Get Out, Break Out!

The blade glanced off harmlessly, leaving not so much as a scratch. Realizing her attack had failed, Mavislin made a desperate move to retreat, but the Viceroy's iron grip snapped around her right wrist like a vice.

Pain shot up her arm as she struggled to free herself, but his hold was unyielding. Her eyes met his, cold and unwavering, as he pulled her closer, tightening his grip. Her teeth ground together in frustration, her free hand still tangled with the scythe, useless in this position.

Damn it, am I really going to have to tap into my alter just to break free, thought Mavislin as the frustration began building as she gave another futile tug. The Viceroy only smirked, effortlessly drawing her nearer, as if mocking her feeble resistance.

"You'd have a better chance at moving the mountains than to get out of my grip. While you're here, I will warn you that I have no care for pitiful lives like yours."

"In fact, I would rather enjoy it if you were to scream in pain but the savage look you're giving me now will do," whispered the Prince of Darkness as he smirked.

"Thanks, but I'm not intending to die here…" said Mavislin, trying to find her way out of his grasp.

"I never said that I wanted to kill you… What would be the fun in that?"

The Viceroy's eyes flicked downward, noticing the thin blade buried in his side, the wound oozing blood. Mavislin had slipped it in with the swiftness of a serpent. She braced herself for a furious outburst—maybe even a roar of anger.

But instead of curses or rage, a deep, resonant chuckle rumbled from his chest. Amusement danced in his eyes as he tightened his grip, causing Mavislin to wince in pain. She was very sure another attack was happening.

Glancing to her side, an unmistakable sight of an oncoming blade was cutting through the night's wind, about to drive into her side.

The dragon girl inhaled a sharp breath and prayed to her guardian for the mistake she was about to make. She then let out an inaudible scream as forcibly snapped her captured wrist to move herself out of grasp and harm's way. 

By the time the Viceroy had finished the slash, Mavislin was standing before him with a damaged wrist and holding her scythe.

"I had never expected you to go so far as to maim yourself just to get out of my grasp… Am I that revolting to you? However, one thing is for sure, you truly live up to your name of Shadow…" the Viceroy said, his tone both admiring and commanding. 

"Yet, despite its ominous ring, I know it isn't your true name. So, enlighten me—what is your real name?" 

He withdrew a dagger with a casual flick, as though it were merely another inconvenience to be dealt with. Matt couldn't find an opening due to how close his attack would scathe his partner and was forced to stand there helplessly.