Tycon looked down at the mediocre young, silver-haired Martialist, Kimura Taree. Her orange robes would have been impressive, had they not been savaged by thorns and whatever sword-damage her pursuers dealt. He prayed his interrogation would be fruitful, as they often did not.
"Young lady, I'd like a word with you, if convenient," Tycon requested.
Taree tilted her head. The gesture could be considered cute.
"Bumfuzzle!" She exclaimed.
Tycon furrowed his brows, "I'm sorry, what?"
Taree smiled, "You wanted a word! I gave you one!"
Tycon gasped, suddenly troubled. He had been too harsh... "Oh, no. Oh, dear. I'm so very sorry..."
He gently patted the young girl's head, softening his voice, "You're an idiot. I'd like to talk to someone else, please."
Taree puffed up her cheeks and slapped Tycon's hand away, "Whad'ya want?!"
Tycon frowned and rubbed his hand-- it stung, "Tell me more about House Muto's elders."
The girl stared up with wide, clueless eyes... then immediately ran off to wake the blonde boy.
Tycon glared at Bucket, but the boy began reassuring him, "Don't worry, Sir! She's not... always? Rude?"
"Was that a statement or a question?" Tycon crossed his arms, discontent. The recently awakened blonde boy, Kimura Tamaki, was pushed in front of him... assumedly in order to better answer his inquiries.
With a light sigh, Tycon smiled, "You've brought me someone else. You have my thanks, young lady."
Taree stuck out her tongue, making a childish, rude face at Tycon. He glared once more at Bucket.
Bucket stepped up to explain, "Miss Taree, Mister Tamaki, this is Sir Tycon. He's something like... my Boss."
"Oh," Tamaki gave a polite bow. "It's a pleasure to meet'cha, Sir Tycon!"
Tycon nodded his head in return, "Please, Guild Invictus is now contracted by House Kimura. We do not know your customs, but we invite you to treat us as you would any other loyal allies."
...
Taree was shocked. She nudged Pale, "Warrior Pale, what do you mean this guy's your Boss?!"
The sandy-haired boy bared his teeth, unsure how to explain, "Um. Me and Lone are technically trainees. And Boss Tycon is the one in charge."
Taree collapsed onto her hands and knees in despair. In order to get closer to Warrior Pale, she had to get in the good graces of Sir Tycon. He thought she was an idiot! And she had slapped his hand and made faces at him! His first impression of her could barely have been worse!
"Oh, boy," Tamaki was excited. "That means I'm talkin' to the Head Honcho."
...
The blonde boy didn't lower his voice, but Tycon didn't mind. He liked the sound of Head Honcho.
"Warrior Tamaki," Tycon asked, "Would you tell me of the Elders that Warrior Yoshio mentioned?"
Tamaki shook his head, grimly, "Oh, boy, let me tell ya. There's a bunch of elders, and they're all pretty strong for a bunch of old guys. But two of 'em, more 'an anything are the best o' the best... They call 'em Old Ghosts, 'cuz they're so old, nobody knows how old they are!"
Tycon rested upon Bucket's leather-bound knife-log to listen. Bucket looked like he wanted to say something, but didn't.
Tamaki continued, "Now, Old Ghost Bakura, he's a master of formations and dark curses! Enemies of House Muto would jus' get sick and die! Or they'd turn impotent overnight! And they'd say it was all due to Old Ghost Bakura's meddlin'!
"Old Ghost Tetsudo, though, now he's a mean old geezer. He disappeared after the Ivory Judge sect exiled him a huuuundred years ago, but he came back after his sentence was up-- He was known for being extra-ordinarily cruel in combat, able to crush a man's bones into powder just by swingin' his club!"
Tycon nodded, "Thank you, Warrior Tamaki... My next question is... why do the two of you seem unconcerned?"
Tamaki smiled, "Well, that's the thing. The Old Ghosts don't move for just about anybody. As long as that's that, we've got nothin' to--"
Laughter erupted from behind them, and the group turned to see the battered, laughing form of Yoshio. "You fools!? Both Old Ghosts Bakura AND Tetsudo are coming for your lives! They were notified as soon as Young Master Hisato left the sect! Don't you see?!? You will all DIE! Painfully! Without whole corpses! The two Old Ghosts of House Muto will make CERTAIN OF IT!"
Tycon glanced over to the blonde young man, "Warrior Tamaki, can we kill that one?"
Tamaki turned to Taree, "Whad'ya think, Coach?"
Taree stood up in a flash and tried to smooth out the wrinkles in her tattered robes. Suddenly nervous, her voice dropped to a lower pitch, but she stumbled around her words, awkwardly, "Warrior Tycon, I feel that-- that Young Master Hisato is... too important to kill-- Oh! He's the son of Elder Chudo-- but--"
Tycon knelt down to pat the poor, stupid girl's head, "It's alright, little one. I understand."
The silver-haired girl puffed up her cheeks indignantly.
Tamaki raised an open palm, "Warrior Tycon, we should get goin'. We wouldn't wanna be caught by those Old Ghosts."
Tycon raised an eyebrow, "Oh, it's unfortunate, Warrior Tamaki. With the way you described those Old Ghosts-- we can't leave."
Without wasting words to explain, Tycon yelled out, "Mister Wroe! Mister Dragan!!"
The two Kimura kids looked confused until Bucket explained that Sir Tycon was calling for their companions.
Tarquin Wroe was the first to arrive, stepping out of the shadows like a young, ethereal spirit. He saluted with a palm to his chest, "Boss."
Tycon returned the salute, "Mister Wroe. I sent you to look for any potential threats. Have you found any?"
The tall, blue-haired man tilted his head, a bit too much, "Oho? I did find one. He wished to see Her glory. I showed him the barest of Her shadow."
"Old guy?" Tycon asked.
"Old guy," Wroe confirmed.
"Anything left of the body?"
Wroe nodded, smilingly, "Bits and pieces. Here and there."
Hm. That effectively meant 'no.'
"Mister Dragan!" Tycon shouted.
As if to answer, a severed forearm fell from a tree, landing beside Yoshio. The white-haired boy screamed, scrambling away from it. Then a severed hand beaned Yoshio in the head.
Bucket swung his metal staff, deflecting... what appeared to be a man's... severed genitalia.
Dragan, the red-headed half-giant leaped down from the treetops, landing powerfully onto one of Yoshio's legs, making the boy emit a shrill, bloodcurdling scream. The impact was easily enough to turn the white-haired boy's bones into powder.
Dragan looked down and feigned surprise, "Oh no, your leg! My bad!"
He looked around in shock. Smiling in embarrassment, he placed a severed leg (that he somehow conveniently had) into Yoshio's arms, tapping him lightly on the cheek, "Here, man, have another one. The other guy doesn't need it anymore."
Dragan began walking back to Tycon and company, ignoring Yoshio's anguished moans of agony, all while laughing loudly at his own comedy. He rendered an informal salute to Tycon.
Tycon returned the salute, "Report, if you would, Mister Dragan."
"Ehh, some old guy attacked me," The Titanblood shrugged.
"And the results, Mister Dragan?"
"He kept talking about crushing my bones to dust, so I cut off all his limbs," Dragan hefted his black-metal greataxe for emphasis.
"Ironic."
"I know, right?"
"Very good. Well done, Mister Wroe. Mister Dragan. Young Bucket has gained us a contract for a wealthy family and all of our enemies have been soundly defeated. For today's victory, I propose we consume some of our alcohol rations."
Wroe, Dragan, and even Bucket cheered in excitement.
...
Tamaki grinned and elbowed his sister, "Pretty good deal we got, eh, Coach?"
Taree was still in shock that the two trump cards of the Muto family had been taken care of so easily. Could... All of the Ivory Judge sect's problems be solved by Guild Invictus?