Needless Slaughter

The following sun, Tycon assigned a new block of training for Taree and Levi in martial weapon versatility. Tycon was the instructor. Levi suffered greatly.

Dragan opted to watch Levi's trials and tribulations, leaving Lone and Pale to train by themselves.

Lone explained his predicament to Pale, "So, I wanna use mana in my attacks-- like I want to use a real Skill."

Pale nodded in understanding, "Like Sir Tycon's 'Iron Dragon Rend' and Mister Wroe's 'Eldritch Blast'?"

"Right, and your 'Crashing Thunder'."

Pale hiked in a cloth robe instead of a spearman's leathers. His crimson Lifedrinker spear almost looked like a mage's staff, so the half-elven boy looked unquestionably wizard-y. Boss Tycon hadn't corrected the boy yet... so Lone decided not to say anything.

He'd already unintentionally made Levi's and Taree's training into "hard-mode." If he opened his dumb mouth, the training would probably worsen for both himself and Pale.

Pale stood at rest, hugging his spear with crossed arms, "Well, I can only use Crashing Thunder when Taree's around. I think Boss called it a Combination Skill?"

Combination Skill. Lone didn't think he had any chance of learning that, "How about Wroe's Movement Skill?"

Pale disappeared in a silvery mist and appeared in the same spot in a combat pose, "You mean that?"

Lone hopped up in both surprise and excitement, "Yeah!! How do I attack like that?"

Pale poked Lone with the bottom of his spear, "Hyah?"

Lone stared blankly.

Pale shrugged, "I dunno, Lone! Why did Boss tell you to work with me instead of Mister Dragan, anyway?"

Lone rubbed his hair with both hands in frustration, "I dunno either! I should have known you didn't have any other offensive Skills!"

Pale's face lit up, "Oh, wait!"

He ran over to a nearby tree. What was he doing?

A red aura of flames licked the trees around Pale. The boy knelt, smashing the bottom of his spear into the ground, "Magnum BREAK!!"

In a fiery fwoosh, the bark of the tree was charred like it had been lit on fire. And just as quickly, the scarlet mana dissipated.

Pale ran back. Lone still had yet to close his mouth from the ridiculous display of power.

"So a Skill like that? Ehehe." Pale grinned.

...

« System, directions: Port City Caractere. »

[Calculating route... 10 bells and 48 minutes.]

Tycon examined the transparent map his System provided. He was trying to decide if he wanted a bed to sleep in and a roof over his head or to save a few coins and camp a few hours outside of Caractere.

It was nice out. Levi was able to hunt for the decently plentiful wild game, so the trip wasn't terrible. He keenly felt the loss of Kimura Tamaki, but from what Tycon had heard, the boy died an honorable death.

"B-b-boss..." The dog-eared boy approached warily.

Tycon mentally closed his System's transparent displays before examining the young Warden. White-furred, floppy-eared, and permanently wearing a pitiful expression, the young Mister Levi Wolfrider wrung his hands patiently.

Slightly troubled, Tycon forced a smile. It still bothered him that the young man was "affectionately" called Wolfbanger by Mister Dragan.

"Mister Levi, report."

Levi hesitated before rendering a salute, "There's a merchant caravan ahead being attacked. Should we... should we go around?"

"Hmm," Tycon pondered it. "No harm in taking a look. Inform everyone that we're approaching to observe."

Levi allowed himself a shy smile, "Are we gonna rob the robbers, Boss?"

Tycon smirked, "Keep your mind open, pup. If the situation calls for it, we might just rob them all."

...

Tycon crossed his arms. Smoke. Bodies. Destruction. Carnage.

"Empty night. Are you serious?"

Over 20 men were looting the merchant caravan. Bodies of men and women littered the floor, mostly noncombatants. A painfully small number of clothes-torn women were bound as prisoners.

"Who the BLAZES are you?" A bandit yelled. He wore tattered salt-stained trousers and was missing a great deal of teeth. They all wore salt-stained clothing.

Tycon sighed. He didn't feel like wasting time on fools, "Who's your boss?"

"EHH?! YOU WANNA TALK TO DA CAPTAIN?!" The bandit yelled. Or was he a pirate? The pirate yelled.

Tycon tilted his head up, allowing his voice to project, "Wrong answer. Who wants it?"

Taree, the silver-haired maid, emerged from a bush, cheerfully raising her hand, "Ooh! Ooh! Me, Boss!!"

Tycon didn't bother turning back, "Two strikes. Dealer's choice. You will be rated."

"You got it, Boss!" Taree stepped towards the man with her opposite knee lifted up. Like a shot, she delivered a side kick to the man's knee, snapping the man's leg in the opposite direction. She pirouetted around with her foot raised above her head and axed it down on the fallen man, breaking his opposite clavicle.

"Five points," Tycon said as he walked off.

"Yasss!" Taree cheered.

Pale emerged from a bush and exchanged a high-five with the girl.

"Alright, try number 2. Which one of you lot is The Captain?" Tycon raised his voice. The display of violence seemed to have garnered everyone's attention.

"That would be me," A smart-looking bearded man walked out, wielding two smoking cylindrical weapons in his hands.

The dog eared Levi emerged from a bush and slinked to Tycon's side, "Boss, that guy is wielding pistols. They're a dangerous weapon, even for us Metal Rankers."

"I'm vaguely familiar with them. Thank you for the warning, Mister Levi," Tycon nodded.

"You there, Captain. What's the meaning of this?" Tycon opened his arms.

The merchant's carriages all had a semblance of fire damage. No less than a dozen civilians were dead from sword or projectile wounds. The only ones left relatively untouched were 3 terrified, young humans, (assumedly female.)

"So you fancy yourself a hero, knight?" the bearded man snarled.

Tycon had eschewed his dark cloak for the silvery armor he wore in Merylsward. Since Dragan was resting, he volunteered to be the big, shiny Metal Ranker that attracted attention.

"Quite the opposite. If anything, I'm rather annoyed with the needless carnage."

"Because if you-- Eh?" The Captain hesitated in confusion.

The other bandits, approaching holding knives, scimitars, and ropes all halted their advance.

"You killed all these merchants. Why didn't you... demand a payment?" Tycon asked seriously.

The Captain grit his teeth, "So we could rob them for all they were worth!! Ain't that right, boys?!?"

The bandits started to cheer-- "Yeah, that's right!" "Cap'n always treats us the best!" "We're ruthless bastards!!"

Tycon raised his palms in disbelief, "You could have charged them a road tax, so they could go on their way, make more money, and on their way back you could tax them again."

Tycon sighed, "It's the difference between banditry and murder. Banditry gets a warning posted along the roads. Murder garners the attention of guilds, bounty hunters, and Kingdom knights."

The bandits put their arms back down.

One of the bandits looked over, "Cap'n... Is that true?"