Headed by a Snake

⟬ Ho Byul, Iron-Rank Headless Ghost Martialist. ⟭

The High-Captain seemed to be more than just a Fleet Admiral.

If Tycondrius guessed correctly, the woman was also the leader of a Hidden Sect... which meant that she and her crew were only beholden to the King-- in life, anyroad.

Even though he was an Officer in the same Royal Navy that Byul served, she was afflicted by a particular arrogance suffered by all cultivators raised in a Hidden Sect. In her mind, she and her crew were... above regular humans.

Besides the fact that Tycon was not actually human... he had attained enough achievements in the past few years to achieve at least basic respect.

If there was one thing Sect Martialists respected, it was titles.

He took a deep breath as he dug into his memory. He had collected quite a few in recent years...

"I am... the savior of House Kimura, the Patriarch family of the White Scale sect and their Guardian Beast.

"I am the sole successor of Garock Heartrender, the last Samurai of the Screaming Silence sect and inheritor of their curved blade techniques.

"I am blood brothers with Shao Ran, the strongest warrior of the Golden Crow sect.

"I am one of the combat instructors of Athena Vanzano, the next matriarch of the Frozen Cairn sect.

"...and probably most importantly, I am a Lieutenant of the Sea Wolf Fleet... also known as the Sea Wolf Hidden Sect-- led by Sect Master and Grand-Capitaine Lang Hai, sole successor of Grand-Capitaine Liang Qiang."

Byul pursed her lips, confusion on her face.

Being polite, Tycon did not press the issue, and he waited patiently for her to recompose herself.

"Liang... Qiang," She muttered, "Zat is... impossible."

"Care to test my strength, Grande-Capitaine?" Tycon inclined his head, trying his best to remain as respectful as possible. At the same time, he stared into Byul's eyes-- not undimming his vision, but allowing his mana to circulate enough for her to sense clearly.

If he chose to, he could annihilate her with a single blade technique. Such was the difference in strength between a solidified Gold-Rank and a middle-to-peak Iron-Rank.

However, touting his strength... and that most of her ribbons and medals were pathetic compared to his achievements-- that would be rude

"No," Byul took a deep breath, her body's chest heaving in, "Forgive me... I had not noticed before, but you do have ze strength to back your claims..."

The strong had no reason to lie. Truth was highly valued amongst the Hidden Sects.

"(Thank you for your praise, High-Captain,)" Tycon smiled warmly.

"I must commend you for so skillfully hiding your power level... (I feel like a fool for speaking to you so rudely...)"

"I've been practicing," Tycon smiled politely. "Do not be troubled, Capitaine. Perhaps we should speak more casually... and over some tea?"

...

⟬ A short time later... ⟭

Tycondrius sat patiently on a tattered mat through what High-Captain Ho Byul called a... tea rite.

Though it was not something he was familiar with, the concept was commonplace. The ritual was performed as a respectful welcome to foreign guests, to solidify agreements, and for other, generally-special occasions.

Byul lamented the fact that she did not have proper ceremony attire... as all her clothes beside her military attire were damaged by sea rot due to the dark magic that kept her 'alive'.

"(Thank you for this gift from the land of the living, Lieutenant Tycon,)" Byul closed her eyes as her body bowed forward. "(This is the most wonderful tea I have ever tasted...)"

"Think nothing of it," Tycon returned the bow, just as low.

Being polite cost him nothing.

...Also, the jar of tea leaves he gifted her was purchased in a buy-one-get-one-free deal.

If anything, the real reason Byul was thanking him was for the mana formation he crafted for her personal use. Using a carving knife, Tycon etched a simple five-spell circle on the deck of her room, attuned it to Byul's ghostly mana, and instructed her on its activation.

The formation allowed the ghost-woman to regain strength in most of her bodily senses, as death had done much in dulling them.

She did not seem to be lying when she implied the tea was delicious. Her sense of taste was drastically different with and without the ritual circle.

"I must admit, Lieutenant," Byul frowned... "We of ze Jade Arrow sect have little to offer you. I cannot even take you to your destination..."

It seemed that the Dungeon Core was the Jade Rabbit, itself... and it operated autonomously. In a few suns, they would reach their destination... an island of sorts, then immediately sail to their next destination.

As Captain Byul was intrinsically linked to her cursed ship, she was unable to even walk the island's shores. She lamented that she could provide no information about that place, other than it had a dormant volcano at its center.

Tycon did not need anything of the woman... as he'd already learned all he cared for.

However, Byul's voice dripped with guilt... perhaps feeling that the paltry information she provided was not equal to the ritual formation he expertly designed.

It was not... but Tycon was attempting to be nicer to females.

To that end, he decided to request a minor favor from her... something she could grant without much effort.

His thoughts drifted back to Krysaos and the fact that he was probably defiling the denizens of the Jade Rabbit.

"Perhaps you'd allow me to... mingle with your crew?" Tycon offered.

"I... cannot grant you this," Byul sighed in frustration, "My crew knows not ze touch of a man... and I shall allow none to sully zem... even if zey are long dead."

It seemed Krysaos was going to be killed... which was a shame. Tycon had grown fond of his selfish personality and self-serving antics.

Tycon tapped his chin in thought... "Captain Byul..."

"Byul is fine, Lieutenant..."

"Lady Byul..."

"What did I just say?" The head scowled... as if it would leap off the floor mat and bite him.

Tycon sighed and shook his head.

He never considered himself skilled at dealing with beautiful women... and their fickle natures.