Headed by a Snake

Eight snakes coalesced in front of Tycon, each of them nearly the size of himself in his snake form-- all of them together dwarfing the Snake Cult Guardian. Glowing a harsh white, they surged forward, biting and snapping.

These were vipers.

It was slightly annoying that he had to yell the skill's name in a foreign language to achieve such a powerful effect... As he had not perfectly mastered the ⌈Taste the Hydra Blade⌋ art enough to achieve its full power without a chant, he preferred being effective at the cost of being overly dramatic.

"So... cool..." Athena peered out of the brush with wide eyes, "Are those... d-dragons?"

"Psh, no," Lone answered before anyone else could. "Dragons don't exist... um... milady."

The ethereal vipers crashed into the Guardian, sinking fangs into the woman's 'flesh' and stifling her charge. She grabbed at them, making futile efforts to pull them off, all while screaming as if she was actually a human.

She did not make much progress.

As the duration of the snakes would only last several more seconds, Tycon dashed forward, the enchantment on his boots increasing his speed despite wearing his thick armor. He ran up a nearby sacrifice-stone, bounding off and swinging his sword at the construct's face, "⌈Shadowfang Strike.⌋"

...

Barza Keith, the Lone Shadowdark, watched Tycon jump at the big woman like a veritable badass, slashing at her helmeted head. It cleaved a mark in it... almost like it was made out of clay... which was weird, but also kinda funny.

Maybe the fight wasn't going to be so hard, after all. He was a little worried that they were fighting Adamantine-Rank creatures. He hadn't even met any real Gold-Ranks, much less Adamantine-Ranks.

Sword and mace in hand, Lone rushed forward along with everyone else, screaming as loud as he could. He had to follow everyone else, because... he wasn't sure where he was supposed to be.

Thankfully, everyone else was yelling along with him. He was probably in the right place.

"You're Bronze-Rank, right, Lone?!" Legionnaire Karodin shouted, "I'll protect you with my shield!!"

"Nah!! I'm Iron-Rank!!" Lone yelled back, very proud of himself. "I think!!"

A horn sounded from somewhere... and with a series of loud explosions, the ranged classes opened fire. The big woman reeled back, peppered by bullets, arrows, spears of light, and icicles, among other things. Sergeant Salt and his gunners were the loudest... and appeared to be doing the most damage.

Doubt entered Lone's fragile heart. Maybe he was supposed to be with those guys?

With a loud clang, Boss deflected the big woman's sword-- which was also big, in relation to her size. It struck the ground with a loud crash, dirt and rock flying everywhere.

...Lone wasn't... super-confident that an Iron-Rank like himself would be able to survive that.

"Do you wanna be protectedddd?!!!" Karodin shouted.

"Actually!! Yeah!!! I do!!!"

Suddenly, the thick rusted chains on one of the huge white boulders nearby began to rattle... almost like a snake.

That didn't look good.

Karodin dashed towards it, his shield at the ready... a dozen adventurers at his back.

There was Legionnaire Karodin's group... the uncomfortably attractive Duelist Ptolema's group... and a bunch of other groups led by defensive-classes whose names Lone didn't know.

He decided to trust in Karodin. He seemed like a nice guy. He was probably a lonely, single loser just like he was... It was probably a stupid reason to trust him-- but he'd already decided.

The various links of the chains snapped off, falling to the ground... at which point in time, Lone realized the chains were thicker than his thighs.

His thighs were huge.

Reddish ghostly figures lifted up from the floor, the large chain links transforming and wrapping around them as... smaller chains.

Chain-ception.

Lone could tell they were ghosts because their ribs were splayed open, sticking out of their chests and it looked like their insides were missing.

Clearly ghosts.

Lone breathed a sigh of relief.

They weren't nearly as large as the big woman... and they didn't even have any weapons.

Then they started whipping their chains at Karodin, denting up his shield in a bad way.

They were using their chains as weapons... because, of course they would.

Seven hells. This would be more difficult than he thought... but he'd been through worse.

Lone put on a confident grin and flourished his Dark Iron mace... "Let's do this, Tres Leches."

...

Korr stared at Lone's puppy as it tore out the throat of one of the Crimson Phantoms.

It was cute. She wanted one.

There was a loud noise, which forced her head to tilt forcefully to the side. Something had hit her from her blind spot. It didn't hurt, so it couldn't have been that strong.

...But she really should have been paying more attention.

Turning to face her opponent, Korr saw one of the ghosts. It was a bearded man spewing ectoplasm or... whatever gross stuff it was, out of its mouth.

"Turn awayyyy from the false Flaaaame!!!" It demanded.

Korr pursed her lips... something that no one could see outside of her very handsome helmet.

What was the ghost talking about? She was a Raging Flame Knight. She liked flames (especially raging ones.)

...That made the ghost wrong.

Korr grabbed the ghost by the neck and thrust the Blackblade of Shahram through its belly. Charging it with mana, it burst in a gout of glorious (raging) flames.

The ghost dissipated into mana-slime... or whatever gross stuff that was. Yep. Not strong, at all.

Korr kicked another ghost in the groin, then strangled it with its own chain, "[FLAMES ARE GOOD!]"

Battlecries resounded throughout their group.

"Smite these heretics, for the glory of the ETERNAL FLAME!!!"

"Our FAITH is ETERNAAALLLL!!!"

"FOR THE FLAAAAME!!!"

It was then that Korr remembered that the people of the Holy Country worshipped a literal eternally burning flame.

...That was also probably good.

She liked being part of a group... and these people seemed very nice. Leader associated with them, too, so they could probably be trusted-- for the most part.

She grabbed a ghost by its lower jaw and jammed the side of her blade into its mouth... hacking and sawing away until its head was severed.

The Brazen Guard-people were... really enthusiastic, though, yelling and screaming as they were. It made her want to yell, too... but she was a little shy.

That was fine, though. She was just happy that everyone was enjoying themselves.

Being with adventurers made her feel warm inside.

...Or maybe that was just her fire mana.

Korr walked up to the giant Guardian that Leader was fighting. Since it was time to fight, she had to help too.

She slashed her sword upward, "⌈SOUL SCORCHING BLADE.⌋"

Her attacks had gotten stronger since she became friends with her sword... or the woman that lived inside of her sword? Or was it Shahram who could turn into a sword?

...Could she turn into a sword if she really tried? Eh, no. How would she sleep? Sorina would have to commission a sword-sized bed.

Her soul-scorching blade launched a fiery line of mana that was very hot. It was so hot, she was pretty sure that it actually burned people's souls. Or scorched them, at least.

She asked Shahram about it, once. She was told that if she killed people with that skill, they would be sent to the deepest pits of the seven hells.

That sounded silly, though. Shahram tended to be dramatic about everything.