The rabbit, topless and wielding a wooden blade in one hand, appeared utterly focused, showing no signs of wear despite the intensity of the sparring.
The contrast was striking: his opponents, bruised and weary, looked as though they had been through a battle, while Matt remained composed, his energy seemingly untouched.
"What? Are you planning to drill a hole into my head with your stares?" boomed Matt as he turned around to glare at the Viceroy.
A faint smile ghosted across Zenos's lips as he shook his head in quiet amusement. Those sprawled on the ground struggled to their feet, weapons in hand, clearly bracing to engage him in combat.
He met them with a single, disdainful glance, the contempt in his eyes making them falter. Before any dared move further, Matt's wooden blade shot out, intercepting them in a protective arc as he stepped between the crowd and the towering figure, barring their path.
"We've got a truce from the Northern Cartel so no one can touch him. Shadow's orders," commanded Mattheos.
"I hold no interest in wasting my strength on the rest of you. But you, rabbit... you've intrigued me for some time now. Surely, you'll indulge me in a match worth my attention?" asked Zenos, stretching out his palm.
The rabbit blinked rapidly, his ears flicking with a hint of confusion as he tilted his head to the side.
"Did I hear that wrongly? You're asking for a friendly match? Since when did the Prince of Darkness become friendly?" questioned Matt.
"You're not mistaken. I've made an exception for you—bound, as I am, by the vow to Mavi—"
In a flash, Zenos found himself silenced, his words halted as a wooden blade pressed against his jugular. Matt's emerald eyes blazed with fury as he leaned in, pressing the blade further against Zenos's skin, his rage unmistakable.
"Don't you dare call Shadow so familiarly," growled Sin.
The Viceroy, looking as disinterested as ever, merely gave a slight nod, signaling his acquiescence and permitting his opponent to lower his weapon.
"So... A friendly duel, huh? I'm alright to go but you have to abide by my rules," announced Matt.
"That's fair."
"Three strikes to win. The strikes must be counted only on the sides, wrist, and top of the head. Next, we are only using these wooden swords. If I see anything metal coming out from your coat, I'm pulling out a gun," ordered the rabbit, his eyes flashing bright green.
"Worry not, I'm above such notions."
"Just a precaution. Now then, grab a weapon, and let's settle this."
Zenos smirked as he approached the weapon rack, selecting a wooden sword with a hint of amusement. When he took his place opposite Matt, the Viceroy unexpectedly slipped into a battle stance reminiscent of Mavislin's formidable Alter form.
The rabbit's eyebrow arched in curiosity, though he fell into his usual stance, the grip of his hand echoing the memory of his greatsword.
Meanwhile, Emmett and Mavislin exchanged a heavy, silent glance, his expression darkening as he locked eyes with her. Unable to hold back, Venom strode up to the dragoness, his arm snaking around to grip the back of her head, tugging her roughly toward him.
"I neither know nor care for the sordid details of whatever binds you to that Terror, but should your affections for him endanger the Syndicate as a whole, I will be left with no choice but to intervene. And, surely, I needn't paint you a picture of what that would entail."
"Do you honestly think me so little? That I would be swayed by a mere boy?" asked Mavislin, her tone heavy with malice.
"Hmph. "Boy" seems a bit beneath him, though I suppose it's fitting for your unrefined perception. If memory serves, your history with romance is... nonexistent. So, I suppose this would be your first foray into such matters."
The dragoness stared at Venom with shock and horror, as if he had just cut up her tail for lunch.
"And who told you that I would have feelings for that blonde?"
"Your rabbit's thinking on the same wavelength as me."
Mavislin let out a frustrated groan, wriggling in Venom's grasp, only for him to counter by wrapping his other arm around her waist and drawing her close.
He rested his chin atop her head, effectively silencing her protests, and she eventually surrendered to the embrace with a soft sigh.
As Emmett began to trace gentle circles on the small of her back, a sense of quiet contentment settled over her, melting her earlier annoyance into something far softer.
"I may be one of the oldest of us, but that does not equate to heartlessness. While others view relationships as mere burdens, I understand their necessity in propelling us forward. That said, heed my warning regarding the Viceroy."