Chapter 972 Icon

Despite Chantal's proclamation, Tycondrius knew that Natalya would have something to respond with, even if it was only bluster.

"42 Divine Armors," The Archbishop growled. "As many as the Basilica can muster... each of them easily worth another 1,000 trained soldiers."

That was a brazen claim. Was Natalya trying to field the Basilica in its entirety?

"17 thousand, 5 hundred," Boomed the deep and accented voice of the armored man. "And of that number, nearly 6 thousand soldiers who fear nothing-- who march without food or water... whose sole purpose is the utter annihilation of our enemies."

Tycon raised his eyebrows in surprise. According to the military documents he'd studied, those numbers were higher than the Sleeping Country had fielded in any previous war-- both for the living and the undead.

The armored man placed his gauntleted hands on his helmet... and slowly removed it.

What should have been a surprise to no one... shocked Natalya into speechlessness.

The man was not human.

His gold-green skin contrasted with the tusks jutting out the corners of his mouth, polished white.

He also had a sharp, military haircut, which Tycon appreciated.

If he had to partial a guess, he'd assume a Goblin heritage... or perhaps diluted Orcish blood.

"The Lich Queen sends her regards, Commander," The man said. "Her forces are yours to control. And I will be your instrument of hatred, as my father was, before me."

Tycon's eyes widened in realization... "You are... one of Gobsuke's sons?"

"One... of his sons?" Natalya babbled. "WAIT, did you say GOBSUKE?!? The legendary SNIPER OF SOL INVICTUS?"

"Yeah, he had like... thirty kids," Bella added.

"WAIT! ARE YOU BELLA?? SOL INVICTUS' LEGENDARY MAGE?!?"

"Natalya," Tycon chided. "Mind your voice, dear. There's no need to shout."

"Hey," Bella waved. "It's y'girl, Bella Badass."

The giant goblin man nodded sagely, "Yes. I am Gobbuto, firstborn son of our second mother, the tallest and strongest of my 35 brothers and sisters."

Gobbuto placed his hands on the table and bowed his head deeply... "My mothers-- along with father, they have told many stories... of the honor and valor of Sol Invictus."

It was somewhat awkward for Tycon, because they were sitting adjacent to each other... but he bowed lightly, as best as he could.

"You honor me, son of Gobsuke."

"It would be my... greatest honor... if I could..."

"I accept. Welcome to Sol Invictus."

"If I... could... if I could join..."

"You're in, friend."

"Your... your... most honorable guild."

The boy wasn't listening. He was sweating profusely and his heart was pounding. If nothing changed, he would soon pass out... but as magical healing was readily available, Tycon decided to ignore the child.

Hm. Sol Invictus had gained yet another member that was taller than he was.

Tycon looked over to the Witch yawning from across the table, "Bella?"

"We have like... probably 12 or 13 thou'?" She groaned, "Though that's mostly from the Forcen knights and Archangel's regulars."

"And what forces will the Sapphire Tower provide?"

"Hmmmm... Can get maybe a hundred-something of my girls... And... I *think* we have 121 Divine Armors-- but Archangel doesn't field collosals and superheavies like the ones that come out of Whitehearth and Making."

Tycon nodded, "After coordinating with War Prince Droghan and War Princess Cass, we can reasonably expect 14 thousand from the Free Nation."

"What?" Natalya gasped in shock, "How can you have more-- oh. You're counting the non-humans like in the Nemayan counts aren't you?"

Chantal scoffed from her side of the table, "Sea god's socks, the Nemayan's sitting *right* there."

Gobbuto waved, seemingly unaffected by Natalya's remark.

"Xenophobic terminology used by the Holy Country is... consistent," He said.

"...Indeed," Tycon answered. "My sister has the guarantee of a majority of the warbands, including the Stonelords, the tabaxi, the flesh mages, and... from what I understand, the plasmoids."

Natalya's indignation turned to confusion, "The... plasmoids?"

"Their inclusion in the latest Free Nation pact has been hotly debated," Tycon shook his head. "But it would be unwise to refuse their assistance."

"That's GREAT!!" Natalya said as she noisily stood up. "Now that that's over with, I think we should choose a leading force for this operation!! And the Holy Country would be *honored* to--"

"Wait, wait... Just--" Fleet Admiral Chantal De la Croix rubbed her temples. "So there's an upcoming op that calls for tens of thousands of troops... and over a hundred weapons of mass destruction."

Tycon pursed his lips... "Yes, that's correct, Admiral."

"The f*ck are we fighting?" Chantal frowned, "Dragons?"

Gobutto tilted his large head.

"Quick question, because I don't wanna mess this up," Natalya glared at Tycon, "but is she part of Sol Invictus, too?"

"She is not."

"Tch. Just checking," Natalya scoffed before shaking her head. "Of all the women in the Kingdom, Admiral De la Croix... they sent *you*? Literally every major power has this intel, but the Holy Country most of all, can--"

"We call them lizards, Chantal," Bella explained flatly. "Dragons don't exist."

Chantal's eyes twitched... "L-lizards?"

"Ya," Bella nodded. "Basically."

"Can I talk now?" Natalya whined in a quiet voice, "Sh-she gets the point..."

Tycon gently rubbed the Archbishop's shoulder. He felt obligated to do so.

"Wait... lizards... but... they're the size of warships?" Chantal shook her head, "And... they've got huge f*cking wings? And they FLY??"

Natalya turned to Tycon, pouting indignantly, "Do people from the Kingdom not have history books?"

"Do these so-called lizards BREATHE DRAGONFIRE?!?" Chantal screamed, "The kind that OBLITERATES whole companies of organized troops! A single flyby demolishing-a-FLEET kind of dragonfire?!?!?"

"Yes-- to all of the aforementioned," Tycon frowned. "Which is why this meeting is rather serious."

Chantal crossed her arms, her expression darkening into an appropriate, deathly-pale level of seriousness.

"Lieutenant... I trust you as a gentleman... (You are a scholar of war, I have heard of your exploits in battle on both land and sea. You are loved by our countrymen. However...) However... I ask you... (and my heart begs you for honesty...) tell me... who... the F*CK... you think YOU are... to wage a war against. LITERAL. dragons?"

Tycon leaned forward on the table, steepling his fingers.

Who was he?

Or-- better question:

Who the f*ck did he think he was?

He was the most suitable person to lead a counteroffensive against the enemy.

Why?

Because there was no one better.

...Granted, he wished it was not so.

Tycon thought himself a regular man.

He certainly wasn't a hero.

He was a man of principle... and of honor-- when it suited him.

However, Tycon understood Chantal's apprehension.

To lead the Realm into any possible hope of winning against the coming catastrophic threat... he needed to be something more.

Slowly, he turned towards Admiral De la Croix... and smiled.

"My name is Tycondrius of Charm: Dragonslayer."

The mood in the room shifted immediately.

"Wh-what?" Fleet Admiral De la Croix appeared shocked by the declaration.

The giant goblin-man, Gobbuto, bared his pointed teeth in a wide grin. The leather of his gloves whined as he clenched his fists, "And I will follow you to the end."

Bella lifted her large, conical hat, her expression a mix between amusement and be-musement, "Hm? Cool."

Natalya didn't say anything. She nodded in silence-- or perhaps, in reverence.

--and far too many Stonelords had halted their patrol, thunking their rocky heads against walls and windows to eavesdrop.

Their lack of professionalism was appalling.

From the series of gross overreactions... it would have been reasonable for Tycon to feel a bit of embarrassment.

That was not quite the case.

Instead, he was... in a state of high alert.

His sensitivity to danger and dangerous situations was being triggered. The pit of his stomach violently threatened to expel his dinner. His skin, from his outer forearms to the back of his neck, tingled so much it hurt.

He felt a stinging sensation in his eyes-- and, as swiveled his head to scan the room, the muscles in his neck and face felt strained.

Also-- most telling of all, his chest swelled with an intense feeling...

...of discontent.

...of hate.

Tycon flicked his wrist, activating his enchanted ring.

From the depths of the spatial dimension it contained, he drew a misshapen, metal rod... and tossed it forward.

It landed at an angle in the middle of the round table... but held still as if its perceived point stuck into the wood.

"Flame take you, Tycon," Natalya growled as she stood up. "What... dark magic is this?"

"Really, Boss?" Bella sighed. "If you're trying to put down a Domain, you could've just asked me."

"Leader..." Gobutto said as he again donned his helmet, "What is it?"

"Uhhh yeaAAah~" Chantal groaned, "How 'bout someone tell me what in the seven HELLS is going--"

Tycon snapped his fingers, simultaneously pointing at a nearby wall, "There!"

⟬ ⌈Commander's Strike⌋ activated. ⟭

As quick as Tycon knew she would, Chantal De la Croix drew one of her pistols from her belt and fired as directed.

"Hah?" She gasped.

A humanoid blur lowered itself, narrowly avoiding the shot. It sped towards Tycon-- something he also expected.

What he did not expect was a scarlet blur rushing to his defense.

Natalya screamed as she sheathed her forearms in holy flames, "Reveal thyself, foul DEMON!!"

Demon?

Tycon would have been *profoundly* relieved, if the unwelcome visitor was a mere demon.