The Rhodoks stood in front of a Snake Cult shrine, faded murals painted on the walls. A table of rotting wood on a raised stone dais may have once held scores of offerings... What remained was a few decrepit ivory and stone idols, burnt out wax candles, and cracked, empty bowls.
Justus held his breath. He had no idea that his thoughtless question would offend Gold-Rank Healer Fortuna.
"I'm sorry, ma'am, I had no idea that--"
"No," She waved. "It happened a long time ago-- back when Cyrac's beard was black."
Justus furrowed his eyebrows, turning back to the Centurion.
"Though the comparison was a bit demeaning, it's true." Cyrac pursed his lips, gesturing with an open palm. "Lady Fortuna may not look it, but she's been part of the Rhodoks for a very long time."
Sixtus nodded, "She's probably the second oldest--"
Fortuna had unsheathed a small dagger.
"--st carving... and... painting techniques I've ever seen," Sixtus awkwardly changed his statement. "I am talking about the cultist's murals. They are not very good."
The Optio went from observing the murals to inspecting the various clay bowls and snuffed-out candles, touching them with the tip of his pilum. There was an element of caution in his actions, not touching anything with his bare hands.
Fortuna twisted her lips, putting her weapon away, "The Snake Cult is an ancient organization birthed when the Tyrion Empire was young. The Church declared them eliminated some 50 years ago, but... such a thing doesn't die so easily."
Her eyes grew glossy as she spoke, "My parents were killed in a cultist raid, thirty years ago. They had an Iron-Rank Warlock with them... Our village had no chance."
It was as if she was talking about a girl that wasn't herself.
Justus grimaced and nodded in understanding, "May I ask what a Warlock is, Lady Fortuna?"
The woman sighed, "It's a heretical class that makes up the Snake Cult elite. The Warlocks and their kin follow tenets that propagate murder, cruelty, and oppression. And in exchange for their evil deeds... they draw power from the void beyond, wielding dark, eldritch, and nigh-uncontrollable energies."
Justus felt an unease deep in the pit of his stomach. The way that sounded... was like a perversion of their own nation's heroes. The Tyrions followed tenets, good and just, for the wellbeing of all peoples. The most faithful, Scholars, Priests, and Champions gained the blessing of the Eternal Flame and were able to call forth divine, holy power against the enemies of mankind.
His own Holy Swordsman class was unique to worshippers of the Flame... but the only difference between him and the Warlocks... seemed to be their choice of deity.
...But why would other humans worship something they knew was evil? There must have been something he was missing.
Justus couldn't voice any of those thoughts aloud. Even thinking about them was... both heretical and treasonous. Every Tyrion citizen was urged to report heretics to be arrested-- or killed on the spot.
"Fortuna--" Optio Sixtus interrupted his thoughts, "I request your 'expert' opinion at what we should do with the Snake Cult shrine and paraphernalia."
The Healer closed her eyes and took a deep breath, "Their very existence is a mockery to everything we stand for."
She opened her eyes, alight with a silver mana-glow, "Purge it in righteous fire."
...
Tycondrius skulked around in the darkness, taking several twists and turns before arriving in a familiar area. Had he not had the System guiding him, he wouldn't have gone out of his way, for fear of getting lost.
The dim light from his sword enchantment illuminated an elongated reinforced gear chest. A massive opal eye glinted in the shadows, the size of a human head. It watched over him, unblinking and silent.
Tycon unlatched the box, first finding his familiar halberd. He unwrapped the oilskin covering the blade. Wonderful. It didn't rust, even after the moons he'd been gone and in the cave's humidity.
He spoke aloud, "Eight humans in the cave. Twenty outside. Thirty-seven at the base of the mountain."
"Whaaaat...?" A rumbling voice in the darkness spoke, slow and unhurried. "Is... that all?"
"That's what's left." Tycon pursed his lips and shrugged, rewrapping the halberd and placing it aside. He inspected his hand-crossbow... it hadn't degraded either. Excellent.
ραпdα Йᴏνê|(сòm) He unstoppered a vial of poison, smearing it on a bolt's tip, "They think there's a dragon in the cave."
"Thaaat's ridiculous... Dragons don't exist..." The voice in the darkness grew agitated. "And should they dare... they'll have a gods. damned. war. on their miserable, clawed haaaands...."
Tycon chuckled, winding the crossbow's firing mechanism and loading the poisoned bolt, "Haha. Too true..."
...
Decanus Justus sighed. After they destroyed the Snake Cult's profaned shrine, it felt like his fatigue began to mount. It should have been the opposite-- they, as Tyrions, should have regained their spirits. Instead, it felt like a chore-- like clearing cobwebs or polishing armor.
After they moved on, they were greeted by the visored Duplicarius Zehr. He sat on a rock in plain view, resting a glowing blade against his shoulder.
Optio Sixtus approached him, "Brother-Zehr, give us your report."
Though Zehr had received a new honorific, there was no change in his expression as he stood and saluted, "Optio, the room ahead is a spacious area with many pathways."
The Optio frowned... "And you've returned because... you don't know which to choose?"
Zehr glanced back at the passage he had emerged from, before looking back to Sixtus, "I would prefer to stay with the group."
"Very well. Fall in line," Sixtus nodded.
As the Duplicarius sheathed his sword and rejoined their ranks, Centurion Cyrac gave him a friendly smile, "Any sign of enemies?"
Zehr shrugged... admittedly noncommittal in his response, "If there are, they hide in the shadows... and well."
Justus nodded to his friend in acknowledgment, who returned the nod with the briefest of smiles.
"I-if you're going to stand next to me, no holding my hand again!!" Fortuna yelped.
Justus furrowed his brow, "Duplicarius Zehr was holding your hand?"
The Healer's face reddened. Now the whole tent-group knew.
Zehr took his place next to Fortuna without saying a word. The Rhodoks continued down the passageway, led by Optio Sixtus.
That was normal of him, but still, Justus decided to do as Gianna once did and ask preemptively, "Zehr... Is there anything wrong?"
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