478 We Killed Your Boss

"Ah, Mister Lone..." Tycon looked over as if he hadn't noticed him. 

"So you're Lone!" Dragan exclaimed, "EYYYYY!!"

Lone returned Dragan's pointing, "That's me! EYYYY!" 

Tycon furrowed his brows, "Mister Dragan, do you even know who this man is?"

"NOT A CLUE!!"

Wait. That didn't make sense? Dragan definitely knew who he was? 

"Right..." Tycon turned back to him. "Mister Lone, start making your way through the catacombs with Mister Raphael... and take Bannok with you, if he's willing. 

"Find the underground river. Defend it until the rest of the Brazen Guard arrive. Escape."

"Alright... Got it, Boss..." He nodded, clenching his fist in confidence, "But how will I get there from here?"

Lone saw it in slow motion-- Tycon's hand reaching out to grab his forehead. But instead of a face-crushing grip, he felt... nothing. 

He was back in that dull, green cave... standing next to Raphael. He was a bit roughed up, but alive. Sweet. 

It looked like the one-armed Bannok had collapsed on the ground beside them-- still breathing, at least. Lone guessed he wouldn't have to worry about whether or not he was willing. 

"Lord Ranger..." Raphael grinned sheepishly, "Shall we get to... the Baron's task?"

"Um... Yeah," Lone scratched his head, "Let's go, I guess."

...

Karodin of Emberhold breathed a sigh of relief. 

Tactician Tycon had arrived to save the Brazen Guard once again, with what appeared to be Gold-Rank reinforcements... and in a flashy, new set of armor, too! 

The symbol they wore on their armor looked familiar... Karodin couldn't place where he'd seen it before, but it was definitely Tyrion in nature. 

With each wave of his hand, the Tactician was making members of the Brazen Guard blink out of the fiery battlefield-- assumedly returning them to the Halls of the Dead Serpent. 

Karodin trusted the guy... It did look really suspicious, though, how much enjoyment he was getting out of smacking their allies atop the head. 

"Master Tactician," Ptolema nodded. "You couldn't have come at a better time."

"I'm going to assume the intention behind your words is politeness rather than accuracy, Miss Ptolema," The helmeted Tycon responded... "How is... your body?"

Ptolema rolled her eyes, "Just take me back, Tactician. I'm tired of this place."

Tycon currently wore only a half-helmet, so Karodin could see the man purse his lips. 

"...Very well," He pressed two gloved fingers against Ptolema's forehead and she... just disappeared. 

It was really strange that there wasn't a magical flash of some sort. Karodin scratched the back of his helmet. That's what he was used to. 

"Mister Karodin," Tycon reared his hand back for a slap-- 

Karodin winced, holding his shield up, reflexively, "Wait! Wait! I'll go last!"

"Hmm." The Tactician tilted his head, "Sensible. With Duelist Ptolema ahead, you can cover me as I send off the rest of our allies. Thank you, Mister Karodin."

"N-no problem, Sir Tycon," Karodin laughed uneasily. 

When the Tactician had thrown his sword scabbard at him, earlier... it felt like he got hit by a speeding carriage. He was fine taking hits from the heretics... but he didn't want to take another blow from Tycon if he could help it. 

...

⟬ Invictus score: 222 kills. Zuko: 92 kills. Quay: 41 assists. ⟭ 

« System, change setting: Add the category for highest number of solo kills to the score. »

⟬ Setting change complete. Tycon: 38 solo kills. ⟭ 

It took less than twenty minutes for Tycondrius to forcibly eject the various members of the Brazen Guard collective from the Shadow Realm. 

With the members of Sol Invictus keeping the Snake Cultists at bay and Karodin of Emberhold defending him from ranged fire, he worked in relative safety. 

Priestess Ariadne seemed disinterested in speaking with him. He drew an inordinate amount of satisfaction from stealthily approaching her from behind and Shadowfang Slapping the woman in the side of the head. 

As soon as his enchanted hand achieved person-to-person contact, they would return to the Halls of the Dead Serpent instantaneously. However, the mere action of winding-up his arm and swinging at his foolish coworkers relieved his general frustration. 

For whatever reason, when it came Karodin's turn, the Legionnaire actively resisted. Tycon strung together a low kick to a collar-grab, then had to open the young man's guard with a helm-to-helm bash before he was able to send him back.

"There���s no end to themmmm!!!" Quay yelled from nearby. 

"Why you complaining, bud? AhahHAHA!" Dragan cackled as he grabbed two cultists. 

The Titanblood smashed their faces together so hard, one of their eyes popped out of its socket. 

Tycon winced in disgust. 

"It's a one-sided slaughter!" Dragan grinned, tossing the corpses at yet another cadre of approaching cultists. "Have some FUN with it!"

"It just-- it just doesn't make any sense!" Quay whined. 

"Have you tried to reason with these ladies and gentlemen?" Tycon offered.

Quay rushed forward, facing off against a tall, green-painted cultist wielding two axes, "Hey! HEY YOU!! Why are you still fighting?! We already KILLED YOUR BOSS!! There's no reason to fight, any longer!!"

The Cultist reared his head back, stunned in surprise, "You... you did?"

"YEAH, WE DID!!" Quay grinned. He looked back to Tycon and Dragan with an arrogant, 'I have convincingly proved you wrong' look. 

The Cultist scratched the back of his head with his handaxe, "Oh... oh, wow... I'm really sorry..."

Quay's smile fell, "Oh-- oh, no. It's fine. It's just--"

"--that you think I GIVE A SHITE!!" The cultist roared, hacking towards the elf with his weapons. 

Quay ducked and dodged the attacks, "Wait! Hold on! Let's talk about this!"

"You might've killed my leader, but SHE AIN'T ME!!! I'll kill YOU ALL, MYSELF!!!" 

A gunshot resounded in the distance from Gobsuke's position. The axe-cultist fell onto his knees, leaving behind a misty spray of blood. 

He was an Unranked Warrior-- a shot from the goblin's Turathi rifle through the skull was... excessive. 

"I-- I had it," Quay pouted, gazing melancholically in Gobsuke's direction... 

[Pay attention,] the goblin signaled back.