414 Healing Pants

It pissed him off that he was going to be killed by trash. 

It pissed him off even more that he couldn't do anything about it. 

...Then a blast of torrential wind sent the bear tumbling backward. 

"⌈Soothing Winds,⌋" Zenon stood tall, a bleeding, half-dead mess, walking on two legs. 

Tanamar's chest felt warm... and he felt his open wounds immediately start to knit. He shot his eyes open wide, suddenly awake, and energized. 

He could fight. He could win. 

He was so happy he could almost kiss the guy. Almost. 

Tanamar smirked, "Zenon, you beautiful son of a b*tch." 

Zenon chuckled to himself, offering a hand, "I uh... you're welcome, bud."

Tanamar nodded, reaching up to clasp his hand around the Centurion's wrist, "Let's end this."

...

Sorina was leaning over the railing. 

⟬ Sorina Capulet, Bronze-Rank Human Calculator. Guild Invictus. ⟭

Tycondrius watched her closely to ensure that she didn't lose her balance and fall into the arena. She was not the... most graceful person. 

"Boss, is Zenon wearing the healing pants you told me about?" She asked.

Tycon nodded, "Yes, I do believe so."

"Isn't it kinda weird for a Wind Mage to be wearing healing pants?"

"...He can wear what he wishes to."

"This is great, though!" Sorina clapped her hands together. "This means Invictus has a healer now, right? (We can charge the other adventurers for his services...)"

Archbishop Natalya Crucis scowled at the drill-haired Calculator. 

⟬ Natalya Crucis, Gold-Rank Human Hallowed Summoner. Church of the Eternal Flame. ⟭

Natalya's attire was far more ostentatious than when he'd met with her in Silva several moons prior. She wore crimson red ceremonial armor that matched her hair. At her side was a staff emanating so much ambient mana, that Tycon surmised it could blow a hole through half the coliseum with a single wave.

"Preposterous." The Archbishop narrowed her eyes, "Centurion Zenon belongs to the Church of the Eternal Flame, not to a lowly adventurer's guild-- even if you are *Sol Invictus.*"

Seldin Korr crossed her arms, her one eye glaring through her flame-red hair... not looking at all intimidating in her green summer dress, "What is your relationship with Leader?"

⟬ Seldin Korr, Gold-Rank Human Raging Flame Knight. Guild Invictus. ⟭

Tycon sighed internally. Natalya Crucis was a very important person in the Holy Country... and Korr spoke to her frankly and without honorifics... 

"Ugh..." Natalya grimaced in disgust, "Do not associate me with your 'leader'. He is a tool, nothing more."

Korr turned to Tycon, clearly unhappy. She said nothing... but Tycon could assume she wanted to know his opinion on the matter. 

But... why was he being involved? 

Tycon grimaced, "My relationship with the Archbishop is purely professional."

"Mmmm...." Korr pursed her lips... "Suspicious."

Tycon narrowed his eyes, slightly annoyed by the conversation, "Why do you ask?" 

Korr turned away... but after a moment, squeaked in a tiny voice... "Gotta... make sure... they're good enough."

...Good enough for what? 

The Archbishop placed her gauntleted hands on her armored hips, "Oh, so now you're saying I'm not good enough?"

...

The winners of the tournament were announced. Guild Letalis had won the championships in both the junior division and the main event. 

Tanamar was beaten severely, but he would recover, especially with the assistance of magical healing. 

Centurion Zenon Skyreaper had overdrawn much of his mana and was in far worse of a state. 

Tycon sat aside the bedridden Librarian. He hadn't woken up in bells. 

The duo had performed well... to a point. 

Zenon, instead of working together with Tanamar and staying on the defensive, had stubbornly taken the fight to the... talkative Riftwalker. During the match, he had even displayed his domineering side, using his wind magic to toss around his opponent like a puppet on a string. 

Tanamar was no better, insisting that he play 'Monster Hunter' and trying to topple the biggest thing on the field. He would have been crushed-- crippled or killed, were it not for Zenon's intervention. 

Both of them were arrogant fools. But... these were the types of people that were his friends. 

Tycon could ask for no finer. 

...concerning personality and loyalty, of course. He was fairly certain he could find more intelligent companions if he picked four adventurers out of a group of ten. 

Zenon's physical injuries were healed by Adepts of the Church, but going well past the limits of mana exhaustion, the extent of his injuries were not clearly visible. 

Admittedly, Tycon had expected the Librarian to explode. To draw so much power... both internal and external, he may have sacrificed his mind... or perhaps even his soul. In those cases, even if Zenon was capable of waking, he'd likely have fallen to Bronze-Rank and his future growth would be stifled to never surpass Iron. 

At the very least, Zenon's mana circuits had fractured... that is, if they hadn't shattered completely. 

Thankfully, Tycon had a solution... which was the only reason that Archbishop Natalya Crucis didn't order Zenon immediately buried as a hero. 

Tycon was somewhat familiar with the cultivation techniques of Hidden Sect Martialists. They often utilized techniques to develop their mana circuits and the circulation of mana. If Zenon's condition was salvageable, the Librarian could undergo a pseudo-rebirth. 

When a human fractured their bones, they would mend to become stronger, more resilient. In a similar manner, if Zenon could repair his mana circuits from shattered or near-broken... his potential would rise exponentially. 

As a lucky coincidence, Tycon had an expert he could rely on to aid them... one that could guide an unconscious man in the cultivation techniques of the Hidden Sects. 

If Zenon could be saved... and if he had the will to live... then Tycon would do all in his power to aid him.