546 Dawnbringer

Hidden in the chaos, Tycondrius got to his hands and knees, greatly increasing his crawling speed. 

There was no proper way to fight an armored suit over ten times one's height. 

'Requiescat in pace, young friend,' Tycon whispered in his heart. 'I don't plan on seeking to avenge you, but we'll say some nice things about you, tonight over dinner.'

Pale's certain death was a sore loss. Training a replacement would be a necessity. 

Lone was a possible candidate, though his development was... rather mundane. He would be useless if he didn't have an excellent work ethic and high degree of loyalty to offset his lack of talent. However, the Ranger still needed time to grow. 

He recalled that Invictus member Kimura Taree had some potential. If she survived her training in the Free Nation with Dragan, she'd be a half-decent replacement. With her talent, she should be a Peak-Iron or Gold-Rank Fire Martialist... unless Dragan developed her in a different path. 

Tycon could also... recruit someone new into Sol Invictus. 

A decent healer would be good-- as Tycon's own abilities were limited at healing higher-level injury. An Armored Class would be useful, as well, for when he didn't have access to either Dragan or Korr. 

❬❰ I Will Allow No Harm to Befall My Hero. ❱❭

A voice resounded in Tycon's head, reminiscent of a ringing glass bell. It was Troia's voice... *speaking* through magic. 

"[You Would Wield the ⌈Dawnbringer⌋, the Greatest Weapon of Our Holy Country, Against Me?]" Natalya responded, her voice amplified and echoed by whatever strange giant-armor-suit magics she was using. 

❬❰ Yes. What Threatens Our Realm is Greater Than Even Us, Dear Sister[1]. ❱❭

...Though he did not want to, Tycon again turned his head to look back. There was a second gargantuan suit of armor in the hall-- a few fulms shorter and colored in whites and golds. 

That was probably the Dawnbringer. 

He didn't see where Pale or Troia had gone off to. 

He had... the most terrible suspicion that they were both inside the second mana-construct. 

"[I Will Not Allow My Innocent and Cute Little Sister to be Tainted by an OUTSIDER!!]"

❬❰ The Hero Will Save This World. Stand Down, Sister Natalya. ❱❭

"[I Would Rather the World BURN Than Surrender to THAT CHILD!!!!]"

"[Um...]" Pale's shy voice echoed from the white suit of armor, "[Can we... not? fight? Please?]"

Two blazing red swords appeared in the Star-Fury armor's hands. Erratic mana, very dangerous, high chance to explode, "[I'LL KILL HIM!! THEN I'LL KILL THAT PRINCE!! THEN I'LL KILL MYSELLLLLLLFFFFFFFF!!!!!!!!]"

Tycon got to his feet and began to run in earnest. 

...

He decided to wait for a few bells before asking for Pale. If Tycon chanced into Natalya, he feared she would try to inflict physical harm upon him, heedless of the High Oracle's protection. 

He followed a small trail of signs carved into the stones... and was led to a small, out-of-place library. The Basilica had an entire structure devoted to housing books, only a fifteen-minute walk away. Thus, the classroom-sized library was a curious existence. 

He allowed himself in and openly announced his presence, "Good afternoon."

There was no immediate response... and there was no bookkeeper in attendance. 

That was a shame. Tycon wanted to ask if lightning claws were standard-equipment for Tyrion Librarians... among other things. 

He shut the door behind him and began to observe his surroundings. 

It seemed that the library was vacated only recently. There were a few books stacked up on a table. One was open, its pages detailing a Second-Circle spell formation. Besides that were several used pieces of parchment.

The author had penned excellent notes, especially for such a difficult ritual. Their core understanding was good... but there issues with the modifiers' notation. 

The organization of the transcript was... lacking. The runes were mashed into a single spell circle-- it was functional, but troubleshooting any errors would be a pain. 

...Also, their handwriting was atrocious. 

Tycon took a graphite stick and circled two particular points of interest in the book. That was his good deed for the sun. 

As he'd just lost a member of Sol Invictus, he was in the market for another recruit. If the formation mage was nearby, he'd strongly consider recruiting them... if they proved agreeable, anyroad. 

That person's effects were still present: a bag to hold their books, writing utensils, a scroll tube... 

There was a strong bow that was well cared for... and a quiver full of decently-crafted arrows...

...and there was an open leather wrapping that contained venison jerky. 

The spices were uniquely familiar. 

...It was something he'd made. 

Tycon narrowed his eyes... breathed in deeply and kept his senses vigilant. 

He didn't sense any mana fluctuations... and the scent from the jerky clouded his immediate sense of smell. But he sensed... a very... very slight tinge of movement. 

It was as if someone was watching him... and fearing discovery, they twitched in panic. 

« System, inquiry: Who is in the room with me? »

⟬ System response: One result. Sasarame. ⟭

His... daughter was in the library? 

He sighed and shook his head. Why was she hiding? 

...She should very well know that hiding was useless against him? 

He strode past the few bookcases... looked underneath a potted plant... looked beneath the tables. 

It took him a few minutes, but he finally found a young white-robed acolyte curled up underneath the front desk. 

It was his daughter, Sasarame, in her humanoid form. Her stark white hair peeked out from underneath her hood, draped gently over her sleeping face. 

Why had she dozed off in such a peculiar place? 

Was she not getting enough rest? ...Was she being bullied? He was determined to speak to Natalya about his daughter's learning conditions! Star-Fury or not, he would have answers! 

[1] This is a figurative term, denoting closeness, rather than literal.