Headed by a Snake

Chapter 1067 Spear Lord

When Tycondrius last left Pale, the boy had the Class of Spear Hero.

At the time, he'd also achieved Adamantine-Rank, though Tycon surmised he'd even taken a half-step into Sky-Rank...

However, the boy he found on the beach of Port Town Jad was bereft of Divine Power.

There were historical precedents of Heroes losing their Class. According to Tycon's faulty memory, it was a consequence of wanton murder of innocents, rejection of authority figures; and, in one particular case, an abuse of power to fulfill a dramatically selfish, self-serving desire.

Thus... Pale, of all people, losing his Hero-ship-- besides being lamentable, it was... utterly baffling.

Knowing Krysaos' personality, the Sea God would be spreading the word that the Hero-proper had arrived. And that troublesome wastrel, Neerin Neelia likely 'cryptically hinted' to her many subordinates of the same.

The Wyrmslayer Alliance thought they had a Hero.

But they were only partially correct.

The boy would be nothing more than a figurehead... which was, admittedly, useful on its own.

It supported a platform of circular logic: 'We cannot lose as long as the Hero stands with us.'

Of course, that was f*cking false-- but reinforcing the morale of their troops had great, untold benefits.

As for the boy's potential as a combat unit...

Pale's prodigious strength and ability had been reduced to Gold-Rank.

It was a significant reduction in power, but Gold-Rank remained a monumental achievement.

If he were to fight alone, as a single-combatant, Pale had even more combat potential than Tycon, himself.

Spear Lord, was a rare, High-Tier Class--

...Third-Tier Class.

And as a Third-Tier Class, it was limited to once a generation, in the same vein as the Hero Class.

Yet... the situation... remained... in-*credibly* frustrating.

The current Pale, Tycon would only trust with fighting one or two Drake Armors at a time.

That... would be enough for most all of the Wyrmslayer Alliance to be dazzled and amazed.

Still... the previous Pale, Tycon could have instructed to use an offensive movement Skill to put on his figurative murder-boots, violently deposit himself into the enemy's back line, and physically inform them of his handsome Commander's hateful will.

Thus...

...Tycon decided to mentally file that away.

He'd deal with the issue later.

He still had to rebuke one more hatchling-- the one for whom he felt the greatest guilt.

Tycon turned to face the fifth and final member of the Hero Party.

...and he furrowed his brows in confusion, realizing they had disappeared.

"Sir, are you looking for something?" Pale asked.

"Yes... and they're..."

--very important to me.

Tycon counted the hatchlings in his midst.

Boy. Large boy. Purple-haired human. Silver-haired halfwit.

"Four."

There were only four.

Tycon blinked his eyes.

"Um, it's just us four, Boss?" Kimura offered.

"...Right."

Of course, there were four.

Tycon vaguely remembered making the same mistake in the recent past.

...Something was affecting his mind.

Tycon had a domineering enchantment inscribed onto his soul that prevented mind-altering effects up to Fourth-Circle.

Thus, his first assumption was to blame his mental state.

It... wasn't the best.

Tycon leaned over, resting his face in his palms.

Something was wrong.

He had to think.

There was a reasonably short time within which Pale *had* and had *lost* his Class.

In that time... he disobeyed Tycon's order to leave the Realm.

But if the was the reason was so trivial--

Tycon loathed the logic, but it was, nonetheless, a solid foundation to argue.

The Fates had predicted Tycon sending Pale off.

...He had the Class of Hero, because his role *should* have been as a Champion for a different Realm.

That prompted two ominous questions.

The first:

The first question was... a difficult one. And the answer had grave implications for the lizard war. However, he was certain Troia would be able to answer it.

The second question-- and still one of great concern, was:

How did Pale stray from a path even the Fates had determined?

Was his sense of righteousness really so great?

...or was he manipulated by a power beyond the Fates' purview?

Tycon was very much hoping it was the stress rather than something more sinister.

"Whose idea was it?" he frowned.

"It wasn't mine!!" Kimura cried.

Besides that one, the other children averted their gazes. The Holy Princess went as far as to hide her hands behind her back.

It looked rather awkward, the young lady in the kneeling position, hands behind her back. If anyone were to witness it, they might accuse Tycon of hazing her. That would undoubtedly lead to a complaint or three...

"You're not in trouble," Tycon assured, "but a proper answer would allay a particular concern."

"It was mine," Pale declared. "I take full responsibility, so if anyone should be punished--"

"I *just* said you're not in trouble," Tycon insisted.

[It wasn't him,] Troia signed.

Tycon pursed his lips, examining the High Oracle's expression.

She always seemed to know a bit more than she let on. Oracles did dream, after all. However, it was the nature of oracle-type Classes to be horribly vague, in the common case that they were horribly incorrect.

"It. was. the. YOUNGEST!" Ree proclaimed.

"No!" Gobbuto roared, "I am loyal to orders!"

"If that was entirely true," Tycon sighed, "we would not be having this conversation."

"Err... Leader-- that is..."

"Oho! I remember something!" Kimura said.

She crossed her arms, jutting out her chin with great arrogance, "I remember Gobbuto saying 'gRawrr, it is DeCiDeD thEnn!! He was *all* about it!"

"I do not *gRaWr!!*" Gobbuto insisted-- rather indignantly, "and a MAN must not be slow in his decisions!"

Though Tycon could not be certain, it did sound like the boy 'grawr'ed. It sounded like he 'grawr'ed quite often.

[Slow down,] Troia signed to Kimura, [Our youngest? Who was he speaking to?]

"Durrr, I d'nno," the dimwitted Martialist replied, adding a noncommittal shrug to accentuate her general lack of thought.

[Do you truly think he is at fault?] the Holy Princess signed.

She appeared to be pouting in what Tycon assumed was mild disapproval.

"Well... no," Kimura admitted. "Gobbuto's favorite thing is to follow orders. I'm pretty sure he'd commit sudoku before choosing to go against them."

Tycon didn't know what that meant, but he could read into the context easily enough.

But besides that...

He found two discrepancies in the conversation to be cause for concern.

Not once did the children shift the blame to Becky or Neerin Neelia, the two most obvious culprits.

And unless they had somehow become excellent at conspiracy and deceit, they had no idea who convinced them to return.

...or, as a group, their collective intelligence had been reduced to barely-above the level of a Gorgon.

...But he hoped that one of them, in particular, kept her rational mind.

"Troia," Tyocn waved. "You know something."

The Holy Princess bared her teeth, then tilted her head.

[...Something is wrong,] she signed. [Something is different. I don't know...]

"I see..."

Though it was still possible that Tycon was overwhelmed by stress and fatigue... he found it far more likely that a third-party had interfered with recent events.

Memory manipulation. That was the lowest-level Spell effect that could explain the phenomena he and the Hero Party were experiencing.

But to alter the memories of Troia and Pale? A Saintess Candidate and a former Hero?

--and himself? The seal that protected his mind from memory-alteration effects was scribed by a literal Demon Queen.

But... if the culprit was *not* memory manipulation... if it was *beyond* that...

Entire events.

--a length of time.

Spanning bells or suns? Years or lifetimes?

It was possible if a high-level Mage casted ?Time Travel? or a similar effect.

Or... had a ?Regression? Spell activated somewhere?

...Whatever was happening at that moment, it was a God-Rank effect or the equivalent.

It was a troublesome notion. Tycon only had the strength and resources to deal with a single God-Rank... and inflicting minor forgetfulness was not in accordance with the modus operandi of the Tyrant God.

Thus, he chose to ignore it.

He had to.

And even after that... one final, ominous question remained.

Tycon closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Then, he leaned forward on his seat, looking down at the Holy Princess with a dark expression.

"Lady Troia," he said... "Where is the Hero right now?"

"Wait, what?" Ree tilted her head.

"Leader?" Gobbuto grimaced.

"I'm... right here, though?" Pale said, a nervous quaver in his voice.

[My Hero is right here,] Troia signed resolutely.

Tycon found it peculiar that she seemed so... defensive about the topic.

"No... no way."

Pale's surprised voice bid Tycon to shift his attention.

The boy was circulating his mana, staring blankly at his open palm.

"I... I can't use my holy power?"

So he was just figuring it out.

Tycon was not surprised, though.

Pale's mana reserves had been significantly reduced... but from infinite and overwhelming to simply monstrous and unfair.

"Wait, what does that mean?!" Ree cried. "Pale's no longer a Hero?"

"It means nothing," Gobbuto growled. "Our reasons are good and just. We will fight even if the heavens themselves forsake us."

Tycon nodded in approval at the young man's loyalty. He had the same opinion, more or less. And though he was fairly certain Gobbuto was speaking hyperbole, most of the gods had indeed forsaken the mortal races.

Still...

"Lady Troia," he said... "Where is the Hero of *this* Realm?"

Troia hesitated, a pained or forlorn expression on her face.

Pale seemed to notice this. He reached his hand out toward the hand of the Holy Princess. However, before they touched, Troia finally answered.

[...He will arrive soon,] she signed. [But with his arrival... is Fury... and Death.]

The other hatchlings took the news with grave silence.

And Pale, in his impotence, put his hand down.

But... as everything in the past few weeks spoke of such things, Tycon was relatively unaffected.

"Hmph. Very well. That will be all, children. Get some rest and prepare to follow my orders when we battle begins."

"Boss..."

Pale-- the boy had lost a great deal of confidence. He stood with his gaze locked on Tycon's, tears pooling at the corner of his eyes.

It was curiously unusual how he was surrounded by his three closest friends, yet still look so alone.

Pale had the height and frame of a grown adult man... but he still acted like a child at times.

"That goes for you too, boy," Tycon waved. "Whether I command you to fight, flee, or sacrifice yourself for mission success, you will do so. Or I will literally kill you-- no second chances."

"But... I'm no longer a Hero?"

...That boy was annoyingly simple.

"I have never cared whether or not you had the Hero Class," Tycon frowned. "Nor have I ever treated you differently because of it."

"But..."

"Nothing changes, boy," Tycon groaned. "Kimura's been by your side since before you were selected. Gobbuto and I are your extended family through Sol Invictus. Then, the Holy Princess has been romantically attracted to you, practically since you were first summoned. You're still fighting tomorrow-- no excuses!!"

"(wait, what?)" said Troia.

"Respond!" Tycon ordered.

"Y-yes sir!!" Pale returned.

"Hmph... Acceptable," Tycon nodded. "Now... gather your things and start moving. Depart for Whitehearth and report to me by dawn, at the very latest."

He leaned back in his seat and rendered a lazy wave, "The five of you are dismissed."

"...Sir," Gobbuto said nervously, "We are only four."

"Dis-missed," Tycon glared.

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