It was Lulu.
With Sasarame's help, Tycondrius discovered that Lulu, the missing Invictus member, was the one who placed a protective seal on his soul.
The seal was cast at the Fourth-Circle. Logically, that meant that Lulu was a specialized Third-Circle caster or even a Second-Circle caster with access to a powerful ritual...
Or it meant she was a Fourth-Circle caster... Tycon shuddered at the thought. Such a caster could conjure walls of flame that consumed armies, kill men with a glance, or literally control people's minds.
The memories unlocked by Sasarame's Oracle-abilities were hazy... but Tycon had remembered a reliable way to find the missing Lulu, once they reached the mainland.
In the morning, he headed out to find Lang Hai and to gather Guild Invictus.
...
A crowd had been gathered, consisting of Guild Invictus and of the men and women recovered from the Saltspray Keep.
Previously, the would-be slaves wore tattered scraps, miserable pallors, and the marks of maltreatment. Currently, they wore proper cloth tunics and trousers, had regained color in their cheeks and were returned a sense of dignity and resolve.
High-Captain Lang Hai addressed them, utilizing his artificially deep 'Captain's voice'...
"Tomorrow morning, we will be sending a ship to return to the mainland. The Sea Wolf fleet will provide you with enough fare for the caravan trip to Beaurte city-proper."
Sergeant Jacque echoed the Captain's words in the Kingdom's Old Language-- some of the older farmers and potters preferred it over the common tongue. Many of the citizens wiped tears of relief from their eyes as they listened to their words.
"The villainous oppress the weak. You have seen the results.
"The Kingdom's Royal Navy has done its best to recover you... but know this: You were lucky.
"There are many who did not survive. You have bore witness to it."
"And out there..." Hai waved his hand at the sea, "There are many more, just like you, still praying to be saved."
The Captain solemnly gazed at his audience, allowing his words to sink into their hearts.
"We Sea Wolves shall continue to fight against injustice, just as all those who have vowed an oath to protect the Kingdom and its citizens.
"Return to the mainland. Move on with your lives. Citizens are the lifeblood of our Kingdom-- your hopes and dreams, your crafts and trade... your children and their children."
As short as Lang Hai was, the crowd looked to him with pride and gratefulness.
"I have seen your bravery, sons and daughters of the Kingdom. You must live on, prouder, stronger for this... And if you cannot return to your lives, if you desperately need the strength to defend those who were once like you...
The boy-Captain scoffed, arrogant, yet charming. He spoke without raising his voice, but the crowd held their breaths, so they could hear him.
"The Marines of Beaurte will welcome you."
The crowd was silent before a young man stepped forward, "I... I wish to join."
Slowly, a trickle of young and adult men and women stepped forward, claiming the same. Hai nodded in acceptance and directed Lieutenant Eilean to handle their procedures.
...
"I don't like it," Lone crossed his arms, seated on a barrel. "It's like we saved all those people only for Captain Lang to recruit them."
"It's valid." Tycon shook his head, "It's a mutual relationship. Lang Hai gets more Marines. The civilians stave away nightmares of being taken away by slavers."
Guild Invictus had collected on a scenic cliff overlooking the treacherous beaches. They were having a picnic.
Lone looked extraordinarily tired. Wroe and Pale were munching on sandwiches made earlier in the sun. Sasarame, as usual, was in her snake-form and hiding within Tycon's cloak.
Lone pursed his lips, "They could just get stronger."
Tycon sighed and gave a gentle smile, "Most people do not know how to become strong. It's easy to learn how to lift a barrel. It's far more difficult to look into the eyes of a sentient creature and slice their throats, knowing they could easily do the same."
Tycon took the bottle of tea he had prepared, refilling his and Wroe's empty cup, "You were lucky, Mister Lone. Strength came naturally to you."
Lone grew quiet while Pale pat his back reassuredly.
Wroe swallowed a bite and drank some tea before tilting his head, "You did get a lot stronger after you joined Invictus, though."
"Lone, you even beat an Iron-Rank!" Pale nodded excitedly, "Could you do that before?"
"Well, no..." Lone admitted.
Lone did what? That was difficult to believe.
He shook his head of the thought and continued on the topic, "The Beaurte Marines are an institutionalized school of combat, rooted in tradition, and shaped by modern warfare... And with Sea Wolf Hidden Sect's Lang Hai as its leading figure, the fleet is as effective as a Sect."
Lone grimaced, "The Sea Wolves are... really strong. But aren't they cursed?"
Tycon shrugged, "I have discussed this with Lang Hai. It is the reason the Beaurte Marine fleet remains a very small organization compared to the Royal Navy it belongs to-- and even other fleets of Royal Marines...
"Nearly 1 in 4 recruits fail their training, many of them becoming injured or killed. The Sea Wolf Body Art imparted by the Lang Hai has alleviated their casualty rate in recent years, but it irrevocably affects each Marine's psyche and intrinsically forces each of them to live close to the ocean."
"But as you said," Tycon sighed, "The Sea Wolves *are* quite strong... Lone, Pale, tell me what you think of their training?"
Lone shivered, "I hate my life every time we go out. I've never been yelled at so much since I was born..."
With some hesitation, he mumbled in a minuscule voice, "and, and... I don't want to fight ghosts anymore."
Pale averted his gaze, "It's... pretty hard."
Tycon nodded to the boy, "Pale, you're staying here to complete the Sea Wolf training."
Pale opened his mouth to argue... but thought better of it.
Tycon continued, "I have asked Lang Hai to have you undergo officer's training. The more leadership skills you learn, the more beneficial it will be for you as a guild leader."
Pale smiled weakly, "Um. Okay..."
Tycon glared.
The boy sat up with his back straight, "Y-yes, Sir."
Lone stood up, worried, "Wait, just a second, Boss! Officer training is harder than the normal training!?"
Tycon narrowed his eyes. That was obvious, "I wouldn't have it any other way."
"Wait, I don't understand! You sent Dragan and Taree away and now we're ditching Pale?"
"Yes, and Mister Wroe, as well," Tycon replied simply.
Lone held his head in panic, "Wh-what?! Why?"
Tycon crinkled his brows, "Because Pale can heal himself from injuries and Mister Wroe needs to instruct the Beaurte magicians on how to raise the Unfortunate and utilize its crew..."
"You can count on me, Boss," Wroe smiled radiantly.
Pale clenched his fist, "I won't let you down, Sir."
Tycon pat Lone on the shoulder, "You're welcome to stay here, but unless you train the Sea Wolf Body Art to at least Minor Completion-- you'll probably die."
Lone sighed and bit his lower lip, "Okay... I'll go with you, Boss... So it's just you and me?"
Tycon raised an eyebrow, "Nonsense, young man. It will be you, myself, Sasha, and Mister Wolfrider-- a solid party of four."
Sasarame shyly remained hidden in Tycon's dark hood, unwilling to reveal herself.
Lone, Pale, and Wroe shared worried glances.
"Ahem... is... there something wrong with Wolfbanger?" Tycon twisted his lips to the side.
Pale had an especially troubled look, "Um... After the Unfortunate sank, we realized we had left Wolfbanger on the ship."