Chapter 686 Swamp Monster

Name:Headed by a Snake Author:
The crab-surfing, water-lance summoning Cleric of the Storm understood Aquan.

Tycondrius was not surprised.

"Miss Imperia, I feel the need to remind you... that a few evenings prior, you communicated your intent to gouge out my eyes and feed them to your contracted beast."

"I. did. NOT!" Imperia shot back.

...then immediately turned to sprint away, after her sovereign.

Tycon sighed and shook his head.

Children.

Younger elves were not beholden to the same Laws as Elven Ancients.

Ancients were known for guile and mistruths. It was something of a necessity, as their bloodlines made them incapable of lying. A younger elf, however, had no such weakness.

Fortunately, Tycon felt no need to worry about Imperia's potential treachery.

She was... not a clever child.

Tycon turned upon feeling a reassuring pat on the back from Krysaos.

"Don't worry about it, LT," The Captain granted him a wry smile, "Let's get goin'."

...

Tycon's adventurer instincts bid him seek out the largest, most-important looking building in the village... and King's inclinations proved no different.

Surprisingly, a villager answered the door. A wrinkled and hunched-over gentleman greeted their group and invited them to enter.

⟬ Bronze-Rank Lizard-blooded Human Expert. ⟭

The elder had a Metal-Rank, which was impressive, considering his advanced age... Further, his bloodline was... an uncommon one.

The creature's form was perfectly human, with hair more white than grey, a lack of visible scales, and mundane pupils.

However, there were... other, less-obvious signs to his... inhumanity.

The old man had a stilted walk-- which might have correlated to his age.

He had a full set of functional teeth... and some were more pointed than that a regular human's.

The damning evidence, however, was the fact that the elder's home-- for want of a more polite term, reeked. The wood and thatch house stank of suns-old musk and sweat, underlaid with the low, nutty scent of rotting meat... and the old man was its source.

From the way the Elven Cleric, Imperia, hid behind Krysaos' back and Krysaos undid the catch on the Heart of the Ocean, the two had noticed, as well... even if subconsciously.

Though unpleasant, it was... a natural odor. As it was not as powerful and pervasive as alchemically concocted perfume, Tycon found it tolerable.

"I apologize, adventurers..." Elder Thorne inclined his head, "that our village has so little to offer in the way of food and supplies."

"Please, Elder," King gestured towards a chair. "Sit. I and the men and women of the Neptune's Revenge are not mere brigands, but wouldst ask merely for shelter and thy tolerance until the time our flagship is restored to its former glory."

Krysaos sighed loudly, which drew a curious expression from the elder and-- as expected, willful ignorance from King.

Repairing the Neptune's Revenge to its... 'former glory', so to speak... was admittedly not difficult to achieve. The ship was in horrible condition when Tycon and his Captain first came upon it.

"Ahh..." The Elder sat down, groaning as old men do, "Hospitality... is to be expected. The tools, an empty house to protect you from the elements... that-- we can grant without issue, Master Elf."

He took a deep breath as if the act of speaking so many words fatigued him... "I can offer you little more. With the colder moons, wild game have become more scarce, forcing our hunters to trek deep into the dangerous marshland. Without the reliability of our crops and with our fishing boats so few-- I've even had to enlist the help of my sons and daughters to..."

--Wilfully ignoring Elder Thorne prattle on, Tycon mulled over the thought of the whelplings he'd mentioned. It would be logical if his kin shared his bloodline.

For the Elder, himself, to be the village head, either his scale-kin blood was tolerated or... multiple such humans were integrated amongst the village's population.

It would be a... precarious scenario if the entire village was Bronze-Rank and higher. In such a case, the village of Thorne was less a quaint, coastal settlement and more a hidden army, waiting to be fielded.

If they held allegiance to a potentially hostile power, it would behoove Tycon and his companions to keep neutrality... and remain vigilant.

Tycon shook his head, dispelling his concerns. Elder Thorne was requesting mundane assistance in providing food for the village.

If they were hiding a hundred Metal-Rank combatants, that would not have been an issue.

...Unless the villagers had... uncommonly voracious appetites.

Krysaos stepped forward, opening his mouth to speak.

King did not grant him the opportunity.

"--Worry not, human! While our ships remain anchored in the bay, Captain Krysaos and I shall do our utmost to assist thy village with its daily tasks."

...

"Ahhhhrrrrghh..." Upon Elder Thorne's house, Krysaos tilted his head skyward and groaned loudly.

"Helpin' a village in the middle of gods-damned nowhere..." He muttered. "This reeeeally shouldn't be our problem."

"Casting nets for fish and hunting for game is tireless work," Tycon reassured him as he replaced his Officer's Cap on his head. "The more the Coral Boys were focused on a single task, performing repairs all sun-- the higher the likelihood that they engage in... foolish acts out of boredom."

"Gonna run away, coward?" Imperia mocked, a sly grin across the child's face.

"Oh, I'd f*cking love to, girlie," Krysaos rolled his eyes-- "if I had a ship capable of sailing more'n a few klicks while staying UP-right!"

"Miss Imperia," Tycon narrowed his eyes. "I'd prefer if you'd stop openly antagonizing Captain Krysaos."

"Like that coward deserves my respect," Imperia shot back... Then she gulped and muttered a polite "Sir" as if that would excuse her rudeness.

...Tycon sighed and shook his head.

He did not grant the young woman advice for his own benefit. If the young dark elf continued to ignore it, he would not mollify his Captain should he decide to retaliate with more than just witty comebacks.

Krysaos suddenly ceased his steps as a young human child stepped out of hiding... and out from behind a suspicious-looking barrel.

His dark brown hair was a mess and his eyes were dark and puffy, as if he'd had a recent bout of crying.

⟬ Elementary-Rank Human Child. ⟭

...That the child was not a powerful individual was somewhat obvious, but it cost Tycon nothing to assert his observations.

« Thank you, System. »

⟬ You're welcome. ⟭

"A-adventurers?" The boy, no older than ten years of age, looked up with wide, bright eyes. "Are... you here to save us from the Swamp Monster?"

Krysaos narrowed his eyes, "Ain't a monster, kid. It's just a Coral Boy. Go back to the ship, you."

"Aye, Cap'n," The barrel rumbled before obediently falling onto its side. It rolled away-- near-opposite the direction the Neptune's Revenge and the Sugar-Titted Siren II were anchored.

"Oh," The whelpling stared at Barrel Boy as he rolled off... but turned back to Krysaos, "I was... talking about a different monster, though?"

"We ain't the monster hunters you're lookin' for," Krysaos shrugged. "But we got a guy workin' on it. Don't worry about it and go play with the other kids."

"There *aren't* any other kids," The child pouted... "It's just... just me and Willow. And she... she's not here."

"Don't care. Screw off, human," Imperia shooed the child away.

"Young lady?" Tycon pursed his lips in surprise, "Not once have you voiced opinion contrary to the Ancient's intent to assist with village matters."

"Well, yeah-- err... that is correct, Sir," Imperia crossed her arms, "but once my King hears of this, he'll certainly--"

"Monster?!" King's voice boomed as he exited the Elder's domicile.

He reached the small child with a single bound from the door, then knelt down to speak his level, "Mine ears hear the whispers of a monster that preys upon humanity."

Imperia gestured towards the Ancient with feigned excitement. Tycon found it... impressive that she managed to lace such a simple movement with sarcasm.

The child gasped, "You're-- you're an elf!"

Tycon crossed his arms. That the young man did not have the same awed reaction upon seeing the clearly Elven Imperia was... baffling.

"Indeed," King nodded. "Take heart, human child, for I am not only a mere elf-- but a king among my people."

"Wowww..." The child giggled, "You... have to be strong, then!"

"The greatest warrior to walk the Realm, in fact."

"Even stronger than... than... than Dragan of Sol Invictus?"

"Even stronger," King nodded.

Tycon doubted the veracity of the Ancient's claim.

"Tell me of your monster, child," The elf ordered. "for *I* shall be the hero to slay it, bring honor to my name, and safety to thy village."

"Wow..." The young boy continued to stare, starry-eyed.

"Say what you needed to say, young man," Tycon added.

"Oh, right!" The boy blinked his eyes, "There's... there's a huge monster in the swamp. The others in the village, they said--"

"Say no more," King stood up with a nod. "I shall find and challenge this monster in honorable single combat."

Without another word, the gentleman elf sprinted away at top speed.

"...There 'e goes," Krysaos pursed his lips.

"...He's really fast," The human boy tilted his head.

"Should... we go after him?" Imperia pouted.

Tycon crossed his arms... "Eventually."