Headed by a Snake

Magic, strangling hair. The concept was not unfamiliar to Tycondrius.

Even from a young age, medusa females could utilize their hair as a weapon and could easily strangle a Bronze-Ranker to death. Upon entering adulthood, they could also magically transform their hair into snake-heads capable of delivering venomous strikes capable of disabling Iron-Rankers.

Medusa women were terrifying to humans... which was unfortunate for the latter, as the species propagated through medusa and human couplings.

"Margeaux?! What are you doing???!" Barza Keith, the Lone Shadowdark, cried out, "Are you CHEATING ON ME???"

Tycondrius, having his thought processes completely derailed. completely dropped his guard. He turned to Lone, "You can't be serious."

Lone grimaced, sucking in air through his teeth, "Okay! I'll admit that that's a dumb concern, considering the situation."

Margeaux lifted her head up, her hair still wrapped around Wolfrider's mouth and throat, "No, baby! It's not what it looks like!"

...What? Blood was dribbling down Margeaux's mouth and onto her chest and the bloody floor. Wolfrider was bleeding out.

Tycon raised his hands up in confusion.

It looked like she was... eating him? And she was saying... she wasn't?

How particularly bad... was the argument Margeaux and Wolfrider were having... And it made this woman...? Eghh...

Tycon sighed and dropped his arms. It didn't matter.

Mister Wolfrider was a troublesome individual and probably deserved it.

"I'd like to request you not do anything rash, Miss Margeaux," Tycon slowly began gravitating his hand towards his cutlass... "Or anything *else* rash, anyroad."

"D-don't move!! Or... or I'll kill him!!" The maid girl screamed, spattering blood and saliva like an uncouth barbarian.

Tycon's eyes narrowed to thin slits, "Are you uh... aware that that is not a meaningful threat?"

In a bright flash of light and a loud bang, the small study was filled with a cloud of white smoke. The sweet smell of burnt Orkish Sugar filled the room.

As the haze began to clear, Tycon relaxed his stance. Blood was running down Margeaux's cheek. A spray of blood was painted softly on the wall behind where she stood. The fired bullet had entered through her eye and pierced through her brain, killing her almost instantly.

Wolfrider laid beside her. His head was turned too far to the side, his neck broken. A neat hole had been drilled into the center of his forehead. Though the wolf-boy's body still twitched and convulsed, no amount of healing magic would fix those injuries.

Lone's hand trembled, still holding onto his smoking pistol.

"If you drop that, I will beat you." Tycon warned, " The craftsmanship of the tool is rather precise."

Lulu popped her head into the doorway, "OoooOOOh! Did she eat his BRAIN?!?"

Sasha popped her head in below Lulu's.

Lone carefully re-holstered the pistol, "Boss... I..."

"Good thinking, Mister Lone," Tycon patted the man on the shoulder.

"Boss-- but... I just got Levi killed?"

Tycon shrugged, "I would have killed him myself if I could. As you know, the Magical Contract restricted me from doing so."

"I uh... It what?" Lone wore his classic 'doesn't know what's going on' expression.

Tycon rolled his eyes, "I've read it to you before, but it appears you hadn't listened."

He took a deep breath before explaining, "The contract states that I am not to inflict malicious or unnecessary harm or death to any of our loyal members..."

"Then... then shouldn't I be suffering a Mana Backlash right now?" Lone asked.

"Nonsense," Tycon shook his head before grinning, "With Magical Contracts, the highest priorities apply. In this case, protecting yourself and the members of Sol Invictus was most important... And of course, you didn't aim to *directly* harm our former ally."

Lone nodded in thought, "I see..."

Tycon shrugged as he turned back to the approaching Lulu, "Quite redundant, I think. It seems rather asinine to sign someone on if there was a lack of trust... Who thought of that 'thou shalt not harm' nonsense, anyroad?"

"You did, Boss!" Lulu answered cheerfully.

"Oh. In that case, it was an intelligent decision, full of foresight. Bravo," Tycon replied in rapid-fire to hide his embarrassment.

He approached the corpse of Levi Wolfrider. Blood ran down his eyes, nose, and mouth. A thin trail of blood also seeped from the hole bored into his skull. His eyes remained wide open as if he still couldn't believe he was dead.

Kneeling down, Tycon closed the boy's eyelids, "Levi Wolfrider, I hereby release you from service to Sol Invictus. 'Requesciat in Pacem.'"

Tycon whispered a small prayer in the language of the Holy Country. It seemed appropriate.

Standing up, Tycon took his halberd back. It needed a good oiling. Wolfrider wouldn't be needing it, where he was going.

Tycon turned back, but was immediately met with Lone's downed spirits and pitiful expression.

He sighed, "If it will make you feel any better, perhaps you should examine the maid-woman's hair."

"But I..." Lone frowned, but realized he had no reason to argue, "Fine."

The young man walked over and knelt down, examining the aberrant-blooded woman's pink hair in his hands, "Wh-why does it feel like that? It's wriggling?"

"Indeed. Margeaux wasn't human.

"Did you notice that Wolfrider wasn't able to fight back? There must have been some magic she cast to prevent him from doing so...

"Further, observe the precise hole bored into Wolfriders' forehead. Recall he was a Bronze-Ranker. Our mutual friend, Margeaux, was far more insidious than she had initially let on if she was capable of--"

"SUCKING HIM OFF!!!!!!" Lulu interjected, "TOOOOOOOO DEAAAAAAATH!!"

Tycon's mouth twitched, "Right, that."

He shrugged, "As I mentioned earlier, with your quick thinking Lone... and the still unknown abilities of the hostile party, you have potentially saved me, Sasha, and even Lulu. You're a hero, Mister Lone."

"Proud of you, big guy!!" Lulu bumped Lone's thigh with her behind.

"Proud..." Sasha swayed her hips. The chocolate elf remained in the doorway of the study, four fulms away from Lone.

She was a shy, young lady.

Lone stood up, "A hero, huh... It sure doesn't feel like it."

Tycon closed his eyes and took a breath, "No... It often does not."

Lone stared at his still shaking hands, "I just... I feel like I could have prevented it."

Tycon shook his head, "It was the best you could do."

"But it wasn't the--"

"It was the best you could do, with the time and tools you were allotted," Tycon insisted. "It is done, Mister Lone. I advise any feelings of inferiority be rectified with an increase in training and not drowning yourself in doubt."

He walked past Lone, patting the silent Warrior's shoulder, "The result is acceptable. You did well. Next drink's on me... the house ale-- booze isn't cheap, after all."

Lone held out his still-shaking pistol hand. With his opposite hand, he held onto his wrist, forcing it to still. With a deep sigh and heavy footsteps, he turned and followed Tycon out of the Wizard's study.