Headed by a Snake

Tycondrius stared up at the Dread Mage, struggling in mid-air.

With a wave of Zenon Skyreaper's hand, the ghostly human rocketed skyward towards the tall Dungeon ceiling.

High above, the silver-haired Holy Lancer, Tanamar, hovered on wings of light... He rotated his body, increasing in rotational speed, spinning like... a top. The mage collided with the whirling blur, struck in the shoulder by the footman's holy lance. He spiraled back downward at a sharp angle, the velocity no less than a moment prior.

Tycon sighed internally, changing his direction... trying to judge where exactly the mage would land. If the fellow wasn't already dead, then he'd finish him off with a slash of his Sword of Venom.

"I GOT IT!!!" Sorina Capulet yelled.

With absolutely reckless abandon, the drill-haired girl weaved through dozens of Ghost Warriors... through the Shadow Snakes' hail of magical bolts, and into the loud and treacherous storm of gunfire from Salt and his squad.

Tycon.

S C R E A M E D .

"SORINA-WHAT-ARE-YOU-DOOIIIIIIINNNNG??!?!"

As he watched his Calculator risk certain death for no gods-damned reason, he found it admirable that Sorina had trained her athletic ability to a reasonably high level. Earlier in her career, she was unable to run a half-malm, much less the same distance while fully sprinting through battlefield CROSSFIRE.

However, Tycon was far more *concerned*... than he was proud.

As a credit to her class, the Calculator had instantly and perfectly determined the mage's trajectory. Leaping through the air, she thrust out her left knee.

"I'm... HELPING!!" She declared.

With an audible and echoing crack of Bronze-Rank bone, she struck the half-transparent mage in the side of his thick head.

The mage fell motionlessly onto the Dungeon stones.

Sorina also fell.

She clumsily rolled about onto the Dungeon stones, falling flat onto her chest, arms outstretched. She was dazed, bleeding, and her left leg was bent at an awkward angle-- because it was BROKEN from the impact.

Stupid. Thrice-damned. Girl.

Did she not CALCULATE what was going to happen?

"W-worth it..." She groaned.

So. she. did...

Tycon once more adjusted his running direction, quickly approaching the downed mage. Leaping up and drawing his sword, he cleaved down into the mage's neck.

The Dread Mage was decapitated.

Also, Tycon had not broken any bones in doing so.

Spinning his curved blade, he stabbed its end into the human-like mana-construct for good measure.

Keeping his attention mostly on the mage, he extended his senses to the battlefield around him.

The members of Guild Letalis had refocused their efforts on defeating the Ghost Warriors around them, cutting them down safely and systematically.

The Brazen Guard had sustained a few casualties... not from the undead, but from the bolts of dark magic cast by the score of Shadow Snakes.

The clever creatures kept their distance and were difficult to hit in the shadows. Tycon particularly noted the sharp-eyed Elven Hunter, Felinus, shooting at the Snake Cultists rather than the enemy ranged units.

Tycon considered ordering Zenon and Athena to use their area-effect spells... but that would exhaust their mana reserves quickly.

...It would be best to seek cover.

"BANNOK!!" Tycon shouted to the human in the distance.

The Weaponmaster had a Ghost Warrior held by the throat, repeatedly smashing his helmet into his opponent's face. Tossing his unmoving opponent to the ground, he retrieved his battleaxe from the head of a different Warrior, before separating the first Ghost's upper torso from its lower.

"WHAAAAT?!"

"We must withdraw! I advise we descend!! To the lower floors!"

"GRARRRGH!!!" Bannok kicked at his fallen opponent before turning to observe the battlefield. His face fell in horror as he realized the casualties incurred, "Flame TAKE it all!!!"

He grabbed a horn from his side and blew on it... sounding the retreat.

"Hur... HUR HURR... HURR!!!" A pained, ghostly echo emanated from the head of the decapitated mage... where Tycon was still standing.

"Your reTREATTTT... is imPoSSSIBLE!!!" The head coughed.

"The F*CK is that??!!" Bannok yelled.

"Lead our troops!" Tycon shouted back, "I'll handle this!!"

Tycon groaned, "Let me guess, wizard. You're going to seal the entrances to the lower floors with your... 'formations'?"

"HRR... HAR.... HURRR... You.... you underssstand... the folly... of--"

Tycon shook his head. This was one of the Formation Mages that had arranged so many traps in the Dungeon. If there were only two, this one was the amateur.

« System, analysis: What is this creature? »

⟬ System response: The Dread Mage is a mana-construct, created by a formation. ⟭

Tycon had guessed as much. Performing a hasty scan of the area, he found no sign of the mage's main defensive formation... but it was just as well.

It was not uncommon to create a formation that held a soul or spirit. For the Formation Mage to achieve his pseudo-immortality, it seemed he'd done just that.

The more complete the transfer was, the more memories and sentience that spirit would retain. Normally, that spirit would lose more and more of its mindfulness and 'humanity' as the effective magic waned over time.

Unfortunately, this particular mana-construct had a glaring flaw.

It was... too human.

It retained its arrogance and sought to verbally abuse its opponents. It was capable of fear. It keeled over when struck by Korr's left hook.

It was capable of pain... also, it likely kept its sense of taste and other nice things.

It was still very stupid to keep the sense of pain, though.

Tycon lifted his knee to his chest.

The mage's severed head widened its eyes in realization, "Whatttt.... thattt are you doing?"

"Shattering the formation," Tycon confided, merely loud enough for the mage to hear. "Death to the enemies of Sol Invictus... you stupid idiot."

He allowed mana to course through his body, focusing his Gold-Rank strength into his lifted leg.

Without love. Without mercy. Without even hatred.

Tycon stomped down on the fallen mage's groin.

And again.

And... again.

The mage opened his mouth to shriek, to scream, to cry or beg... but Tycon continued. It was not until the construct's body began to dissipate into mana dust that he stopped.

« System, inquiry: Does the mage's spirit still exist? »

Even if it escaped, the mage would likely be in no state to contest them.

⟬ System response: The Dread Mage's spirit has been destroyed. ⟭

Pathetic.

Tycon turned to his guild members, "Letalis! We're retreating!! Lone, grab Sorina!!"