269: Unique Helmet

Unique Helmet

Tycondrius took Fortuna's dagger at her waist. Flipping her body over, he thrust it into her heart. He did not wish to risk her mounting a final act of heroic resistance. 1

He vaulted out from cover, rushing out, drawing his swords. The remaining Rhodoks would have no reason to doubt him. There was blood on his hands, but none on his blades-- and no one had the eyes to notice it in the darkness, save the dead half-elf.

The Titan Snake, Isidor, was engaged in combat with Decanus Justus and Optio Sixtus. He was a friend-- and certainly not a dragon.

Sasarame's ⌈Obscuring Cloud⌋ spell allowed him to strike and quickly retreat the upper length of his large, ungainly body back into cover. She was also a friend-- part of Sol Invictus. Her true form was a snake and Tycon was very proud of her.

Cyrac raised an arm towards the running Tycon, his eyes wide and frantic. The white-bearded man was kneeling down, his arms trembling and his body sporadically spasming.

That would be from the effects of Isidor's ⌈Paralytic Gaze⌋ skill. It was somewhat weaker than his own ocular skill, so he was surprised that the Iron-Rank Fighter fell prey to it. Tycon surmised that the human's advanced age may have been to blame.

Tycon skidded to a halt, kneeling down beside Cyrac, "Centurion, I'm here. What of the others?"

"I-I can't-- move... my BODY," Cyrac clenched his teeth, growling low. It seemed he was struggling even to talk. "The others... THey had-- no... chANce. Para-- LYzed."

Tycon nodded in understanding, "That's a shame."

"Go back... Report... Failed," Cyrac managed.

Oh, that's right. Cyrac still thought he was a Bronze-Rank warrior. Niiice.

"How can I prove such a thing to the Rhodoks? Make them trust me?"

With a shaking hand, the Centurion violently tore off the buckle on his helmet. The meaning was clear. The Primus Pilus' helmet would suffice as proof of legitimacy. Tycon took it gently off the old human's head, placing it behind him to avoid getting blood on it.

"Flame-taken... Snnn--NAKE..." Cyrac groaned, fury in his eyes.

Of course, he'd be angry. All he could do in his condition was watch helplessly as his allies were killed.

"Always... hated... tHeMM.... Errrgh.."

Tycon chuckled to himself. That was a very poor choice of words. He lifted up his helmet's visor.

Medusae were able to develop the ⌈Petrifying Gaze⌋ Ocular skill. In order to not petrify their allies, their young, and themselves when looking at their reflections, they trained to "dim" their vision, effectively turning the passive ability on and off, at will. Tycon, as a male Medusa-- a Maedar as the terminology went, had the same capability for his own Ocular skill.

"Thank you, Centurion." Tycon smiled and patted the one-eyed man's shoulder like he would an old friend, "I'll tell them you died honorably."

⟬ ⌈Vexing Gaze⌋ conditions met. Activate? Y/N? ⟭

The System's prompt filled his heart with a nostalgic warmth.

« Yes, please. Activate. Death to the enemies of Invictus. »

⟬ Activating. Death to the enemies of Invictus. ⟭

Tycon felt the mana circulating behind his face, concentrating in his eyes. He felt the strange sensation of his pupils... twisting and elongating. He knew that when he undimmed his vision, his pupils thinned to reptilian slits.

The Centurion's pupils dilated and shook, staring into the face of what had been his enemy all along. He struggled to move, to turn away.

Resilient old fool.

Tycon placed his swords on the ground and ungently grabbed the sides of the old man's head. .

He wondered if it looked similar to how a gentleman would gaze into a lover's eyes. That would be embarrassing. He did not think the aged human was attractive.

"Centurion, what's wrong?" Tycon asked aloud, "Is the snake's gaze attack affecting you?"

He was referring to himself, but hoped the answer was yes to either Ocular skill.

Cyrac's body began to shake and tremble violently. He couldn't breathe. But was it from the paralysis or his own skill?

Dark blood began to spill from his mouth, dribbling down his beard and spilling onto his armor and splashing a bit onto his own.

Ah, it was his own skill.

Nice.

Finally, the Centurion's body grew stiff and he collapsed. The old man offered no last words to alert his Rhodoks to Tycon's treachery. Was he trying to? Either way, he didn't do a very good job.

"Centurion, NOOOO!!!!" Justus loosed a blood-curdling scream. The young man had been having a terrible time, watching all of his loved ones die.

"Die, you Flame-scarred SNAAAAKE!!!" The red-haired Decanus resumed his clumsy, yet spirited onslaught of attacks. They bounced off of his enemy's hide-- because he is an idiot and seemed to have forgotten that he has a skill specifically developed for piercing through Isidor's armor-like scales.

Optio Sixtus readied one of his pila, and as the Titan Snake burst through the fog, he threw it at one of his eyes. It missed-- though Tycon doubted it would have dealt any damage. Every part of Isidor's body was empowered by his natural Gold-Rank mana.

"Flame take this beast!" Sixtus roared, drawing his sword once more. "Zehr!!! Come help!!!"

Tycon again dimmed his vision and pulled his visor back down. He picked up his swords, standing and turning towards the fight, "Yes, Optio!!!"

He sprinted towards them-- watching as, in his rage, Optio Sixtus plowed a mana-powered shield bash into the side of Isidor's head, accompanied by a loud 'wank' sound.

Hah.

Isidor was in no danger of being defeated, but Tycon found it humorous seeing the Titan Snake take a thump to the head.

Champion Sixtus was a resilient and tenacious combatant. Seeing that he was unphased by Isidor's paralysis, he opted not to utilize his own skill on him. Besides, it allowed him to not strain his eyes. Doing so resulted in a sharp headache, afterward.

Holy Avenger Justus wasn't doing nearly as well. His sword wasn't even glowing.

Seven hells, did he even know how to use his ⌈Avenger's Oath⌋? The young man had class-changed only a few suns prior and he'd spent his time grieving instead of honing his skills... Tycon inwardly sighed, realizing that Justus was likely unaware of his own potential.

That's. Too. Bad.

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