But... Tycondrius... could not throw away his life so easily.
As much as every onze of his being cried out for violence...
--and certain, as he was, that he'd enjoy it immensely...
His goals took precedence.
One punch would not be enough.
(Oh, how lovely would it be, if one punch was all he needed~)
All the lizards in and around Whitehearth needed to die.
--and Tycon needed to remain alive long enough to accomplish that.
"My name is Kas Ki'raak," said the god-lizard. "Tell me, Dragonslayer... have we met prior?"
The battle between Tanamar, Arendelle, and Gon Galdrun still raged on. Cultivators were dying, judging the steady decline of collateral life force and the occasional death rattle.
The shadows remained still-- but no more still than usual.
The Shadow Monarch was not poised to attack.
Dialogue was a viable option.
