Tycondrius sank into thought, considering the refusal.
...He had been too hasty. If he were thinking clearly, he would have known not to openly give a task that could be seen as dishonorable.
He rubbed his temples, frustrated that a woman-- of all things, could make him distraught for so long.
"Hmph," Tycon grimaced. "Granted. Thunder God, accompany the Captain. Spare only the lives of those you find worthy."
Morality was not a weakness. It could be likened to a shield, protecting the two from the worst injustices the Realm had to offer.
...Still, that was no excuse to complete a task halfway.
He would send Ishmael after them in secret. The Venomous Shadow would do what Krysaos and the Thunder God could not-- and without affecting their pride.
"My thanks, Maedar," The Thunder God nodded, pleased with the illusion of honor he kept intact, "And, I entreat thee, dear friend: my heavenly name is--"
