Horne stops in place, and a tendril about to grab Zaros also freezes. He looks at Flare like she just mentioned that she was made of onions. "...We are trying to kill eachother. Obviously."
Zaros, for his part, just stood still and took the knives, a majority of them sinking into chinks due to Blades' superior marksmanship. If the chinks were anywhere near vital areas, he would be dead in an instant. But anypony with sufficient eyesight could see that on at least a few of the strikes he moved so that they hit him a little more softly than normal, where he clearly could have dodged entirely. It's almost like he wants to be hit.
"Trying is the operative word. I am willing to allow the smith to batter away until no weapon of hers remains, but your magic will not affect me with even a half-second to spare. Release your hold; the mare has a quarrel with me, not-"
"Oh, shut up. If it answers your question, imprisoned one, I am presently about to commence with the slaughtering of an admitted slaver and mass murderer. It will hardly take ten seconds, give or take a few extra moments of screaminggggAAAAHHHHH!"
Zaros casually checks his hoof while Horne starts spazzing out and hits the floor. "Your methods are indeed effective."
"Glad to hear I wasn't the only one thinking that. Any of those assembled with good knowledge of vampire psychology - does this coven strike you as Blood Knights, or toy-with-your-mind types?" Time to put all those ranks in 'Knowledge (Genre Savvy)' to at least some use.