Tycondrius rested his elbow over his opposite wrist and spun his finger.
"The fault, Krysaos... is yours.
"You killed the sea god.
"And then... you absorbed divine powers you had no business absorbing."
Tycon shoved his open palms towards the incredulous human.
"Therefore, you... O' Captain, my Captain, must suffer the aftermath."
"Well..." Krysaos sniffed... "I didn't do it on purpose!!"
Wroe crouched down by the corpse on the deck.
"Most gods don't grow holes in their foreheads on their own-- not including mine, I mean."
What? Tycon squinted his eyes at his Hexblade.
Krysaos frowned, "Okay, so maybe I *did* kill him on purpose... but c'MON!! That guy was a prick!!"
"That point," Tycon steepled his fingers, "was *never* in contention. The death of the sea god was the *objective* of our quest here."
pαndα noνɐ1,сoМ Did he forget? ...It had certainly been an action-packed sun.
"The sea god didn't even put up a f*cking FIGHT!!" Krysaos cried.
He kicked the lifeless corpse in the side-- as if to prove a point.
Whatever point he was trying to make... was lost on Tycon.
Regardless... Krysaos was still *wrong.*
"Earlier..." Tycon crossed his arms, "there was a compact hurricane centered on this crassly-named ship. A hurricane, Krysaos-- a natural disaster, its violent winds capable of loss of life on the scale of thousands."
Wroe stood up, stretching his long arms and legs, "There's holes in the deck like... someone used some big-beef magic... Fourth Circle? Higher?"
Tycon splayed out his fingers, " F i f t h . "
"Y-yeah..." Krysaos coughed, "Th-that's true."
Not yet finished, Tycon continued.
"On our way, Wroe and I encountered a moderate amount of resistance," He explained. "Sahuagin forces... elites, based on their Metal-Rank physiques and combat prowess."
"Their armor and weaponry were nothing special, though," Wroe shrugged. "We expected... well-- something... more god-weapon-y."
"RIGHT??!" Krysaos' gaze brightened.
He looked upon Wroe as if the daeva was his savior.
Tycon sought to break the illusion. At that point, he did so because he was frustrated-- not because he needed to.
"I recall..." He tapped his chin, "that Hades, god of death and the dead, along with our Coral Boy companions raided several of the sea god's armories."
"...Y-yeah. That happened," Krysaos looked away as he scratched his cheek.
"Oh, and there were these huge Crystal Golems!" Wroe exclaimed.
"There were three," Tycon shifted his weight and rotated his right shoulder. "It was not easy... but the Shatterspike Longsword can cut through at least that much."
Krysaos took a breath in through his nose, "So you guys took care of the small fry... and there weren't any... *really* nasty monsters?"
Did that man not consider a Crystal Golem a... *nasty monster*?
How ridiculous...
As calm as he could, Tycon went on through clenched teeth.
"Various measures were taken towards dismantling the sea god's regime," He growled. "We, after gaining strength, struck down that which-- by our efforts, was crippled. Is. that. not. enough??"
"I killed a GOD!!" Krysaos yelped, "And it was EASY!!! I mean-- where was his MIN-I-ONS?!"
"Boss and I killed like... a hundred of 'em, though?" Wroe pouted.
"The GOOD ones!!" Krysaos insisted.
"Already dead!!" Tycon snapped, "The coastal village of Thorne!! There, you slaughtered hundreds of human/sea-creature hybrids-- disgusting monstrosities, in an assault *you* led, Krysaos!"
"Ah," Krysaos' gaze drifted upward, "Yeah... I did that."
"And regardless of the size and strength of the sea god's forces," Tycon shook his head... "a blithering idiot absorbed the raw mana of a Divine Guardian Beast earlier-- This. Very. Sun."
"Huh?" Wroe raised his eyebrows, "That sounds pretty dangerous. But... kinda awesome. Ohhh... does that mean Krysaos is Dragon-R--?"
"Sky-Rank," Tycon stated in a firm voice. "With the limiter seal inscribed on his mana core, Krysaos is an Adamantine-Rank Martial Class. When he reaches God-Rank, the seal will dissolve on its own."
"Alright! Alright." Krysaos raised his voice, "I get it."
The man looked far too proud for a party having been disproven.
...but Tycon was finished arguing. He would never be a match for the thick-skinned Captain Krysaos.
Wroe poked at the sea god's corpse, "So all that Divine Power, Cap'n... and you put it through the sea god's head?"
"Well... no," Krysaos bit his upper lip.
"The Captain *also* had a hextech pistol," Tycon sighed, "a god-artifact gifted from the sea god himself... along with a single god-artifact bullet."
Wroe stood up, scratching the back of his head, "It sounds like... it would've been *more* surprising if you *didn't* kill the sea god."
"Y...eah, I see that now," Krysaos sighed... "Well, boys... Uh... mission complete, yeah? I'm just gonna grab the sea god's spear and let's head back? I got a girl to save."
"You're not touching the spear, Krysaos," Tycon scolded. "You'll explode. "
"Aww," The Captain groaned, "Fine. I like my own sword better, anyroad."
Suddenly, a reverberant peal of thunder shook the ground. The noise rang at the base of Tycon's skull.
...Narrowing his eyes, he turned to Krysaos, "Are you to blame for that?"
"Whoever smelt it dealt it, guy," The Captain shrugged.
Tycon's glare intensified... but not enough to activate a life-threatening offensive Skill.
He very much wanted to... but the mana would be a waste. He was fairly certain his ⌈Vexing Gaze⌋ was ineffective against Sky-Rank recipients.
Wroe cleared his throat, "Wasn't me, either, Boss. Actually... I... don't remember eating *anything* for over a moon!"
...Tycon flicked his wrist to activate his spatial ring. Then, he casually tossed the portion of preserved meats to Tarquin Wroe.
"Take this to a corner of the ship and remain quiet until we leave."
Wroe caught the package, the smile on his face unbroken, "I feel like I should be insulted-- but that's... fair."
Another loud crack of thunder rolled over the beach.
The smell of metal pervaded the air... while static electricity pulled at the loose threads of Tycon's military coat.
Another flash of light hit the nearby sands. Once gone, in its place was a platform of naturally-formed glass... and a robed orc the size of a small house.
That one, Tycon recognized.
Hades, god of death and the dead-- with his assistance, returning to the Realm of the living would take minutes as opposed to suns or weeks.
However, beside him was another humanoid... a comparatively... regular-looking fellow.
Tycon narrowed his eyes to thin squints.
For the first time in a long while... he had zero idea of who that person was.
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