Headed by a Snake

Tycondrius mulled over the situation in his head as he dragged Willow out of vision and earshot-- far from Iyuri's Gold-Rank senses.

If the girl had chosen to join the crew of Neptune's Revenge, he would have accepted her as being indirectly part of his faction.

As she refused... he needed to understand just where her loyalties lied.

He would make a few inquiries of the child. Based on her probable answers, it was very likely that he would kill her.

After he did so, it would be optimal to kill her brother as a precautionary measure.

...Unfortunately, it was unlikely he would.

Tycon prioritized influencing Princess Iyuri positively. If he was questioned for killing Willow, he could grant a simple explanation.

The enemies of Sol Invictus had but a single fate.

The boy, however, was an innocent child, not complicit in his sister's crimes. Iyuri might have become an unwilling pawn of the lizard god, but Sprig had no such connection.

Still... keeping the boy alive would be pain.

Murdering a family member was sure to breed resentment. Depending on the boy's training and vengeful-minded focus over the next dozen or so years, it was not impossible for Sprig to grow strong enough to engineer Tycon's demise.

If Rickert were to join Sol Invictus, his chances of success would grow exponentially. Tycon was a professional... He'd rather train his assassin to be the most lethal weapon in the Realm than a mediocre one.

...Ugh.

Trying to be a positive role model was shite.

If Iyuri didn't develop into a principled young lady, he would beat her.

Regardless... Willow was a transmigrator with a System.

If his goals aligned with his, she would live.

If they were contrary-- or worse, if Tycon determined her to be an agent of the lizard god, she would die. Painfully.

"L-let go of me!" Willow shouted.

It took the child long enough to find her voice.

Tycon flung the girl away and she splashed, face first, into the muddy shallows. Choking and sputtering, she got to her knees, holding onto her bruised and hopefully fractured wrist.

Activating his spatial ring, he summoned his loaded hand crossbow and pointed it at the child's center of mass.

The weapon was designed to pierce light armor. The poison applied to the bolt could incapacitate or kill grown adults. Killing an exhausted child in a ragged, sleeveless shirt should be nigh effortless.

"Keep your fingers where I can see them, girl," Tycon said in a low voice. "If I see or sense even a hint of spellcasting, I will end you with great prejudice."

"I... what-- but--"

Willow began trembling violently, the fear taking hold.

Tycon took great care not to undim his vision. Though highly unlikely, it was still possible he was making a grave mistake. It would be advantageous of him to gain an ally with a System and a highly motivated future combatant.

...However, he would not suffer a potential enemy capable of casting lizard magic.

"Talk, girl."

"I don't-- I don't know what you WANT!!!" Willow shrieked.

Tycon pursed his lips in displeasure. He had failed to account for how high pitched the young girl's voice was. If Iyuri heard her, she and Sprig might come to investigate.

"Tell me," Tycon snarled, "of the song of praise on 'thy' lips."

...Willow's eyes darkened as she looked down at the swampy waters.

"...I... I'm protected."

"That is *not* what I asked," Tycon glared... "dovahkiin."

Willow's eyes opened wide for a brief moment, recognizing the term. She grit her teeth and sat up, covering her chest with her arms.

The girl had a growth of green scales just below her collar.

If was going to deny that-- if she dared to lie, Tycon was going to shoot her.

"Yes..." She whispered... "I know the song... the song of which legends are sung."

The girl looked up defiantly, a droplet of blood trailing down her lower lip, "Yes... I believe in dragons."

Tycon took a deep, haltered breath, gnashing his teeth. The notion of it... it angered him... greatly.

His entire body was shaking-- something that could affect his aim. He tightly gripped the handle of his crossbow, keeping his finger straight and off the trigger... and he willed blood to course through his paling hands.

Willow slowly placed her palms in the mud... and she bowed deeply, cutting her forehead against the rocks, "I'm... I'm sorry. Please... forgive me.

"I refuse."

The loud thunk of Tycon's weapon firing resounded through the quiet swamps.

The girl screamed... but her form was sheathed in a brilliant green light.

...Tycon grimaced.

Had he missed? No-- that was highly improbable.

Lustrous emerald scales covered the child's neck, shoulders, and upper arms.

"...Transformation magic?"

Tycon summoned another poisoned bolt, loaded it, and began winding the crossbow's mechanism.

The child... she crawled towards him, dragging herself forward on her arms.

The poisoned bolt was stuck in the meat of her left bicep... yet she lived.

Humans.

Tycon scoffed and shook his head-- still keeping his attention focused on the crawling wretch.

Some humans could fall off of their beds in the night and break their necks. Yet, he could shoot a human child with a bolt poisoned enough to fell a man thrice her size and she was only moderately inconvenienced.

"I... I can't die here," Willow sobbed.

Tycon took a few vigilant steps backward. He expected a 'final, desperate attack'-- which would allow him to end the girl's life, free of guilt.

"P-please... spare me," The child begged... "My brother-- he... I need to take care of my brother... at least-- at least until he can take care of himself! Then I can die without regrets!"

"Using your brother as a shield? Pathetic." Tycon took another deep breath, tilting his chin down and aiming down his reloaded crossbow's sights, "Renounce your beliefs, Miss Willow."

Willow's sniveling paused momentarily... "I... I can't."

"You can't? Hah!" Tycon laughed, "No, whelpling. You *choose* not to. If you truly care for your brother... I strongly advise you to do as I command."

"I... I just can't!" Willow cried. "I'm sorry... Please... Forgive me."

"No," Tycon rolled his eyes. He hated repeating himself.

If one poisoned bolt wasn't enough, he had no problem using a second, "Now, *if you would*, lay down and d--"

A jolt of pain rocked Tycon's head, staggering him backward. The fired crossbow bolt flew off into the distance.

...He did not see where it had gone, which annoyed him greatly.

« System, what in the seven, gods-DAMNED hells-- »

⟬ The System has rejected an outside connection. ⟭

The child said she was 'protected.'

It was probable that her protector was attempting to summon him-- to whisk him away into a Reality Marble and allow Willow to escape at her leisure.

Though Tycon remained in a sordid mood, he was thankful that he changed his System settings to reject incoming connections by default.

He flicked his wrist, stowing his crossbow and materializing a *third* bolt.

Upon approaching the child, she leapt up towards him, making a pitiful attempt to claw at Tycon's eyes with her small human fingers.

How Willow still had so much strength under the effects of his paralyzing poison was baffling.

He jammed the bolt down towards her left eye-- but she grabbed onto his wrist with both hands, redirecting the attack onto her chest.

In her desperation... she was resisting a gentleman with a Gold-Rank physique.

...Or was she?

Tycon grit his teeth as he realized that what little mana he had was in disarray. The mental attack from earlier... it had interfered with the ability to use his full strength.

Yet in lieu of Gold-Rank mana, he had his rage! His HATRED!!

Tycon smashed his opposite hand onto his clenched fist, the tip of the poisoned bolt piercing into the girl's chest scales.

...Her skin was as hard as metal armor.

Willow was an infuriatingly resilient opponent.

"I... I can't die here," The dovahkiin growled. "Dragons... do exist."

"No. They. Do NOT!!!!" Tycon roared in the child's face.

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

« Activate!! Naught but DEATH awaits the enemies of SOL INVICTUS!!! »

⟬ Activating. Death to the enemies of Invictus. ⟭

A sharp, unceasing pain assailed Tycon's senses. The girl's protector was growing just as desperate.

"I will not be DENIED!!" Tycon seethed, driving the bolt deeper in the girl's chest.

So affected by his Ocular Ability, Willow began to choke-- gasping for air...

But suddenly... her eyes grew clear... her expression, calm.

"I cannot deny who I am..." She whispered, "The heart of a dragon... beats in my chest."

"Shut your gods-damned mouth and DIE," Tycon clenched his teeth, "you. pretentious. WHELPLING!!!!"

The girl's physique strongly resisted her poison... and her faith in lizards had allowed her to resist the effects of his gaze.

He had been a fool in trying to kill Willow silently instead of ending it quickly and violently with his strongest attacks.

"I am the heir," The girl's eyes shone with a harsh light... "of ⌈ASH AND FIRE!!⌋"

Empty f*cking night.

Tycon shut his eyes and crossed his arms defensively in front of his chest. Struck by an invisible force that simultaneously assaulted his hearing, he was launched away, landing with his back hard against the dirt and mud.