As he gave the order, his siblings dispersed and engaged with their selected opponent. Marcus squared off with the thief on the far right. The others should be able to handle a single thief. Even if they didn't belong to the Sword sector, and for the most part weren't fighters by trade, there was no sign that their opponents had any real impressive skillsets. Besides, they were of the de Telarius family. Even Flint, whom Marcus held so lowly, was probably leagues ahead of any of these criminals.
The thief he squared off with was probably a good head shoulder than Marcus, and not particularly muscularly developed. He was probably in his early twenties, maybe even a bit younger. He didn't seem like much of the fighter type to begin with. Yet despite this, his face was marked with a grin of overconfidence and poise. Marcus found the gesture interesting, mainly for the reason that he had become quite intimately known to most criminals on Regalo for his...strict, borderline dictatorial observance of the law (particularly with matters concerned of his sector of defense), and harsh penalties he imposed on those who did not comply to the rules. But of course, Marcus concluded that perhaps and most likely, these thieves weren't even from Regalo, hence the destination overseas.
For those that did know of Marcus, his most recognizable feature was that of his golden gauntlets. He wasn't exactly sure what first compelled him to put them on those many years ago. They were a gift from a distant family relative intended for the de Telarius armory. Besides being of the most durable design, they held no significant complementary power to his own Arcana card. Yet for many since his initial debut with the gauntlets, they have become a symbol of his sense of justice and strength, despite the source not coming from the gauntlets themselves. They have also added a heightened dimension of fear to many enemies, as no way in hell did anyone want to be punched by Marcus while he wore those. In other words, the very appearance of the gauntlets upon the hands of Marcus that became frightening. Many have since come up with many telling tales involving the gauntlets, including the perception and comparison of Marcus to that of a knight in medieval times, some going as far as giving Marcus the moniker of the 'Knight of Regalo'.
Marcus seemed to have been able to wait forever for the thief to make his move. He didn't like much to strike first (unless the situation demanded for it), preferring instead to give his enemy a sort of symbolic one last chance to turn around or to surrender. As the thief stepped forward and prepped himself to attack, any chance he got was thrown out the window. Armed with a rather long knife, the thief approached Marcus and began swinging the knife around wildly, probably as a scare tactic, before extending his arm forward and thrust to knife at him. Marcus took a pace to the left and sidestepped the knife with such a effortlessness, it almost appeared comical. Before the thief even knew what happened, Marcus lifted his left arm, and connected his gauntlet-covered fist with the man's face. At the point of impact the deep snapping and cracking of bone was heard, and the force of his punch sent the man straight onto the deck. He didn't make a sound of protest, nor did he whine, screech in pain, or cry. He simply lay right where his body had dropped, blood oozing from the point of impact on his face, and any expectation of an extended fight was ended in a few mere seconds.
Marcus walked over to the thief, lingering over his unconscious for a moment. He wondered what compelled someone so young, perhaps so promising he did not know, to commit a crime. He couldn't understand it. Strict observance of the law wasn't so difficult. Yet once greed, desperation, or anger kicked in, most senses of duty, uprightness, law-abiding nature was suddenly put aside. This was the inevitable result. Marcus firmly believed that. Eventually, all criminals were caught, and all crimes were punished.
As Marcus turned his attention to his siblings, one of them, Beck, shouted for his aid.
The eldest de Telarius sibling immediately reacted, coming to the aid of his youngest brother. As the larger thief choked Beck, Marcus came in from behind, grabbing the man by his shirt, and, using his superior strength, tossing him off of his younger brother. The man let go of Beck's neck, and was hurled about two meters to the adjacent side of the ship, crashing into a few barrels on the top deck. Marcus did not say anything to Beck, but merely gave him a look. It wasn't exactly one of disappointment, well perhaps it partially was. It was a look Beck was accustomed to seeing from Marcus from time to time, in it he could say everything that could be said in much more words. Most perceptibly, it was a look that said to Beck that Marcus expected more out of him than this. Yes, he wasn't in the Sword sector of La Famiglia like Marcus was, but Marcus set a higher standard upon his siblings to perform at a peak level he never placed on anyone else. Being of the de Telarius family meant that such high precision was expected of them, in Marcus's opinion, and he expected them to adhere to that.
As the larger thief recovered from Marcus's initial toss, Marcus turned away from his sibling to engage back with the man. He seemed angry. Pulling out his rather large sword, he charged forward. Marcus held his ground. The man swung his sword wildly, hoping some of his hits would slash at his opponent, but as he got closer, Marcus lifted his fists and prepared to engage back. The first clank of metal was heard as his gauntlets met with the man's large sword. The larger man tried to use all of his might to try and force the blade down, but Marcus's gauntlets didn't budge. He was confused, but continued to try and force it down, sweaty protruding off of his body intensely. Marcus, on the other hand, maintained a look of dispassionate tranquility. Inhaling a deep breath, he force his gauntlets forward, now meeting the forward push of the thief, causing the blade to break in half, much to the wide surprise of the thief. Before he could give any other reaction, Marcus lifted a fist and connected it with the man's face, the resulting sound of a crack to follow, followed by blood from his nose. A second punch was brought to his ribs, producing an equally potent, if not more so, crack, and this was followed by a third punch as an under hit straight at the man's chin, elevating him off of the ground and hurling backwards, causing all manner of broken items on the ship. With both of his opponents no doubt down for the count, Marcus took out a small handkerchief and extracted any blood or dirt that found its way onto his gauntlets. Wiping away any marks on them, he returned them to their shining, flawless form, and watched to see if the others had dealt with their part. He took out his pocket watch in his pocket, always mindful of events ahead, keeping an eye on the time to make sure they weren't late for tonight's ball.