Tycondrius elicited the help of footman Tanamar, real name Athanasius Mors, for Athena Vanzano's ritual. He insisted upon weapons, but not armor. Against attacks powered by frost mana, Tycon doubted the effectiveness of leather and steel protection. He wore more than one layer of clothing, as well as an unnecessarily stylish wool scarf.
The drawn formation took the space of most of the basement vault. The tables and shelves were pushed out of the way and several sections of script and shapes were inscribed onto the stones. Tycon tried to summarize what exactly he'd done with the various sections.
Neither of them seemed to understand even a modicum of his efforts.
It allayed Athena's reservations. Tycon took a miniscule amount of solace in that.
Empty night... He wished they'd understood just how gods-damned hard he worked. Ultimately, however... he was not designing a ritual for praise. The true goal was to aid Athena's breakthrough to Bronze-Rank.
Shao Ran informed me that I had forgotten to post today's chapters...
...My bad, Sea Wolf.