352 Too Handsome

"That makes sense..." Holy Lancer Tanamar nodded, "The thing imprisoned in the ice... it's half unsealed, which is why it's so dangerous."

"Which begs the question..." Felinus brooded, "How powerful would it be, released from its prison?"

Tycondrius continued, "The decayed runes are likely a result of a mana overload that erased most of the script."

"Then what was that shite-eating grin about?" Bannok asked.

The corner of Tycon's lips curved upward, "I will be able to go from seal to seal, restoring the formation's integrity. I will need a substantial amount of mana dust and sanctified mages at each point to channel mana towards each seal's reactivation."

"Can do!" Aria clapped her hands together, "We have the materials and the mages!"

"Great! Hahaha!" Bannok guffawed, "So we go in, distract the big dead guy, make the smaller dead deader, and you lock the thing back in its icebox?"

"Hold your horses, bub! We'll give you a defensive detail," Aria pursed her lips. "I'll give you a healer-- Fel, can you lend Mister Tactician some o' yours?"

"I will accompany him," Felinus declared.

Tanamar shook his head, his eyes shut, "The undead in the forest include fliers-- including Iron-Rank ones. It'll be dangerous to sacrifice our ranged line."

That was indeed a problem. Felinus and Tanamar's archery skills were the best in the Brazen Guard. If either of them were to directly assist Tycon, the collective as a whole would lose a substantial amount of safety.

"I'll pick a few Rogue-types to go with him," Bannok declared.

"Darlin', weren't you listenin'?" Aria scolded, "I'll assign a barrier mage and a healer to babysit."

"I will be enough," Felinus insisted.

Tycon narrowed his eyes. It was the first time his handsomeness had become an issue, considering the three Brazen Guard leaders were bickering with each other to help him. Discussion over it was largely useless. Anyone skilled enough to keep up with him would be better suited to fighting the Iron-Ranks.

"Unnecessary." Tycon shook his head, "I can do it, myself."

"Absolutely not," Aria huffed. "It's too dangerous to go alone. You take some help, sir, or you ain't goin' at all!"

Tycon looked to Bannok for confirmation.

"Ehh..." Bannok shrugged.

A Gold-Rank Weaponmaster avoiding conflict with his wife... was reasonable. Tycon could respect that, even if the result inconvenienced him.

"Hm..." Tycon placed a hand on his chin in thought, "My duo is a wind mage. He can keep up with me."

"The fish with the fresh haircut?" Bannok asked, "He's good people. You happy with that, Ari?"

"Hmph," Aria turned up her nose and hid behind her fan. "I s'pose."

Tanamar opened his eyes again, frowning... "Tycon... What will you do if you can't reseal all four runes?"

That was most troubling... Tanamar did not show a propensity for formations, yet accurately assessed that resealing the creature required four runes. Hunter Felinus admitted to having only found three.

Had Tanamar encountered the formation in a past life? No, that was highly unlikely. He would have reacted after the three runes were identified.

...The only possibility Tycon could think of was that Tanamar's had access to limited precognition. If he could see the future... then even with his formation expertise, it was possible that his resealing would fail.

"Hon?" Aria tilted her head, "Y'alright?"

Tycon pursed his lips, "If I cannot reactivate the formation, we can overload it once more, causing the creature's ice prison to violently explode."

"Which would unseal the creature," Deep lines of doubt set into Hunter Felinus' frown.

"While also making it vulnerable to attack..." Tanamar shut his eyes briefly... Opening them, he nodded and grinned, "Yeah. I like that."

"My only question..." Bannok crossed his arms, "--is why wasn't that the plan to begin with?"

...

Tycon examined each of the four sets of runes. They were deceptively large, each spell circle nearly two fulms in diameter and chiseled into the material. Following the symmetrical spacing, Felinus found the fourth set, which was underneath a light blanket of snow. There was also a fifth set, which Tycon did not need to modify.

"I'm assuming there's a reason why we can't just fix all the seals without fighting, Optio?" Centurion Zenon asked.

"That would be the best-case scenario." Tycon pursed his lips, "We are positioning before the fight in case the Throned Giant reacts negatively to our... meddling."

Tycon turned to Zenon, frowning, "Remain calm and quiet, Brother-Zenon."

An Elven hand cupped over Zenon's mouth, muffling his scream.

"Tactician," Felinus nodded. The Elven Hunter had silently dropped down from a tree, stifling Zenon's surprise, "Tanamar's briefing will begin shortly."

"Thank you, Master Hunter," Tycon patted Zenon on the chest, "You're fine."

Only when Zenon relaxed his shoulders did Felinus release him. By the time the Centurion turned around to look, the elf had long disappeared, "O-optio? Wh... what was that?"

Tycon shrugged, "If I know elves well-- which I don't, then it was a lesson. Keep your wits about you, there are ghosts in this forest."

Zenon rubbed his hands and warmed his cheeks, "Brother-Tycon, do ghosts really exist?"

"In this particular case, does it really matter?" Tycon chuckled, shaking his head. "Whatever enemies we find have to be dealt with."

"Hm... I guess you're right," Zenon sighed.

"Of course, I'm right. Let us withdraw."

...

In the distance, an old man sat upon a throne, his left arm and abdomen-down encased in magical ice. His skin was desiccated and grey, his eyes eaten by beasts long ago. No life remained in those eyes. Yet still, it turned its ancient head, watching with sightless eyes. Waiting.

With no enemies before it and even though its lungs had crumbled to dust, it let out a ragged sigh, gnashing its teeth in frustration.

All this was slightly more unnerving, considering that seated, the man was over 20-fulms tall and radiated an aura of powerful magic. Worse still was that the throne that imprisoned the creature slowly crept forward, apparently not as immobile as it seemed.

« System, inquiry: The power level of the creature. »

⟬ System response: Adamantine-Rank Undead. Warning: Proceed with caution. ⟭