934 The Sum of its Parts

"Ah," Wroe nodded. "Got it, Boss."

Tycondrius' gaze drifted upward in thought. 

It would be wise to set some coin aside to commission Hexblade-related ⌈Decursify⌋ Scrolls. As Wroe was the only Hexblade in Sol Invictus, it was natural that he pay for the brunt of it. 

"Wait-- what? You're docking my PAY?! Boss!??"

Fourth-Circle Scrolls like ⌈Heavenly Cleansing⌋ were impossible to craft in bulk without the help of a literal god. However, Tycon was confident in creating a Second-Circle variant, one tailored to dispel Wroe's abilities. 

"BOSS!! What does-- but why??"

Company salary was something controlled by his Chief Financial Officer, Sorina Capulet. She would arrive in Whitehearth in the near future. There, they would discuss that matter and other things. 

"Boss! Tycon! PLEASE!!"

Granted... he still had to survive the onslaught of the Tree God's minions to have a future to speak of. 

"Y-you're my only source of income!!"