The Corrupted Syndicate

The remaining soldiers fled the room in a frantic rush, their fear palpable as they stumbled over one another. The messenger, pale and trembling, came close to losing control of his bowels but managed to muster enough strength to flee silently into the hallway, disappearing from sight.

The Viceroy sighed deeply, sinking into the plush, high-backed throne. He broke the red wax seal on the letter with a deliberate motion, the crackling sound echoing through the otherwise still throne room.

As he unfolded the parchment, the only sound was the mournful howl of the night winds outside, pressing against the stone walls like a ghostly lament.

He closed his eyes, allowing himself a moment of repose on the throne. How long had it been since he last sat here, lost in contemplation? At least half a week, he mused, since he had encountered his little dragoness.

The alliance with the Shadow of the Syndicate had been a front for his father so he wouldn't send an army against Mavislin, but the subsequent turn of events had infused his life with an unexpected excitement.

The real turning point had been their clash in battle—the exhilarating duel that had unfolded when he first fought her. The clang of their swords reverberated through the Enclave, and the spectacle she had made facing the Scylla was nothing short of legendary.

The thrill of that confrontation, the intensity of their combat, had been a stark contrast to his otherwise monotonous existence. He would never forget the rush of that moment. For the first time in a long while, something had filled the void that had long plagued his life.

The sensation of true engagement, of a challenge worthy of his prowess, had rekindled a spark within him.

The contents of the letter were as expected—his father's mundane update on the situation back home, a matter of little consequence to him. The Viceroy barely concealed his boredom as he crumpled the letter into a tight ball and flung it dismissively over his shoulder.

Zenos longed to close his eyes and drift into the solace of his thoughts but was abruptly pulled back to reality by the little snake coiled around him. The creature let out a small sneeze, its tiny body shivering in the chill.

It tightened its grip around the Viceroy, seeking warmth and comfort in the most unexpected of places.

The Prince of Darkness watched with a faint smirk as the snake struggled to stay warm, a small, almost humorous reminder of the simple comforts that still found their way into his otherwise tumultuous life.

"Hmm? Would you like to return to your Lady?" whispered Zenos, gently patting the snake's little head.

The reptile shyly nodded before rubbing its cheek on the Viceroy's finger. He nodded and went back to his quarters, only to be stopped by another annoying pest.

This little pest was leaning against the chilly window, dressed in full leather armor, a ridiculously gigantic hat, and an equally massive black feather. The tengu shifted his position, unfolding his arms, and faced the Viceroy with a glare that was deadly enough to kill.

"Are you so willing to die? You've infiltrated once and I kindly ignored it. Why are you back again? Or should I presume that you are here to get your leader back?" quizzed the Viceroy as he tilted his head to the side in annoyance.

"I'm back to deliver a word of warning toward you. If you try anything to hurt Shadow or I catch wind that you've made her upset, I will divorce your soul from your body," threatened Void as his indigo eyes flashed bright with fury.

The tengu swiftly pulled a musketoon from his back and aimed it at Zenos' face.

The musketoon gleamed with a polished golden barrel, its wide mouth hinting at close-range destruction. The stock, in deep royal purple, contrasted sharply with the gold, giving the weapon an air of nobility and power.

Intricate gold etchings adorned the metal, making it both a deadly tool and a regal artifact, suited for a ruler as much as a warrior.

Despite the barrel being inches away, the Viceroy's eyes held no fear as he stared right into Void's eyes.

"Are you sure your little toy can hurt me, feathers?"

"Don't tempt me, I am not as weak as that little furball beside her. I have no clue what you've done to her but it won't work on me."

"I have no wishes to harm her outside of some battle scars."

With a sharp stomp, Void shattered the silence, black smoke billowing around him as his body dissolved into a swirling cloud.

In an instant, he transformed into a sleek crow, wings flaring wide before he darted through the open window and vanished into the cold, moonlit night.