468 True Face of Sol Invictus

Dragan shook his head, his red-mop of hair flapping about. It was reminiscent of a wet dog shaking its fur, "What the hells...? OHH!! BURNING TOWN!! BOSS!! Are we the ones doin' the BURNINATING?!?"

"No, not this time," Tycon smirked. "Snake Cultists are attacking this human town."

"Tch," Zuko sneered. "What trash fire mages do these losers have? I could burn down this whole street with two spells-- no survivors."

"C-come on, Zuko! Aha..." Quay laughed nervously. "Like Tycon says, we're here to save people! To be HEROES!!" 

The Elven Pathfinder placed his hands on his hips, pushing his chest out and smiling radiantly. 

"Shut up, Quay," Zuko rolled his eyes. 

"Ahaha HAHAHAW!!" Dragan loosed a laugh, deep and boisterous, "Shut up, QUAYYY!"

"Oh, come onnnn, guys!!" The sandy-blonde elf whined. "Tyconnnn! Tell 'em!!"

Tycon shook his head, unable to hide a smile of contentment. 

This was the true face of Sol Invictus. 

"We're here to save a human adventuring company called the Brazen Guard. Any questions?"

"Question!" Quay raised his hand. "What happened to your face? I mean-- where's all your piercings and stuff?"

"Irrelevant," Tycon waved the elf away, "This is what I look like. Next question."

Zuko narrowed his eyes, "Yeah. I got one. What the hells is wrong with my mana? It feels like half of my gods-damned circuits are blocked off. And where he hells is that stupid kid, Hongyue?"

"The four of you are mana-constructs in a Reality Marble," Tycon explained. 

"Ugh, this is bull," Zuko sighed, shaking his head. 

The pale elf didn't complain more than that. He was seemingly unsurprised by the situation. 

...This was not the most ridiculous adventuring premise Tycon and his guild had come upon. 

Gobsuke crossed his arms... deep in thought. 

Tycon gestured towards him, "Did you have a question, Gobsuke?"

"No... It all makes sense now. There were holes in my memory that I couldn't explain... For example, I don't recall the name of my very mundane, very normal wife."

Tycon grimaced. He recalled being often told that Gobsuke's wives were very attractive... and had high-tier combat classes. 

Dragan looked over, "Which one?"

"My blonde wife."

"Oh, I don't remember her name, either," Dragan shrugged. "Nor the other one's."

Tycon felt his mouth twitch. Why did the Titanblood ask for clarification then?

Dragan raised his hand in the air, "BOSS! Is collateral damage permissible?"

"To structures, yes. To civilians-- preferably not."

"SOUNDS GOOD!!! GAHAHAHA!!" Dragan cackled. Like an excited child, he slammed his very, very heavy weapon against the road... forming deep, heavy cracks. 

"Oh, PSHHHH!!! You're one to talk, Zuko! Hohaha~" Dragan chuckled. "You're the reason we're not allowed back in Jacksonville!"

"Are you kidding me? That was all you and that junkie, Horse." Zuko angrily clenched his teeth, "I'm sick and tired of always getting blamed for your mistakes."

"Wait! Hold on!!" Quay pushed himself in between the tall elf and the taller Titanblood, "What happened in Jacksonville! I don't remember anything happening when we went to Jacksonville!"

"Shut up, Quay!" "Yeah, shut up, Quay."

"Tyconnnnn!!!" Quay pouted. "They're picking on me, again!"

It had gotten much noisier... but it no longer felt out of place. It was more like... a nostalgic memory. It was fake... his own recreation of old suns he no longer remembered. Still, he could keep the best memories and move onward, seeking to relive glories past. 

"Gobsuke!" Tycon called out. "Find us a path to one of the fortification towers."

...

⟬ A short time and 22 dead cultists later. Dragan: 6 kills. Quay: 11 assists. ⟭ 

Dragan pursed his lips to the side, "Incomin' friendly."

The small form of Gobsuke dropped down from a nearby roof... 

"⌈Catfall...⌋" A half-second before he hit the ground, his movement magically slowed... and he resumed a normal walking pace, as if he hadn't just leapt off of a two-story building. 

"Report," Tycon saluted with his fist to his chest. 

"Light resistance, cold weapons." The goblin returned the salute. He raised his black goggles and loosened his cloth mask, revealing his green skin and pointed teeth. "Under twenty. Path to the fort has roving bands of ten each... approx. thirty cultists. Same gear." 

Gobsuke pointed down a different alleyway, "One band that way. They're chasing someone, if Quay wants to be a hero."

"Quay always wants to be a hero," Dragan shrugged. 

"Gotta give him a little credit," Zuko rolled his eyes. "He's able to save someone two out of three times."

"Ehhh..." Dragan tilted his head, "I'm thinkin' more like three outta five."

"I. TRY. MY. BEST!!" Quay pointed his finger down at the road indignantly, "Even if my best is out of four."

"Hah! Hahaha!!" Dragan scoffed, "Aaaaand your best gets us in trouble more than Lulu and Horse combined-- no offense, Quay."

"But not more than Dragan and anyone else combined," Zuko smirked. "Offense intended."

The pale elf was willfully avoiding the fact that the most troublesome duo was Dragan paired with Zuko, himself. 

"We'll do it," Tycon nodded, "Quay, you and I: front. Dragan, Zuko: flank. Gobsuke, skyward."

"Whoa," Quay looked stunned. "Deviating from the objective, Tycon? And you want to front-line with me?"

Tycon shrugged, "I'm in the mood to watch you prance about."

"It's called the Blade Dance!" Quay declared proudly, "A most noble and elegant language of battle, which I am totally fluent-- H-hey, wait for me!!"

Tycon sprinted ahead. Behind him, he heard the heavy steps of Dragan, the light steps of Quay and Zuko, and the climbing claws of Gobsuke. 

The current objective was to save lives... but he looked forward to seeing Sol Invictus in action. 

...

"RUNNNNNNNN~ GIRLIE!!!!" A Snake Cultist yelled. 

Fortuna could hear the scraping of metal along the road as she ran for her life. Her tiny legs could only move so fast... and she could barely breathe. But if she stopped... 

She couldn't stop! She had to keep running. 

"Little bugger!" One of them yelled, "Sod it all! Throw the hatchets!!" 

She could barely see the road ahead... her nose and eyes stung from the smoke and her vision was so blurry with tears. But as hard as she tried... this was all she could do. It was all over for her... 

Suddenly, a force... a magical force swept her off her feet. 

"Whoa, calm down." A soothing musical voice whispered, "I got'cha."

Fortuna wiped her eyes to gaze upon the face of... an elf? A pureblooded elf? She had never met her grandparents... was this one of them? 

He had picked her up in one of his arms... and a miracle happened. He spun the weapon in his opposite hand, a long, beautiful Elven sword... and he struck down every single thrown axe and pila that the bad guys threw. 

"Who... who are you?" She asked.

The elf revealed a bright smile... "A hero."

Fortuna's heart raced as she identified the golden sun on his gladiator armor... "Sol... Invictus. You're... you're Quay! Of Sol Invictus!!"

"Now is not the time for romance, Mister Quay," A surly voice scolded. It belonged to another gladiator in flashy muscle-y armor... but it had the same sun symbol and he wore a visored helmet that hid his eyes. "Are you injured, little one?"

"T-tycon!! Th-the Tactician of Sol Invictus!!!" Fortuna screamed. Her heroes... her heroes had come to save her. It was a dream... it was definitely a dream... 

"Oh? Is that what they call me?" Tycon hmphed. 

"Well, the Hero of Sol Invictus is already taken," Quay laughed as he placed Fortuna back on solid ground. 

Fortuna couldn't help but embrace Quay around the waist, burying her face into his stomach, "Mom and dad... they... they..."

"They were... DELICIOUS... Hur hur hurrr..." A Snake Cultist interrupted. The man had no shirt and huge muscles... and blood ran down his chin and chest. 

Fortuna wasn't dreaming. She was having a nightmare. 

Then the nearby building exploded.

It was a monster... a giant, nine-foot tall... red-headed person wearing animal furs... covered in brickdust and laughing like he was crazy. He burst out of the wall and grabbed two Cultists by their heads like they were ragdolls... and he kept running... and smashed into another building on the opposite side of the street.

...

Tycon sighed... "I specifically recall asking Mister Dragan to *flank* the enemies, not to cut through the middle of them."

"Y-yeah," Quay scratched the back of his head. "You did."

"D-dragan?!" The eyes of the pink-haired, half-elf child nearly bulged out of her head. "That was Dragan?! He's so much bigger in person! Y-you guys really are Sol Invictus!"

"In the flesh!" Quay flashed his trademark smile, "--or in the mana-flesh, I think. I'm not really sure, to be honest."

"Tss," Tycon shook his head. "So our reputation precedes us..."

It seemed that in whatever past setting Ananta's Shadow Realm was based in, Sol Invictus was far more easily recognizable. 

"We aren't the number one gladiator guild in the Holy Country for nothin', Ty," Quay grinned. 

"Don't call me that."

"Oh, come on, Tyconnnn~! You always let me call you that!"

"Go... go do something heroic or something," Tycon shooed his guild leader away. "I will protect the whelpling."

"I thought you'd never ask!" Quay drew his other weapon... placing them in a stylistic cross in front of him. 

Why would he think that? It seemed like a normal thing to ask for, considering Quay's personality.