The Corrupted Syndicate

"Hmph… You want me to do your braids?" asked the girl, flicking the rabbit's long, standing ears.

"Yes, just make sure you don't cut my ears off while you're at it," said Mattheos, angling his body so Mavislin would have a better time doing his hair.

"I'm trying to comb and tie your hair, not cut it. Last I checked, the comb isn't a weapon," retorted the girl as she grabbed the left of his chestnut fringe and began braiding.

"And the last time I saw you, you managed to turn me into the world's best frisbee," argued Mattheos, recalling how unflattering it was to become a literal weapon against their enemy.

"That's different, you are versatile."

"I beg to differ!"

"Enough, stop squirming around if not I'm going to braid your ears into your hair!"

Matt stiffened but stubbornly kept his pout as Mavislin carefully worked on his braids, finishing with a neat singular braid down the back of his head. Despite their close bond, their fashion choices couldn't have been more contrasting.

Mavislin favored a rustic, village-style appearance—flowing dresses with a few pieces of armor strapped to her shoulders, knees, and forearms.

In contrast, Mattheos stuck to his signature black leather coat, devoid of any protective armor, despite being the group's designated tank.

After bickering over what supplies to bring for their journey, they finally set off before the sun fully dipped behind the hills.

The local innkeeper gave them a warm wave as they headed out toward Arcadia, the heart of Valokia's Throne. The trip itself was uneventful; just the two of them maneuvering through backroads and slipping past local patrols.

Given the questionable nature of their work, it was better that they stayed under the radar—anything to avoid drawing attention from the authorities who viewed their missions as far from honorable. 

"Mav? Shall we pause for a bit?" asked Mavislin as they found a clearing in the forest, away from any signs of civilisation.

"Don't tell me you're tired… I thought you've boasted that you can endure this without your afternoon nap," complained Matt, dropping his bag.

"No, we're being stalked."

Matt's eyes widened as he grabbed out his black greatsword, which had a black curved spine with red hues as a handle. He then stood in a protective stance in front of Mavislin and waited for the danger to spring forth.

Unfortunately, it appears that the threat was behind the dragon girl, eliciting a shout from Matt, albeit slightly too late.

The rabbit's breath hitched as he saw Mavislin defending herself with her signature silver scythe featuring an extended, curved blade emerging from a small skeleton.

The skeleton's skull is encircled by a thorny vine at the top of the handle, and its ribcage connects to the slim stem of the handle, which culminates in a base resembling a lower backbone.

"Impressive, even with the disadvantage of the night, you saw through my guise and protected yourself," said the threat, who clashed with Mavislin using his own scythe.