[Carefully, the armadillomon shifts enough to gingerly pat Vergil's labramon in a manner that's supposed to be comforting. It's not saying anything! But it's grateful!

Vanitas simply snorts.]

If your idea of being not dead weight is relying on other things to do your fighting for you, then I'll happily be dead weight. I fight my own battles. You don't like that, go preach to someone else.

[It doesn't quite sound like bragging. It sounds more like.. aggravation, because now his saw is way over there. He stalks after it. Stupid saw. Stupid old man. Stupid monsters.]