The Corrupted Syndicate

A fleeting thought crossed her mind—perhaps a smaller weapon would be better suited for what lay ahead. Using this as a backup felt excessive—too large to conceal and far too powerful to serve as a secondary weapon.

Its true potential lay in being the primary force, not a last resort. Mavislin's eyes flicked toward the training dummies at the back of the room. The distance wasn't ideal, but it would be enough for a test.

With a swift, practiced motion, she primed the rifle. Dark purple energy crackled along the barrel as it began to hum softly in her hand.

Most would need to lie prone to even think about using such a weapon, but after surviving the Syndicate's relentless training, Mavislin could handle the sniper rifle as easily as a pistol.

Her arms steady, she ripped the scope from the top, letting it clatter to the floor. It wasn't needed for what she had in mind.

Taking aim once more, Mavislin steadied her breath. It took only seconds before she squeezed the trigger. The rifle roared, unleashing a crackling bolt of energy that tore through the air.

As the shot tore through the air, purple energy pulsed from the chamber, spiraling outward in a mesmerizing wave of power. The projectile streaked toward the target, and the moment it made contact, the dummy's torso erupted in a violent explosion.

In a flash, the straw-filled figure was completely disintegrated, leaving nothing but wisps of smoke and the echo of the rifle's deafening roar.

The dragoness remained unnerved, her expression calm and unwavering. Even the rifle's powerful recoil, strong enough to tear off a normal person's arm, hadn't shifted her stance an inch.

She stood rooted, her grip steady as though the shot had been nothing more than a whisper. A single shot posed no threat of fatigue, but Mavislin knew that in a prolonged battle, the relentless force behind each round might begin to take its toll, testing even her strength.

"I thought the Viceroy was lying when he allowed you to use the basement... I guess he is truthful, though unhinged," announced Mattheos as he walked into the room, drawing out his blade.

"Heh... Zenos has no reason to lie; it isn't his nature nor will it do any good," responded Mavislin as she remained on her targets and arm still outstretched.

"Words are cheap so don't let your guard down," warned Matt as his voice darkened.

The dragoness grinned as she summoned her scythe just in time to block the rabbit's surprise attack. With a swift, powerful motion, she swung the blade diagonally, sending Matt hurling to the side.

Mavislin's smile widened into a cheeky grin as the rabbit quickly recovered, darting behind her before launching himself into another assault. Without missing a beat, she hurled her scythe like a discus while simultaneously firing a shot from her rifle.

With both projectiles barreling toward him, Matt had no choice but to dodge, though the scythe curved in mid-air, pursuing him relentlessly.

Forced to engage with the spinning blade, the shot's explosion behind him momentarily blinded Matt, the shockwave and dust cloud obscuring his view of his opponent's next move.

Matt realized he was at a disadvantage the moment his clash with the scythe ended in a blur—it vanished before his eyes. His ears twitched, picking up the unmistakable sound of a sniper rifle being primed.

In a split second, he crouched low, narrowly dodging the bullet that whizzed through where his head had just been. Mavislin smirked, unleashing a barrage of shots, each one forcing Matt to weave through the arena.

With mana channeled into his legs, he darted around at blinding speed, evading each shot as he raced to close the gap between them. Despite bringing a blade to a gunfight, Matt easily deflected the mana-charged shots as he pushed forward and into Mavislin's close quarters.

As Matt closed in for the offensive, he swung his blade toward the dragoness's neck, aiming for a decisive strike. But with a simple turn, Mavislin met his blade with a powerful roundhouse kick, both sword and leg now frozen mid-air.

Her sniper rifle hummed with energy, its barrel glowing as she aimed directly at his face. Faced with an impossible choice—lose his head or forfeit the close-quarter advantage—Matt wisely opted for the latter.

He quickly disengaged, leaping back to put a safe distance between himself and his relentless opponent. To his surprise, Mavislin lowered her weapon—though not before abruptly firing another shot at a training dummy.

The blast obliterated it completely, leaving nothing but scattered debris in its wake. Before either of them could speak, a familiar figure strolled into the arena.

A certain blonde, twirling his scythe with effortless precision, had arrived—his presence announcing itself before he even uttered a word.