On the fourth sun, Felinus' scouts reported the discovery of the strongest creature in the dungeon, a Dread Wraith. Tycondrius was somewhat familiar with the large undead creature, unlike the other dungeon denizens. 

It was large. Its touch could instantly drain the life force of an adventurer. And it was an Adamantine-Rank threat. 

The quest issued by the Tyrion Adventurer's Guild referred to the creature as the White Lady, which Tycon found to be woefully lacking in creativity. Also, unfortunately, Felinus and Tanamar identified no workarounds that Tycon could take advantage of. 

The Brazen Guard's guild leader, Bannok, limited partic.i.p.ants to Bronze-Rank, high-tier cla.s.ses and stronger. Nearly forty members remained, a rather high number. Many casualties of the Throne Giant were able to be restored to fighting condition, thanks to Priestess Ariadne's healing. Of course, she couldn't bring back the dead... that was the purview of the White Lady. 

Theoretically, their numbers would be enough. 

Within those left over from the screening, Tycon was pleased to see a few familiar faces. 

⟬ Karodin, Iron-Rank Human Legionnaire; Photios, Iron-Rank Human Silver Pyromancer. Guild Brazen Guard. ⟭ 

Photios had gotten along well with Zenon. From it, Zenon had recovered much of his enthusiasm, doing his best to hide his uncertainty. 

Karodin waved like a fool upon seeing Tycon. Hesitantly, Tycon waved back in acknowledgment. The clumsy Legionnaire was almost certain to die in the next combat. It was surprising that he hadn't died in the previous two. 

⟬ Ptolema, Iron-Rank Human Duelist. Guild Snowy Village. ⟭ 

The hooded Duelist stood near Karodin, granting Tycon a nod when their gazes met. That girl was too stubborn to die. If she wasn't already the leader of her own guild, Tycon would have considered scouting her. 

⟬ Athena Vanzano, Bronze-Rank Human Frostblade. Guild Stormbrand. ⟭ 

"Athena," Tycon glared. "Go back."

"Aww... Okay," The young lady sauntered off, somewhat disappointed.

What was she expecting? For her to go unnoticed? Her frost-blue hair stuck out in a crowd as much as Tycon's green. 

There were also a few familiar adventurers loitering amongst the crowd that Tycon was less than pleased to see. 

⟬ Tancred Mors, Iron-Rank Human Reaver; Occam, Iron-Rank Human Cleric. Guild Stormbrand. ⟭ 

Tancred stood around in his multi-colored armor. He was trying to look disinterested in his surroundings, but his vapid stare only betrayed how foolish he appeared. 

Occam roved about, leering at females. Otherwise, he was aggressively posturing in front of the few adventurers obviously a lower metal rank than he was. 

As before, Tycon specifically avoided the company of those people. If they disliked him for it, he was not interested in their opinions. 

Bannok announced that the Brazen Guard collective would engage in battle with the Dread Wraith the following sun at noon. While the dungeon's high mists blocked a majority of the sunlight, it was generally accepted knowledge that it was better to siege the undead with the sun at its highest peak. 

...

A strategy meeting was called at the Brazen Guard command tent consisting of Bannok, Ariadne, and Felinus, as well as himself and Tanamar. 

Tycon had a.s.sumed they were to discuss strategy concerning the Dread Wraith. He was pleasantly surprised to discover it was to share a hot meal and some warm wine. 

"So what's your relations.h.i.+p with the kid, Brother-Tycon?" Bannok asked... "If it's not some secret squirrel s.h.i.+te, anyroad."

The human's cheeks were lightly flushed by the drink. Because of the battle on the morrow, he was insistent on 'holding back' even as he drained half a Tyrion congius[1] of wine. 

Tycon swirled the sweet red wine in his wooden cup, "Circ.u.mstances have dictated that I am to a.s.sist in rebuilding the name of House Vanzano."

"Ah. She's a good girl... and a good leader," Bannok nodded, plunking his empty winecup onto the planning table. "A shame what happened to her house, though..."

"She's the sweetest thing!" Aria grinned as she refilled the winecups of both Tycon and her husband. "Ah made cupcakes once. She stuffed her li'l mouth like a chipmunk."

...Tycon had seen the phenomenon before with the young lady's love for thinly-sliced fried potatoes, topped with sour cream and sharp cheddar. He had scolded her for her impatience and impropriety. 

"How about you, Brother-Bannok?" Tycon raised an eyebrow, "Why continue the adventuring life instead of becoming a landowner with all your military achievements?"

Bannok leaned back and sighed contentedly, "Gotta stay sharp. Without a war going on, adventuring is the best way to prepare for the next one."

Ariadne's eyes drifted over to Hunter Felinus, prompting everyone in the tent to follow her gaze.

"Ahem..." The quiet elf cleared his throat, "The Brazen Guard must continuously complete quests in order to provide for the upkeep of our magical equipment. Mana dust is difficult to come by in large quant.i.ties, otherwise."

"Like Fel says," Bannok followed, "Quests get us coin to keep our gear good. Occasionally, we find a magic weapon or set of armor, too. Our guild's really just about killin' people, if you think about it."

Tycon nodded in understanding. Bannok and the Brazen Guard lived for war. To that end, adventuring was the most logical and effective way to remain a relevant military force. His success was evident in that his guild was the strongest in Kasydon and was able to take high-rank quests with regularity. 

However... a war did exist, even if Bannok stated otherwise. It was waged silently within his Holy Country of Tyrion. The Snake Cult seemed to have infiltrated deep within the ranks of the Church of the Eternal Flame. He was fairly certain that Bannok was intimately aware of it... as he expressed a sense of guilt that he did not remain in the military proper. 

It was for the best. The Weaponmaster had implied that he partic.i.p.ated in the war ma.s.sacres in the Free Nation. Villages and entire cities were quarantined and put to the torch to combat the spread of a highly contagious lycanthrope. As a high-ranked Centurion, Bannok had undoubtedly made many difficult decisions during that time. 

With any large-scale engagement, unfortunate casualties were commonplace. While the death of innocent men and women was never acceptable... for a man so loyal to his country, fighting against his kinsmen was a nightmare that Bannok had to avoid at all costs. 

Ariadne hummed musically... as elves were wont to do, "An' look at us now... we're in the hills, cold 'nough to freeze a t.i.t off a frog, huntin' poltergeists."

"It's a wraith, sapling," Felinus corrected her.

The dark elf Priestess placed her hands on her hips and stuck her tongue out, "How 'bout we call a spade a shovel, Fel!?" 

Tycon paused, thinking about the incredulity of his own situation. In the span of a few moons, he had gone from convincing dwarves and a gorgon idiot to fight on his behalf... to sending his daughter to school... to freezing like a... frog in the mountains. And now, he was fully intent on defeating an Adamantine-Rank Dread Wraith. 

[1] A Tyrion measurement equivalent to 3.27 liters.

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