Headed by a Snake

Still standing on the stairwell, Tycondrius looked down and nodded sagely, "You're very welcome, young lady."

Athena's gratitude lifted his spirits slightly. It was nice to be thanked-- even if he had to more-or-less request it.

"You tried to kill her, dude!" Tanamar shouted.

This much was true. Tycon hadn't held back with his last attack, fully trusting in Athena's capabilities to survive. Of course, if he wanted to kill her for certain, he would have used a skill or attacked her while she was completely unaware.

"Miss Athena is obviously not dead," Tycon groaned. "I don't understand why you're so upset."

"Sir Tycon?" Athena shyly approached the stairs, "Can... can we keep fighting? I still have a lot of mana and it feels... uncomfortable."

Tycon grimaced. It was a reasonable request. The more mana she expended, the easier it would circulate through her body after a rest period. It was imperative, of course, that she not exhaust her mana reserves or receive a critical injury.

He sat upon the steps and snuggled deeper into his cloak and stylish scarf, "Fight Tanamar."

The white-haired footman's eyes furrowed, revealing a hint of panic, "Wait, what?"

"Tss," Tycon scoffed. "As long as the young lady can use her mana, there's no difference in her choice of combat opponent."

"Well, yeah..." Tanamar scratched his cheek, "But that..."

"Come on, Tanamar! Let's fight!" Athena grinned happily, bouncing up and down in her usual glee.

The footman glared back to Tycon, before his expression changed to helplessness, "There's some issues with that... and you know about it."

Tycon surmised that there were two things the young man could be referring to. The first was his unwillingness to hurt Athena. Tycon decided this was a non-issue. Tanamar was smart enough to not use lethal attacks. During previous bouts, he often used the blunt side of his holy lance for this reason.

The second was Athena's subconscious inability to use lethal force on Tanamar-- even going as far as to warn the latter to the dangers of her attacks.

That was simple enough to solve.

Tycon smirked, "Miss Athena, I wonder if Tanamar is a poor opponent... as I suspect you are romantically interested in him."

Athena's chill-touched face blazed a pinkish red, "H-he... what?! No. I-- what?! He's not-- I'm not!"

Tycon shrugged, standing up, "If you hold back your attacks against him, then perhaps it would be better if I were to--"

"⌈FROZEN ORB!!!⌋" Athena yelled. Placing her hands together, she hurled a frozen sphere half her size at her manservant.

Tycon gulped. The white, spinning orb of frost magic looked reminiscent of Zenon's deadly, ⌈Wind Spheres⌋. Worse, the orb also launched sharpened blasts of frost mana as it traveled.

Had he just sentenced Tanamar to death?

Tanamar retreated, dodging ice blasts, ⌈Frost Lances⌋, and another cast of the area-attack ⌈Icicle Fall.⌋

Should he intervene? He didn't want to stop the fight... Athena was attacking with... somehow more fervor and seriousness than against him.

...Tycon also considered just... leaving.

The Holy Lancer threw himself out of the way of a particularly deadly-looking mana icicle. Sloppily rolling along the cold dungeon stones, he came to a stop, resting his face flat on the floor.

"If I lose, I'll get yelled at. If I win, I get yelled at," Tanamar grumbled. "What the hells am I supposed to do?"

Tycon pursed his lips, feeling a bit guilty. Social effects aside, Athena expended more mana fighting against two people consecutively rather than just one.

He raised his voice to encourage the bedraggled footman from the safety of the stairwell, "Cheer up! We'll get dinner after this-- I'll inform Zenon you two are exempt from evening training."

Tanamar pushed himself back to his feet, discontent clear in his eyes.

Tycon shrugged in apology. That was the best he could offer.

Athena summoned another ⌈Frost Blade⌋ above her head, the mana composition far more condensed than her previous one. She took less time to form it... and with its smaller size, swung it nearly as fast as she swung a corporeal blade.

The footman was forced to block the attack with a swipe of his holy lance, but... her ⌈Frost Blade⌋ shattered. The mana remnants levitated, spinning rapidly around the two of them.

Tycon smirked. He had seen the tactic before... in Tanamar's ⌈Scatter Lance⌋ skill. If he guessed correctly, the icy debris would fall upon her footman, stunning him and leaving him vulnerable to follow-up attacks.

Athena smiled innocently... like a cruel child about to tear off the wings of an insect, "⌈Frost Tornado.⌋"

...That didn't sound right. Tycon expected her to name the skill Scatter Sword or... Frost Scatter.

The glass-like shards of ice began to whirl around, quickly picking up speed.

Oh.

Tanamar was battered repeatedly by the spinning shards, dozens of superficial cuts appearing on his body. Tycon considered intervening... but he judged the attack only capable of grievously wounding the young man.

He'd live.

Eventually, Tanamar was forced to kneel, slamming his holy lance against the dungeon stone, dispelling the attack.

"Oh, no! By the Flame! Tanamar! Oh, nooooo!" Athena rushed over, panicking, "Are you okay?"

"Y-y... yeah. I'm just... gonna... gonna... sit here," Tanamar's body slightly lurched forward. Righting himself, he audibly gulped... before smiling reassuringly. He did not reveal his teeth.

Tycon suspected that the young man had spat out blood due to internal bruising. He held back, in order to save face... and to avoid worrying his young mistress.

"Well, that's enough of that," Tycon stood up and began walking down the stairs. "Mister Tanamar, you're dismissed. Head back upstairs, if you would."

Quickly nodding, the footman used what was left of his strength to quickly escape up the stairs.

Athena was left behind, staring at his back in disbelief, "Is he... is he gonna be okay?"

Tycon smiled politely as he racked his mental capacities, searching for a plausible excuse, "Perhaps... he was excited for... evening training? You know how he is."

"But... but he looked--"

"He'll probably be fine," Tycon shrugged.