647: The Neptunia

The Neptunia

The lizardolich's existence was the origin of the deathly fog that blanketed the island. With the creature defeated, its heart rended to scraps, and its skull turned to powder, Captain Krysaos no longer suffered obvious ill effects. 0

However, the undead denizens of the isle remained. Even without its master, the magic suffused in the environment would continue to reanimate the dead. 

...and unless they found a way off, Krysaos would join their ranks within the week. 

Throughout the next bell, Tycondrius followed Captain Krysaos and Ishmael to the beaches opposite of where they landed. With every undead being encountered, Tycon chose not to participate in combat directly, but would activate his support Skills to reduce the likelihood of his companion's injury or death. 

Earlier, he had enlisted the two's assistance to bind his arm. It draped from his neck with linen cloth and was wrapped snugly to counter the swelling. 

So inconvenienced, Tycon was not easily able to utilize his strongest martial Skills, the curved blade techniques of the Screaming Silence. 

He could still fight if he wished. His combat power was similar to an Iron-Rank... However, it remained uncomfortable to move normally-- and would be much more so, to swing a steel blade. 

He decided that, as he convalesced, he would concentrate on honing his non-combat Skills... particularly his ocular and support abilities. 

After so many snaps of his fingers and subsequent ⌈Commander's Strike⌋ executions, Krysaos finally realized that his abilities were boosted greatly by Tycon's presence.

The man was intelligent enough about most things... but he had an amazing ability to overestimate his own expertise. 

"Ooh!!" Krysaos squeaked excitedly-- a sound too high-pitched in contrast to his usually deep voice, "That ship looks decent!"

"The crew of that ship look... lively," Tycon remarked. 

"Yeah, but the SHIP!!" Krysaos moaned... almost erotically, "Look at where it's anchored."

Tycon pursed his lips, "You mean how its hull rests on the sands?" 

"Yeah, but it's LOW TIDE right now!" Krysaos raised his nose smugly, "Good chances that that thing'll float! And if it floats, it sails!"

...Though Tycon wasn't exactly certain that Krysaos was speaking sensibly concerning the tides, the man's optimism was infectious. 

The corvette-class ship flying the flag of the Kingdom was beached upon the shallows, and it was... swarming with combatants. The crew fought bravely against a horde of undead, in particular, against zombified Titanblood sailors with long, scraggly beards and putrefied green skin. 

The crew themselves were also... not quite human. They were... for want of a better term, stone-men. Interestingly, their faces and unarmored portions of their bodies looked to be made of porous, rock-like material. 

They looked more like... sentient golems-- a project of a mad wizard, rather than species of the Realm. 

Krysaos led his two loyal crew members up a rocky hill to get a better vantage point before holding a flat palm over his eyes and squinting in the distance... 

"I can almost make out the ship name from here!"

"It's... the Neptunia," Tycon answered. 

Krysaos placed his hands on his hips and furrowed his brows, "You got pretty good eyesight for a snake, don'tcha? Aren't snakes supposed to be shite at that?"

"I am a Maedar, Brother-Captain. I have no such weaknesses," Tycon answered with a smirk. "As an Aquatic Human, should I be surprised you do not asphyxiate above water?"

"Your point sucks, but I think I get'cha," Krysaos shrugged. "The Neptune, you said?"

"The Neptunia, Captain."

"Ehh... Sounds weeb," Krysaos snorted. "I don't like it."

"You can rename the ship after we take it over," Tycon offered politely.

"Yeah..." Krysaos nodded. "Oh! I just had a great idea! I'm gonna rename the ship after we take it over!!" 

...Tycon shared a dubious look with Ishmael... who gave a noncommittal shrug in response.

Quietly sighing to himself, Tycon observed the battle in the distance.

...Everything about it was worse than he'd hoped. 

The stone-men fought the Titanbloods on the beach... with the ship in relative safety. 

However, the ship's top deck was in disrepair. Few of its side railings remained unbroken and the sails were heavily patched with various materials. 

There were a total of two cannons above deck-- one obviously defunct, the other with one stone-fellow staring into its barrel while simultaneously trying to light the fuse. 

It didn't look like a regular ship from a regular Kingdom fleet. 

...It looked like a ship from the Kingdom's Sea Wolf Marine Fleet, their most destitute military branch. 

The Titanbloods hailed from the Free Nation... and were fighting with military arms and armors. 

However, the stone-men fought wearing piecemeal armor and wielded a variety of weapons. Tycon saw Sleeping Country furs, a chainmail shirt with Kingdom colors, an Eastern States' knight helmet, and a Holy Country legionnaire shield... all on a single combatant. 

"How... long have they been fighting?" Tycon asked aloud. 

"However long it's been," Krysaos grinned. "Let's make sure it ends."

...

"Nevermind," Krysaos grimaced. "This'll go on forever."

Tycon, Krysaos, and Ishmael stood surrounded by the melee of near two-dozen stone-men and nearly double their number in Titanbloods. 

Both sides ignored them completely. 

Though Tycon had not noticed earlier... the stone-men were quite tall, each of them of similar height to the seven-to-eight fulm tall Titanbloods they fought against. 

The beach was littered with weapons and fallen undead from the various nations. 

"Coral Boys..." Krysaos muttered, "Heard of 'em. Never seen 'em before, though."

"Coral... Boys?" Tycon raised an eyebrow. 

"Yeah, they're called Korallions-- or uh... Corallidae," The Captain shrugged. "No one calls 'em that, though. They're just Coral Boys."

"Hey you!" He shouted at the closest one, "Who's in charge here?!"

One of the... Coral Boys-- a brightly-colored, lime-green fellow, whipped his head around at a particularly hazardous moment, "Whazzat?!"

The lapse in concentration resulted in a Titanblood zombie's warhammer clunking the stone gentleman in the temple. The Coral Boy's head twisted to the side as he fell. His neck-- if he had one, was certainly broken. 

Tycon looked to Krysaos and smiled half-heartedly, "I pray it wasn't that one."

pqdm.com