56 Parselmouth

Deep in the Mosswood Wilds, in the territory of the Ivory Judge sect, a cave was hidden away. Considered sacred ground, it was protected by ancient, illusory formations, hiding its location from potential enemies and threats. Deep within, slumbered the Guardian Beast of the sect-- a great and powerful dragon, if Taree was to be believed.

At Tycon's behest, the two of them traveled alone. The girl begged for Pale to accompany them, but Tycon cruelly rejected her wish.

Pale and Wroe had information to gather.

Barza and Dragan had... work to do.

Taree kept a pathetic paper lantern as she walked through the cool, humid cave. She had initially tried to keep a brave front but that was quickly and unforgivingly torn away as she flinched at every loud drop of water or and every shrill screech of a bat.

Even after chiding the silver-haired girl, the girl's demeanor did not improve.

Unwilling to expound effort in being angry or disappointed, Tycon decided to wholly ignore the girl. This included the fact that the fool child's tiny hand had clasped tightly onto the material of his cloak as they walked.

Coming to an end, Tycon puts his hands on his waist, overlooking a vast, underground lake. A deep bluish-white shadow moved underneath the clear waters and it began to emerge amongst a great roiling of bubbles. A serpentine creature broke the surface, its head, larger than a carriage. Its fish-like scales shimmered a pale blue, perhaps once white. Thick whiskers fell from the serpent's pointed face, granting it a wizened appearance.

The cave shook with its roar.

Taree quickly got to her knees and bowed respectfully. Placed on the wet cavernous floor in front of her was a basket of tribute sausages she had brought. "Oh, Guardian Beast! We come with a tribute!"

Tycon crossed his arms, looking unimpressed.

Taree glared, "Warrior Tycon! Please! The Guardian Beast must be respected!"

The great serpent roared once more and the cave trembled, stalactites and debris falling and splashing into the lake. "(SHOW OBEISANCE, MORTAL, AS THOU GAZETH UPON MY FORM!!)"

Tycon took a deep breath, sighing and shaking his head.

« System, inquiry: Why do I understand this creature's speech? »

[System response: The Host is fluent in Parseltongue, the language of serpents and medusae.]

Tycon tapped his foot impatiently, splashing around a small puddle. "(And what's so impressive about thy form, you old codger?)"

The serpent looked stunned, "(WHAT?! DID'ST THOU NOT HEAR ME?!)"

Tycon began yelling back, "(By the gods, everyone can hear you! How about you lower your voice! I'm RIGHT here!)"

"(THOU ARE-- err...)" The serpent hesitated, "(The younger generation has become so rude in the last epochs...)"

"(The older generation has remained arrogant and unyielding since the beginning of time!)" Tycon shot back.

Tycon scowled. The creature before him was a dragon, but not one as he feared. The creature was a flood dragon, a river serpent. Even though the old fool before him was several hundred years old and weighed several tonze, it was merely a big, toothy river fish.

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"(Why hast thou come, disrespectful whelp?)" The flood dragon narrowed its eyes.

"(Have we resorted to name-calling, Old Fool? I'm here on behalf of thy sect to help thee!)"

...

Taree almost couldn't believe her eyes.

She had seen the Guardian Beast once, several years ago with her father. Her father had a rudimentary understanding of the Guardian Beast's language and through that, he was able to discern the Guardian Beast's prophecy-- of its demise and the decline of their sect. Her father went alone many times afterward, but no matter how many offerings he made, the Guardian Beast had never appeared.

The Guardian emerged on this sun... But the man she had brought with her refused to bow or kneel to its greatness!

And just when she was about to rush over and break his knees, they started talking! Yelling back and forth!?

Warrior Tycon knew no fear.

And he could speak with dragons.

...

The flood dragon spat out an ugly crystal the size of a human fist.

Tycon picked it up with a frown. It was wet, "(And what the hell is this, Old Fool?)"

Old Fool looked proud, "(O'er years and years of research, I've discovered the way to resolve my condition. Thou must bringeth to me the contents of this crystal!)"

Tycon read into the crystal's contents with the System's help. Every line he read, he grew more and more frustrated, until finally, a thick vein bulged in his forehead.

"(Thou MUST be joking!!)" Tycon yelled indignantly.

Old Fool shrank back, looking hurt, "(What dost thou mean? 'Tis a consummate list, most serious in nature.)"

"Devil's Thorn? Yohimbe Bark? (50 virgin women under the age of 25? How can thou dare request such things?)"

Old Fool averted his gaze, "(Is it too much? Has the number and quality of virgins lowered o'er the epochs?)"

Tycon threw a head-sized rock at Old Fool's face, which the latter dodged deftly, "(I'm not wasting my time gathering all this!! If thou were suffering Mana Overload, why didn't thou sayeth so?!)"

The giant serpent averted its guilt-ridden gaze.

Tycon took a deep breath, before continuing his rant, "(And what dost thou mean 'years and years' of research?! Thou relies on memories granted by thy bloodline!! When was the last time thou even left this cave??!)"

The flood dragon lowered its body into the water, its head level with Tycon and Taree, "(O' Little White... Thou shouldn't be so angry for issues so small.)"

All of the anger drained from Tycon's body as he placed his face into a palm, "You..."

"(Little brother~! Thy heart is magnanimous. Please assist this humble Old Fool, so he can fulfill his duty to the White Scale sect.)"

Taree tugged on Tycon's cloak, "Warrior Tycon... What... what is wrong with the Guardian Beast?"

Tycon sat upon a rock, his hands on the back of his head. He glanced at the flood dragon before facing Taree, "Old Fool is suffering from what we call Mana Overload... Essentially, there is a blockage of mana within his circuits--"

"Then he just needs a vessel to release his mana into!" The girl yelled innocently.

Tycon was caught off-guard by the sharp girl's enthusiasm. He glared at the horny flood dragon, who was nodding like a chicken in agreement. Old Fool wanted 50 virgins? The old bastard could dream. It was nigh impossible for a single female from the Ivory Judge sect to be strong enough to survive Old Fool's "release."

Tycon refused to suffer 50 lives, mostly because its inefficiency hurt his pride, rather than its morality concerned.

"That's not going to happen, young lady," Tycon growled.

Taree shook him back and forth, the corners of her eyes sparkling, "How do we save the Guardian Beast, Warrior Tycon??!"

"First of all, stop that before I toss you into the lake."

Taree stopped obediently.

Tycon held out a crystal, "It's all in here-- a task only you can perform, Kimura Family Head."

Taree took the crystal and cradled it like it was a child, "What must I do?"

"Within the crystal are formation diagrams and alchemy recipes. You'll need a team of Formation Masters to craft a sealing and focusing formation. You'll need Alchemists to concoct a mixture to increase mana-- err... spirit energy output, as your practitioners call it... And, though I'll need to remove a few items, a large number of spirit herbs need to be gathered."

Old Fool's face snuck close-behind Tycon, "(And the virgins?)"

Tycon smacked the flood dragon on the nose, "No! NnnnoO! Once the formation is sealed and the medicine is taken, you will do battle with me and my men. Then you'll be able to use your mana FOR COMBAT to your heart's content!!"

The flood dragon sank its nose and mouth into the water and snorted bubbles, pouting with its eyes.