Chapter 768 Secret Dungeon

Tycondrius was in the Eastern States as a favor to High Oracle Troia.

When he was tricked into destroying the Snake Cult in her Holy Country, he could at least fool himself into thinking he was solidifying his relationship with House Vanzano.

Athena... the child-sister of Maximus of Ezyria-- that was different.

Tycon helping Ophelia held... excruciating little value.

She was his friend's fiancee. He owed her nothing besides civility and vice versa.

Her position gave her advantages in projects utilizing Arcanite... but Tycon didn't care to have any but his most elite troops armored in such. .

Her craft gave her specialized esoteric knowledge... but Tycon didn't need to field additional Divine Armors beside Gaheris and Talks-With-Fire... nor was he willing to expend the resources for the frivolity.

And Ophelia was asking Tycon to take... yet another Gold-Rank quest.

...He really didn't want to.

He just wanted to go home...

--where he needed to go to complete his initial Gold-Rank quest for Medusa Queen Rylania.

--which was probably going to end in a life-or-death duel against his tyrant of a mother to win the right to marry Elle and become a family man.

Empty. f*cking. night.

Granting favors. Owing factors. Give and take, give and take.

Tycon groaned into his palms, wishing he could just do what Martialists did... seal themselves in a cave for a hundred years and masturbate-- or whatever they did, until they reached the next Metal-Rank.

Once an adventurer was strong enough, they didn't have to give a shite about what rules they bent or broke.

Unfortunately... it'd take more than a few hundred years for Tycon to reach Adamantine-Rank. That would mean abandoning Elle. That'd mean wasting whatever potential that Rickert child had.

In order to get stronger than what he was... Tycon had to gain power like most other people did.

Allies. Equipment. Knowledge.

Gathered by doing f*cking favors.

"Fine. What else do you want? " Ophelia laughed as she crossed her legs, a tinge of rosiness in her cheeks... "Is it me?"

What? No.

Before Tycon could answer, the woman laughed in his face, "Just kidding! Sorry, Ivory Prince. I'll be faithful to the end of my suns to my fool of a fiancee. But really... I'll accede to any reasonable request."

...Tycon pursed his lips and nodded. Though he didn't like being laughed at... there wasn't anything substantial to be upset about.

He sat for a moment, mulling it over... it would behoove him to request something difficult for the Arcanite Princess, but not impossible. Then, he could reasonably reject her quest without loss of face.

He didn't want to be Ophelia's pet snake, but he was intelligent enough to not burn any bridges.

The Arcanite Princess was the eldest and most powerful female in her house... and one of her family's most guarded secrets was the location of her House's titular Moonwell. And that too was guarded within an Ancient Elven temple-- complete with a Dungeon Core that ensured its puzzles were reset, the traps were ever empowered, and that hostile summoned creatures guarded its halls.

"Princess Ophelia," Tycon opened his eyes. "I want the location of the Water Temple."

"Alright."

"Gods damn it, woman!" Tycon shouted, "That's not how you're supposed to play the game!"

"I win, b*tch!" Ophelia laughed.

Tycon slid down on his bench, sitting with his back against the wall and covering his face to hide his frustration.

For all his bluster, he was not a clever man. Rather... he was a gods-forsaken fool.

The Water Temple was too great of an advantage to ignore. It was also a location sacred to the followers of the 'sea god'... so Captain Krysaos would need its location, eventually.

Though Ophelia didn't seem to regard it highly, her situation must have left her truly desperate to so easily give in to his demands.

"I'll scribe the ritual for you in my spare time," Ophelia smugly sipped on her drink. "I hope you understand that I can't go with you, though."

Tycon tried to keep a stern face-- even though he wanted to break everything in Ophelia's lab, "While your assistance would be a great boon... I understand."

Ophelia leaned forward, "You'll be fiiiiiine, Ivory Prince."

Her eyes lit up with ramping excitement, "So who's with you? Did you bring Miss Bella? I haven't seen her in over a decade."

"No," Tycon sighed... "According to Miss Coraline, Bella should have returned to Archangel or is in the process of doing so..."

"Lulu?"

"In the north. General Raelion. Brink of war with the Plane of Fire."

Ophelia's face had fallen and she was beginning to show her concern... "Mister Levi?"

"Killed in a wizard's tower," Tycon tapped his forehead. "Hole bored in his skull."

"Tycon..." The elf frowned, massaging her temples, "Did you bring... *any* Sol Invictus members?"

"I did not."

"So besides yourself, you have what? A ship Captain, a talking sword, and two dozen brave but barely-sentient rocks. And you somehow expect to succeed?"

"Don't be absurd," Tycon sat up, sweeping his hair back, "I alone will be eno--"

Ophelia threw her empty cup.

He caught it... but not before it bounced off his head.

"Ophelia... that hurt."

"Really, Ivory Prince," She scowled. "Are you trying to say that you *alone* can delve through the Water Temple, best its puzzles and traps, and defeat whatever eldritch *horrors* roam that place?!"

Eldritch horrors?

That particular Dungeon was... more daunting of a proposition than he'd originally estimated.

Tycon bared his teeth, "I'd like to say... yes."

"You, *Prince Tycondrius* are Gold-Rank now," Ophelia groaned. "With your bloodline, you can't *lie* to me anymore."

"Astute."

He was feeling a bit... miffed that Ophelia knew his rank despite his Amulet of Obscuration. Her spies were certainly well-informed.

"In case you've forgotten," Ophelia pointed at her tapered ears, "I am an *elf*, Tycon. You won't be winning any word games with me. Do you EVEN own a single pair of iron boots? A hookshot?"

"I'll... figure it out," Tycon averted his gaze.

It did not feel good being scolded... especially as he was in the wrong.

Ophelia placed her hands on her hips, a power pose that made her look competent despite her short stature.

"The Water Temple is a sacred place that less than a dozen have challenged in thousands of years. The traps? Deadly as Grimtooth's. The puzzles? Infuriating as Acererak's. The creatures? The stuff of nightmares detailed in the book of Ninomae, herself!"