Headed by a Snake

The boy tried to refuse a bath.

However, he was unaware that Tycondrius had been gifted with the essence of a Sea Serpent.

Thus, the boy was stripped naked and hosed down for several minutes with ⌈Bubble Beam⌋.

Noncompliance was much more difficult when breathing was a greater priority.

After Pale's hygiene issues were resolved, the next order of business was to properly equip him for the challenges ahead.

He knew better than to refuse a second time.

Pale looked quite dashing in the clean, dark metal, and especially so after his hair was cut to military regulations.

"Wow!" the boy exclaimed, "This feels a lot stronger than my Ultima Armor! Thank you, Sir!"

"It is," Tycon nodded. "And I'm glad you find it to your liking."

Tycon recalled that Pale had emerged from the ⌈Gate⌋, wearing a piecemeal armor set of mostly chitinous parts.

"Hm. Your previous armor set-- had it been destroyed?"

"Yeah, kinda," Pale said, scratching his head.

"Don't do that. And stand up straight."

"S-sorry," Pale smiled bashfully, "My armor wasn't technically destroyed. Every time a piece broke, I replaced it with materials we found."

"Ah. Very well," Tycon nodded. "I applaud your resourcefulness-- but, as previously stated, this armor is better."

At the very least, the boy looked the part of a Hero-- suitable for the next leader of Sol Invictus.

Prior, he looked more like a wandering vagrant.

He'd grown strong and tall enough to wear a customized set of full plate armor, the joints carefully engineered to allow him full range of movement.

"Sorina recently acquired a mercenary guild called the Red Capes," Tycon explained. "The suit is an Arcanite alloy modification of what their Gold-Ranking members utilize in the field."

"But I don't have a cape?" the slightly-deeper-voiced Pale remarked, "And my tunic is... blue?"

"The Capulet girl insisted that blue was your... motif?" Tycon replied.

"But my favorite color is green, though?"

Tycon pursed his lips to the side. His favorite color was also green.

Yet the boy's previous armor set was blue...

Hm. As a potential explanation, that particular blue also matched the favored color of the Holy Country.

It was an odd oversight, but ultimately not important enough to mind.

Tycon continued to brief Pale on his armor's enchantments.

The half-helmet was enchanted by Vralkek's Gnoll Deathspeakers to improve his perception and sight beyond sight.

Charm's Wind Mages scribed weight-decreasing enchantments on the material and lined the joints with noise-suppression scripts.

The Shadow Snakes' enchantment on Pale's leg guards was designed to boost the magical stability and range of his ⌈Misty Step⌋ Movement Technique.

The right armguard had a Witch-designed Spell Formation set to activate upon and improve the efficacy of Pale's ⌈Mana Ward⌋. Because of the boy's natural affinity for fire magic, the young Coraline Heartsong was able to add some particularly creative optimizations.

"--wait, Boss, did you say 'Coraline'?" Pale asked.

"Yes, unless she's changed her name to spite me."

Pale's eyes widened, "Isn't that the name of Lone's girlfriend? She's real? Is she here?"

"The Lone Shadowdark is dead," Tycon waved, "Now stop interrupting. This is important."

"Wait, what? He is?"

The boy's left gauntlet, an interesting magical artifact called a Whitefire Claw, was reviewed by a particularly exuberant Orc Shugenja. It was repaired and its arrays were fine-tuned to better match Pale's mana signature.

"And finally, responsible for the protective elements on your chestplate," Tycon smiled, "you can thank the goddess of magic, herself."

Bella Sapphira, literal god-Witch, dismounted her broom, descending with an application of the ⌈Featherfall⌋ Spell.

It was rather extravagant, considering she was only two fulms off the floor.

The woman radiated a cool, white light, illuminating the otherwise dark and dismal setting of Making's underground.

"It's weird," Bella remarked. "He looks just like his dad, but, like... not as punch-able, y'know?"

Tycon gently nudged Pale forward, "I doubt you two have met before. Lady Sapphira, this is Pale, this generation's Hero."

⟬ Pale, Adamatine-Rank Half-Elven Spear Hero. ⟭

"B...bella?" Pale gasped, wide-eyed and staring, "of... S-sol Invictus?"

"Bella Badass, in the flesh," the Witch smirked, "Sup?"

Pale continued to gawk.

--which Tycon found quite odd.

"Yo, Boss," Bell said as she adjusted her glasses, "has this kid never seen a girl before? I thought all Heroes were womanizing normies."

"No comment," Tycon waved.

"Ex... excuse me," Pale mumbled. "Miss Bella..."

"What's up, kid?"

"Are... you my mom?"

Tycon physically recoiled from the notion.

And Bella...

First, she was stunned into silence.

Then...

Then, Bella began to laugh.

She clutched at her belly and crouched down.

She laughed... and laughed...

And with every wheezing breath, Pale's expression fell more and more... until Tycon was certain the boy was absolutely miserable.

Admittedly, the young man's logic was easy to follow.

There were two females in his father's Sol Invictus.

Lulu... was rather inhuman.

Thus, the boy surmised that Bella might have been his mother.

Unfortunately, that was impossible. Bella was a Witch... and despite her human appearance, her bloodline and physique rendered her incapable of bearing children.

"No... haha," Bella said, wiping tears from the corners of her eyes, "I'm not your mom. Just... wow... the audacity of this kid--"

"Ahem," Tycon cleared his throat. "That's enough, Miss Bella."

"I'm a Witch, kid-- and being a Witch comes with a certain reputation," Bella told Pale with a grin. "We're known for roasting men over coals or turning them into frogs or cursing their weiners to fall off. No guy would ever dare touch me-- especially your dad."

"But... Boss is touching you right now?"

Tycon's eyes widened in shock.

Pale only called one person Boss-- and it was him.

Looking down, he found he'd subconsciously placed his palm on Bella's shoulder-- likely when he was trying to calm her down.

He immediately closed his eyes to concentrate. In his mind, he began scribing a multi-layered ⌈Mana Ward⌋. His newest design included three separate layers protecting his crotch area.

He feared the worst.

He took solace in the fact that he had access to both healers from Vralkek and Charm. Perhaps he wouldn't have to live the rest of his life impotent...

"That's because I let him."

Eh?

When Tycon opened his eyes, Bella was already walking away. The end of her oversized hat flopped about, matching her gait.

The Witch waved her arm without turning back.

"Good luck, Hero," she said. "I hope you're as good as the other gods think you are."

Tycon bit his lower lip, still wary of the potential for excessive violence upon his person.

Yet, even after several moments, none came.

--no near-lethal offensive Spell.

--not even a biting remark.

He was... safe?

"Is she really a goddess?" Pale asked.

"She most definitely is," Tycon nodded. "Are you ready to go, young man?"

"Y-yeah, I'm ready," Pale nodded.

Tycon tilted his head, "Hm?"

"Yes, Sir!" Pale said, raising his voice. He pounded his fist upon his armored chest in salute. "Pale, First Spear of Sol Invictus, ready and awaiting orders!"

The young gentleman wore a brilliant grin.

Tycon generally preferred a staunch and solemn look to signify one being prepared for coming tribulations.

However... he was in the company of Pale, the son of his father.

It would do.

"Most excellent, Master Pale," Tycon nodded in satisfaction.

"Uhh-- Sir? Question."

Tycon's sense of satisfaction quickly abated, "Go ahead?"

"With... all due respect, are *you* ready?"

A strange question-- but permissible, considering the circumstances.

"Err... I am, for the most part. I have one more task to accomplish before we depart."

"Is that task... getting... armor?"

Tycon absentmindedly looked down, inspecting his attire.

He wore a comfortable, yet sturdy, bleached and belted tunic. It was decorated with vertical stripes on his shoulders, detailing some of his titles and achievements.

His loyal attendant, Atusa, tailored it as a gift-- and that was even before he deactivated her ⌈Slave Brand⌋.

Atop his tunic was a dark green sash, lined with runic script in golden thread. Its enchantments would serve to protect him from the extreme temperatures of the Outer Planes.

Also, he wore his favorite sword, Mercy, on his hip; as well as a pair of sandals, the material enchanted both for comfort and resilience.

Tycon looked to Pale, "No? This is what I'll be wearing for our journey."

"Shouldn't you be wearing Arcanite too?" the boy asked, "Where... is your Letalis Armor?"

"I lent it to Edge. He's pretending to be me while fighting on the eastern front."

"Isn't Mister Edge Iron-Rank? That sounds... kinda dangerous, don't you think, Boss?"

"It is," Tycon answered honestly.

"What about the armor I saw you wearing the other sun?" Pale asked.

"It's in my spatial ring," Tycon replied. "Why... do you ask?"

"You're... going to be wearing just that, going to the Plane of Fire?"

"...Yes?"

Pale pursed his lips, "Huh. Okay. What did you need to do, Boss?"

Tycon was somewhat curious about the boy's questioning, but ultimately decided it was of little importance.

"I need to speak to a certain Princess," he said.

"So let's go and find her?" Pale suggested.

"No need," Tycon smirked. "I believe she has come to find us."