Tycondrius leapt off his tree branch, grabbing the leg of a harpy passerby to slow his descent.
As his enemies were focused on the flashy spell effects of the Thunder God, his actions went largely unnoticed.
Tucking his sword beneath his arm, he snapped his fingers to aid the shirtless, blood-slathered fellow below.
⟬ ⌈Commander's Strike⌋ activated. ⟭
With each fingersnap, each swipe of his axe released mana-waves that knocked down trees and carved deep lines in the earth.
The Shirtless God had excellent hearing.
...But what of the white-and-brown harpy whose wings he'd borrowed?
"Good afternoon, Hatchling!" Tycon shouted, "From which flight is thy blood??"
"K-kill... all enemies... of the Tree God~" The harpy sang.
The response was strange, but more ominously... it was off-key.
Thus, Tycon assumed the young woman was under the same Domination-Type spell afflicting the the rest of the forest denizens.
That was unfortunate... for her.
Tycon reached for what appeared to be a tree vine, swinging on it to keep his forward momentum. Simultaneously, he flung his helpful harpy away from the battle.
With an unflattering (but somewhat endearing) 'gwak,' she smashed into a cluster of thin branches.
He did not use his full strength, hoping to leave her with a chance of survival. Most Harpy flights were allies to Charm.
...But what of the vine he swung upon?
"Good afternoon!" He shouted.
"(Please don't kill me, Ivory Prince!)" The Tree Snake hissed in response. "(I-- I don't believe in dragons!!)"
What?
...The response caught Tycon off guard.
For what reason were those disgusting lizards mentioned in the Tree God's forest?
⟬ Terrified Teenager, Bronze-Rank Darkwood Tree Snake. ⟭
"I have questions!" Tycon yelled, "Pull me up."
The Tree Snake frantically coiled himself around his tree branch, taking Tycon up with him.
Down below, Krysaos was fighting a fifteen-fulm tall creature wearing the skull of what appeared to be an unusually large moose.
⟬ Masked Forest Lord, Adamantine-Rank Fae-Touched Human Earthen Dreamer. ⟭
The Earthen Dreamer adopted a martial stance, throwing out a fist as he lunged forward.
A massive rock-arm exploded from the dirt behind him, speeding towards the significantly smaller human Captain.
Instead of blocking or dodging, Krysaos raised his rapier to the sky, his red aura doubling in size and strength.
"⌈Ban... kai.⌋"
Tycon sighed loudly. Krysaos' skill-naming sense was absurd. What did that even mean?
Massive blocks of ice formed on the Captain's back-- immediately shattering to reveal... a Transformation Skill?
Icy fins jut out of his shoulder blades... and an ice-tail grew out of his rear.
There were spikes jutting out of it... which would have been intimidating if they were arranged like a Manticore's... or a dinosaur of some sort.
It was the tail of... a Whitesaber Tuna.
That tail whipped forward, deflecting the Earthen Dreamer's attack with impunity.
...As Krysaos did not die, Tycon decided to ease his negative judgments.
He snapped his fingers.
⟬ ⌈Commander's Strike⌋ activated. ⟭
Allowing Tycon's mana to support Krysaos' next attack, the Captain activated another Skill.
'⌈Tuna Hail Cross,⌋' he called it.
With that, Tycon deliberately stopped paying attention to that fellow.
It wasn't worth the headache.
Vaulting up with one arm, Tycon stabilized himself on the Darkwood Tree Snake's branch.
"I need information."
"(Good afternoon, Ivory Prince)," The snake saluted with the tip of his tail. "(My name is Pretzel, loyal servant of Queen Nyctis.)"
He had a name and he kept his wits. Both were good signs.
The vine-looking serpent had seen better suns. He wore a clever disguise of sticky mud and leaves. Underneath, however, he was missing patches of green-brown scale from recent injuries and had grown thin from lack of nourishment.
It was unfortunate that they were in a combat zone. Nyctis' servant would be unable to rest for a while longer.
"Very good," Tycon nodded. "Report, Mister Pretzel."
"(I was sent to monitor the situation,)" Pretzel paused, flicking his tongue thoughtfully... "(Oracle Pallas Vecna has foretold of Winged Lizard Magic in the western forests.)"
...That was ominous.
"Pleaes confirm: are the creatures here all afflicted by Magical Domination?"
If it was truly Lizard Magic at work... then Ophelia was in far worse trouble than Tycon originally imagined.
If it was truly Lizard Magic at work, it also explained how the Bronze-Rank Pretzel was unaffected, while the Iron-Rank and greater creatures below had lost their minds.
A snake service under Nyctis would also be sworn to fight dragonkind wherever they reared their hideous, horned heads.
Conversely, the mental resistances of elves and humans would fold under the tyrannical lizard magic. Those that had reached Adamantine-Rank would have a chance at resisting... but success was not guaranteed.
Tycon had a Skill potentially able to dispel magical Domination.
It wasn't as effective as a Spell cast by a Divine Class... but he was not that.
⌈Desire Trigger⌋ could but provide a brief reprieve from the oppressive magic. Whether the Skill's recipient could use that to regain themself was up to their own mental power.
The Ophelia Tycon knew had a strong will... but if Wroe's selfishness had weakened her mental state beyond saving...
"(It is as you say, Prince,)" Pretzel hissed, "(but... there is worse news.)"
Tycon followed the Darkwood Snake's gaze to a dark corner of the battlefield.
"Mister Pretzel, withdraw your forces and report back to Lady Nyctis forthwith."
Pretzel bowed his head in deference, "(I... I hear you, Ivory Prince, but what will you--)"
"You have your mission," Tycon rendered a military salute, "I have mine."
He kicked off of his tree branch before Nyctis' servant could delay him further. Jumping between mana-footholds, Tycon headed towards the latest problem.
At thirty-fulms tall, it wasn't the largest opponent he'd had faced.
However, it was an abominable... chimerical creature-- likely with a series of profound abilities.
It was a creature with skin of hardened bark... which Tycon had no issue with.
However, it had the head of a... curved-horn lizard, the body of a... quadrupedal drake, and the wings and tail of a... wyvern.
That... disgusting... form.
It was one that should not exist.