The elven master still sounded conceited, even after he finally decided to take things more seriously. Was it really so hard to admit or believe that someone stronger than oneself could be out there? Even Cyrus, for all his skill and experience from the war, knew well and good that he was far from the strongest in the universe. But such an argument was not worth making, especially when his goal was never to defeat the elf in the first place, only to see what kind of person he was. If the elf truly didn't understand that, or simply didn't wish to, then it was no concern of Cyrus.

Now that he was seeing some of the other wielders up close, he began to realize that his original assessment was not entirely accurate. Apart from the elven man there was also an elven woman, and she could very well have been as old and learned as her male counterpart. Also, he realized that there were no actual children among this group, some of them appearing only a handful of years younger than Cyrus himself. Even still, he didn't recognize a single one of them from the war, so his assessment that they were likely all rookies was still very likely true.

Cyrus might have given a reply to the elven man, but found himself interrupted by the brief scuffle between three of the others present. Well, it began as two, but the elven woman had stepped in and that seemed to be enough to settle things for now. But something else caught Cyrus's eye, a civilian fleeing from something. It could have simply been Heartless, but on the off-chance of something more dangerous lurking nearby, Cyrus took it upon himself to investigate the direction the fleeing vendor had come from. It didn't take long to spot the problem. Keyblade Wielders, but not the usual helpful sort. From their tone, to even the way they stood and moved, their disposition was perfectly clear. Mercenaries, Cyrus had put up with his share of their kind through out the war. Not all Keyblade Wielders desired the power of the X-Blade, some just used the war to put munny in their pocket. These sorts of Keyblade Wielders were scum as far as Cyrus was concerned, for what kind of self-respecting Wielder of the Key would sell his strength to the highest bidder? To them Cyrus had only one thing to say.

"Holding those blades gives you no right to terrorize the innocent." he told them, plain and blunt as usual, "If you crave battle so badly then go find some Heartless and fight to your heart's content, at least then you would be doing something useful."