The Corrupted Syndicate

The force of Mavislin's sudden action had left him stunned and disoriented, his mind racing to catch up with the chaotic turn of events.

As the tension in the room reached its peak, a flicker of movement caught everyone's attention. From the shadows behind the Viceroy, a delicate, ethereal fox emerged.

Its fur was a mesmerizing blend of black, outlined with shimmering streaks of violet that seemed to ripple with each step. The fox's eyes, glowing with an otherworldly purple flame, flickered with an intelligence that belied its small size.

It moved with a grace that seemed almost spectral, its paws barely making a sound on the polished floor. The fox approached Mavislin with a quiet purpose, the purple flames in its eyes reflecting the turmoil of the room.

As it neared her, it nuzzled gently against her side, brushing its silky fur against her with a tender, almost soothing touch. It was as if the fox was trying to offer comfort and solace, its presence a calming balm amidst the storm of emotions.

Mavislin looked down at the fox, her hardened expression softening slightly. The warmth of the creature's fur and its reassuring presence provided a momentary reprieve from the tension.

As the fox continued to nuzzle her, its eyes seemed to convey a silent message of understanding and support, bridging the gap between her and the overwhelming situation before her.

The room fell silent, save for the soft, rhythmic sound of the fox's breathing and the gentle rustle of its fur. 

She then crouched down to ruffle the fox's fur and thanked it before it dashed towards the rabbit to vanish into thin air. Her gentle expression shifted to a worrisome one as he faced her two companions.

"The issue with the Legion has escalated to a Cataclysm-class… If it goes any higher, the entire Syndicate will be mobilized. Once that message goes through, the casualties will skyrocket," grumbled Mavislin as she walked toward Matt to pull him up.

"Cataclysm-class? Does the Syndicate have its own measurement of how dangerous a mission is?" asked Zenos, trying to get his fallen guards to get up and out of the area.

Despite how Matt was seething with rage earlier, the Viceroy noticed that most of his men had only suffered minor bruises except for the poor guy who had his wrist broken.

"Yes, we do. However, only the missions that have been labeled Peril-class are known to the majority of the Syndicate. For the Fifth Seats and above, which include Mattheos who is under my care, they can access and take up Peril and Crisis Classes."

"However, when it comes to Cataclysm-class and higher, Beast, our Grandmaster and overall leader, will send out a Wisp Fox to let the First Seats know about those. And do so for changes as well," explained Mavislin as she helped straighten the poor rabbit.

"This is the first time I heard about a Cataclysm-class mission or anything beyond. I'm curious…" stated Matt as they headed toward the Viceroy.

"Shall we relocate to a more discreet setting for our discussion? I prefer to avoid any uninvited listeners," suggested the blonde, strolling towards a long hallway.

"That would be better," chimed the two members of the Syndicate.

The Viceroy pushed open a singular red door, revealing an expansive meeting room that exuded a refined elegance. The room was adorned with minimalist Valokian decor, featuring bamboo mat flooring that gave the space a serene and grounded atmosphere.

Screens with delicate paper latticework separated different areas, their translucent surfaces softly filtering the light that streamed in from the sights outside.

At the center of the room, a low wooden table, crafted from dark polished mahogany, was surrounded by cushion-seated chairs arranged in a formal circle.

Above the table, a stunning ornate panel featuring a traditional Valokian landscape painting—hung on the wall, its serene depiction of mountains and flowing water adding a touch of tranquility to the environment.

The room was scented with a faint aroma of incense, and the gentle rustling of bamboo plants in the corner added to the atmosphere of quiet contemplation.

The Viceroy motioned for his guests to take their seats, his expression inscrutable as he observed the interplay of light and shadow within this meticulously curated space.

"I forgot that this is the palace… Nothing short of the rich and fancy part," said Matt as he sat down on the floor.

"Not my ideal choice, but it will suffice for now. From Mavislin's earlier remarks, it appears there's a significant progression between the Peril, Crisis, and Cataclysm Classes."

"I'm interested in delving deeper into these distinctions," replied Zenos, taking his seat opposite from the rabbit.

"There isn't much of a difference between Peril and Crisis other than the fact that Peril-class missions are usually for newcomers."