"Congratulations, Brother-Athanasius," Tycondrius chuckled.
He was happy for his two young companions. They had a healthy relationship and he was pleased that Tanamar was doing his best at nurturing it.
"There's... uh," Tanamar hesitated. He rubbed the back of his silver-haired head, looking overall uncertain.
"Go ahead," Tycon gestured.
"Something's been bothering me-- us, really... Apparently the Frozen Cairn sect wants her-- us back, after this mission."
"Ah, of course," Tycon nodded. "Standard procedure. Athena is a rare and valuable anomaly. Did you bring reinforcements from the sect, then?"
Tanamar looked off into the distance, gazing wistfully at Caeruleum below.
"...Athanasius," Tycon cleared his throat. "You... must have brought reinforcements."
Still, the silver-haired Holy Lancer kept his silence.
Tycon crossed his arms, "You did not ask."
It wasn't a question. He spoke the words aloud to confirm it.
"I did not," Tanamar replied softly.
"Did they offer?"
"...They did."
"You rejected them."
"...I did."
Tycon sucked in air through his teeth... "You evaded their best attempts to follow you."
Tanamar turned to meet Tycon's gaze, wearing a troubled smile, "Ahh... yeap."
...Tycon forced a smile of his own, breathing deeply through his nostrils.
It wouldn't affect their plans greatly, but... depending on who the Frozen Cairn sect would have sent, Caeruleum might have fallen to their forces alone.
"Athanasius... I recall you mentioning... wishing to achieve every possible advantage?"
"Hey, man," Tanamar raised his palms. "I didn't wanna owe them anything!"
Tycon groaned and stared up into the starry night sky.
The young man's defense was absurd. He and Athena were very much indebted to the Frozen Cairn sect, having received assistance with their cultivation issues, as well as being granted esoteric sect training.
Tanamar summoned one of his holy spears and crouched down, using the weapon to steady himself... "Because of the way Athena got her powers over the course of years... and because of me, I guess-- she's capable of bearing children."
Tycon sighed, but nodded in understanding.
Athena's Yin Body was an artificial one, produced by the well-meaning meddling of her older brother and a mana-emanating artifact he'd stolen. The members of the Frozen Cairn sect, practicing so many Yin Body techniques since childhood would naturally have difficulty to accept non-Yin energies without severe complications.
However...
"You're too young for that..." Tycon glared. "Both of you are."
"Well, yeah," Tanamar laughed, slowly getting back to his feet. "I know that... but... you know, maybe in the future? We've talked about it... and Tycon-- would you be the godparent of--"
"You're too young for that!" Tycon repeated, his voice raised.
"Damn it, Tycon!" Tanamar raised his voice to match. "Just say yes!"
"Fine, fine!" Tycon waved dismissively. "Your child will be under the protection of House Charm."
"Come on, man. Look at me," Tanamar raised his arms to the side. "I wasn't born under any house or whatever. I'm just a Flame-taken footman. I want *your* word-- not the protection of some house I don't know."
Tycon was taken aback... Tanamar had very well known all the resources his name had put into House Vanzano. Coin was far more useful than the loyalty of a single person.
Maybe he was just stupid.
...But it was more likely that there was an emotional reason behind the choice.
"You're a complicated human, you know," Tycon sighed in defeat.
"So are you," Tanamar smirked.
"...Hmph. Very well, I agree," Tycon crossed his arms. "But I implore you once more: no children-- not anytime soon."
"Right," The Holy Lance grinned.
"Anyroad," Tycon pointed out towards the doomed city in the distance, "Does your ability tell us anything about Caeruleum?"
Tanamar, as a transmigrator, had a strange ability that allowed him to predict encountering dangerous individuals. It was one of the secrets behind the Dungeon-clearing power of the Brazen Guard Collective, allowing them to make pointed and effective plans against Gold and Adamantine-Rank threats.
The young man shook his head, "It only works in Dungeons, Tycon. You know that."
"Humor me," Tycon shrugged. "We might be surprised."
"Well, alright..."
Tanamar faced the city. He shut his eyes. He began to concentrate.
A low, pained groan emanated from his lips... "Ah... ahhhh..."
His eyebrows furrowed and his face twisted... Suddenly, he twisted his neck to look away, clutching at his eyes, "HAHH!! ARRRRRRRGHHHH!!!"
Tycon immediately shoved Tanamar to the ground, shocking him out of his trance. The wide-eyed youth rolled on the rocky ground as he convulsed, blood dripping down both of his nostrils.
"Stars and stones!!" Tycon knelt down, shaking him, "Snap out of it, man! ⌈Desire Trigger!!⌋"
⟬ ⌈Desire Trigger⌋ activating... Support ability. Targeted ally is compelled to envision an existing incentive, moderately boosting target's ability to resist detrimental effects. ⟭
It took a few moments for Tanamar to calm himself... regaining the ability to breathe on his own volition... "F... f*ck... that f*cking hurt."
"What... in... the seven hells... did you see?" Tycon grimaced.
Tanamar blinked his eyes, shaking his head, "I... haha... I don't think you'll f*cking believe me."
"Humor me."
...
⟬ Letalis Serpentia Command Tent, some time later... ⟭
Tycon placed his wooden bowl on the edge of the planning table as he reviewed the drawn maps. Over a bell prior, he'd coordinated with the camp cooks to faithfully recreate one of Zenon Skyreaper's favorite meals.
It was a popular noodle dish from Olea Garden.
...Tycon needed to keep busy. He didn't want to think about... certain things.
"This tastes better than usual, Brother-Tycon!" Zenon grinned between bites.
Tycon looked up to smile warmly at his friend, "I certainly hope so. It was a hassle to get everything into my spatial ring for transport-- especially the fresh noodles."
"Yep," Zenon nodded. "But also, there's something about eating Olea Garden that's... nostalgic? Is that the right word for it?"
pαпdα-ňᴏνê|·сóМ "It will do. The journey has been rough..." Tycon raised his winecup, "and it should end tomorrow... in bloody, fiery battle."
"O' Sol Invictus," Zenon chuckled as he raised his own cup, "Sing our name in praise."
The wine was sweet... the feeling of intoxication, welcome.
It was a wonderful distraction from his troubles... the troubles he kept to himself.
The threat of dragonsong was not something regular people needed to worry about.
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