194 Lulu Offense Formation

Lulu, the blonde demoness could not easily defeat her Flayed Beast alone. She was, however, quite capable of rebuffing the creature's rushing advances with her retinue of slowing and entrapment spells. When it came within jaw-snapping range, the tiny blonde would tap the end of her parasol upon it and send it sprawling back, crashing into laboratory equipment.

The woman's mana expenditure must have been immense.

Even if it wasn't, Guild Invictus would converge upon the remaining creature to ensure its speedy demise.

Because of the tower's mana-rich atmosphere, Tycon was willing to push his mana reserves. Forcing Wolfrider to attack against his will drained him near his limit. Breathing in deeply, the fresh mana flow was as refreshing as a drink from a cool, clean spring on a tiresome day.

After only a few moments, Tycon's energies were restored enough to cast a Skill he had kept long in reserve.

"Sol Invictus!!" He yelled, "ATTAAAACK!!!!"

« System, activate Lulu Offense Formation. »

...Tycon did not know what the skill actually did. He had discovered it, browsing a list of Skills he had at high Completion-Rating. Judging only by the name, it was an offensive formation with Lulu at its core.

[Activating...]

Tycon, Lone, and Sasha dashed forward as mana assisted their swift movements across the room... and the trio arrived adjacent to Lulu.

Tycon held his whip back, ready to strike, while his sword pointed forward.

Lone held his wolf-hammer above his head, ready to bring it down.

Sasha held her arms locked-straight and both of her fists forward, trying her best to scowl angrily.

And the three of them were facing... Lulu.

"Ohoho!" Lulu chuckled, "You made a formation just for me, Boss~?"

Lone and Tycon immediately turned their bodies to face the Flayed Beast, currently trapped in a lightning cage.

Sweat ran down the back of Tycon's head. What the hells was with that skill? It seemed like it was designed to fight Lulu.

Lulu didn't seem to notice. And if she did, she didn't seem to be offended by it.

...Tycon decided to stop thinking about it.

He ran forward, lashing out with his whip and wrapping it around the Flayed Beast's left foreleg. At the same time Lulu dispelled her lightning cage.

"Invictus! Pin left!"

...

The remaining Flayed Beast was felled quickly enough. Lulu revealed a unique skill-- she was able to open a rift to the Eternal Battlefield, effectively importing a torrent of metal shrapnel. Since the jagged bullet-like bits were quite physical, the undead creature did not have the benefit of its spell resistance. And with the creature pinned down, it could not escape the wicked barrage.

Tycon grabbed a chair from one of the nearby tables and sat down to rest. He needed a short break to recover from his mental fatigue and to prevent the creeping onset of a headache.

...He considered heading back down to the kitchens to fry some potatoes with the Tower Wizard's stove.

The Lone Shadowdark took the victory as free reign to take his hammer to the large creature's skull.

What was he doing? Was there a need to waste so much energy?

The young Shadowdark turned back to the room's entrance to shoot a radiant smile at... Margeaux.

Ohhhh. Tycon understood the phenomenon. It was a primitive display of showmanship, performed by Lone, in order to attract a mate.

The pink-haired maid was hurrying over, her soft, pudgy face full of concern.

...Tycon wondered if the girl knew if the tower had a hidden stash of food or dried meat. That would prove her useful, for once.

Lulu's shrill laugh, a mad witch's cackle, shook Tycon out of his deep, delicious thoughts. Slowly, he opened his eyes to slits to see the demoness doubled over in laughter. Something tugged at his hand... and he turned to see Sasha pointing back toward the Flayed Beast.

A human-sized, mass of black was writhing while standing upright. The grotesque stood aside two fallen wolf-hammers.

...It seemed the black, leathery skin that once hung from the Flayed Beast had wrapped itself around Lone. The fool was soon to suffocate and pass out.

"Hmm... That's right. We quickly destroyed and burnt the hides of the previous Flayed Beasts," Tycon mused.

"MmmmHRHGGHH!! MHHRHGHHH!!" Lone mumbled loudly. He fell to the ground, wriggling and struggling.

He looked like a sea cucumber. Tycon had found them especially delicious, braised with wine. It was one of his favorite dishes, dining on Saint Guinefort.

Tycon was hungry.

Margeaux, the useless half-elf, grabbed Tycon's arm and shook him, "Sir Tycon-- sir. Please, you have to help him!"

Tycon rolled his eyes and gently pried the woman's weak grasp off of his arm, "Very well."

...He was planning to help Lone without the woman's nagging.

Standing up, he started towards the wrapped Warrior.

Tycon had briefly considered being rude to the pink-haired annoyance. However, his sense of pride and professionalism was more important to him than the fleeting enjoyment he'd gain from talking down to a mundane commoner.

Crouching down, Tycon peeled back the skin covering Lone's mouth.

"BOSS! HELP!!! I'M TRAPPED IN A KILLER BLANKET!!!!!"

Tycon opened his fingers. With a rubbery snap, the Flayed Beast's skin again wrapped around Lone's nose and mouth. The young man resumed his panicked squirming.

"Mister Lone." Tycon gently chided, "I am right here. There is no need to shout."

Sounds of muffled sobbing emanated from the killer blanket as tears began to stream down Lone's cheeks.

"Ughhh," Tycon groaned and peeled back the skin restricting Lone's breathing again, "Good afternoon, Mister Lone."

"G-good afternoon, Boss... Would you... ergh... please help me?"

Smiling, Tycon pat Lone on the shoulder. The killer blanket suddenly constricted. Lone exhaled in pain.

"...Well, that last bit was my mistake." Tycon gingerly retracted his hand, "But I must say that you were being rather careless, yourself."

Lone was surprisingly silent. The young man's face was beginning to change colors. Tycon surmised that the factor affecting his facial color was also preventing him from speaking.

Tycon felt a broad grimace stretch across his face. He needed to free Lone before he accrued any irremediable damage.

"Haaayyyy~ Bosssss~!" Lulu sang sweetly.

If Tycon didn't know any better, he'd have compared the woman's deep and musical voice to an angel's, "What is it, Miss Lulu?"

"You want me ta..." Instead of finishing her sentence, the demoness twirled a strand of her blonde hair and held out her palm. A fist-sized sphere of concentrated flame appeared, slowly rotating in place.

Tycon twisted his lips, "What are the chances of that fireball also killing Lone?"

"Not a hundred!!" Lulu nodded proudly.

Tycon narrowed his eyes, "How about if the chances are out of 100... percent?"

"Oh," Lulu closed her hand, the fireball dissipating in a sizzle, "Y-yeah... then it is.a hundred."

Tycon rolled his eyes. Demons had a love of wordplay.

"Sasha." Tycon summoned Invictus' chocolate elf, who trotted over obediently, "Have you learned the Sacred Flame spell?"

She nodded in excitement.

Tycon summoned his cutlass out of his spatial ring, "Use your spell to heat up my sword. Hopefully, the divine flames will cause the creature's skin to recoil and release Mister Lone..."

The other result was the flayed skin crushing him tighter.

It was a risk Tycon was willing to take.