance and realized he was about to strike the boy.

Wolfrider dropped his weapon. You don't drop your weapon.

Tycon aimed and delivered the kick solidly to Wolfrider's midsection.

"You know better than to drop your weapon, pup. Now, get the h.e.l.ls up."

"Boss..." Wolfrider groaned.

Tycon closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. When he opened them, Wolfrider had grasped at his halberd and was struggling to stand. Good.

Tycon did not know what he would have done, otherwise. He merely knew he would not have chosen to repeat himself.

"Quickly now, Mister Levi." Tycon turned away from the boy and drew his razor whip, "That is not the best you can do."

[Inspirational Surge conditions met. Activate? Y/N?]

« No, not until he's earned it. »

Tycon lashed his whip out, wrapping around the snapping Flayed Beast's skeletal jaw. Holding tight, he pulled the creature's head down to prevent it from biting into Lone's torso.

Barza Keith, the Lone Shadowdark, transformed his wolf back into a single weapon. Wielding it with both hands, he struck the creature's side with the flaming wolf-hammer, then again upon the base of its spine.

Wolfrider had recovered somewhat. With a telegraphed thrust that was painfully slow, he stabbed his halberd deep into the trapped undead's hide.

The undead creature's green-flame eyes surged with life and it emitted its noxious gas more strongly, forcing Lone to leap back.

The poison was no issue to Tycon, so he concentrated on keeping the beast firmly in place.

It glared at Sasha, the girl who had been doing nothing but casting defensive spells throughout the fight. It struggled to break free from Tycon's hold and rend its claws into the young dark elf.

Tycon scoffed. He would never let that happen.

He drew the Shatterspike from his belt and drove it into the creature's right eye where Wolfrider had struck it earlier. With a tremble and the burst of air like its last breath, the blackened skeleton collapsed...

As its defensive mana began to dissipate, its hanging skin almost immediately lit ablaze from Lone's fiery weapon.

"Do not rest yet, Invictus." Tycon warned, "There is another."