Outskirts of Ashwood Forest
The path ahead narrowed into a trail of crushed leaves and dew-slicked stone, the trees growing denser with every step. Cold air filtered down through the canopy, brushing past Vergil's coat and ruffling Eleanor's cloak as they moved silently toward the edge of Ashwood Forest.
No words passed between them—just the crunch of earth beneath their boots and the faint, distant call of waking birds.
Vergil's hand hovered near the hilt of his sword, thumb brushing over the guard out of habit. His eyes scanned the dark treeline. The sun had yet to fully rise, but the woods ahead already felt too still—too quiet.
[It seems you recoginised that something is off]
'He's hunted this place till nothing is left'
Eleanor walked beside him like a specter—silent, poised. Her steps were controlled and sharp, her expression set in stone, pale eyes scanning every inch ahead.
Vergil broke the silence first.
"Keep to mid-range. Watch for sudden shifts, and only use your rapier if necessary "
"I'm aware," Eleanor said coldly. "Try not to fall behind."
'Tch. She's always like this when things get serious.'
He kept his voice level. "That bastard isn't making this easy"
"I've been scattering my mana since we arrived ," she replied, not even glancing at him. "No disturbances , no changes ."
'How annoying, even things that are too normal can appear odd.'
The treeline loomed like a silent threat—branches clawed with frost, air clinging to them like misty breath. They stepped through, swallowed by the gloom.
Vergil's sword was half-drawn, his other hand shifting the weight of his shield. Tension rippled through his shoulders.
Eleanor's voice came again, flat and sharp. "No shifts. Not even decay. Something's suppressing the flow."
[Primal Awareness has been acticated]
Vergil paused, sniffed lightly.
"…Blood," he muttered.
She glanced at him, her tone flat. "Are you certain?"
He nodded. "Faint, but there."
'It's masked under the damp… but it's there.'
They pressed forward. The silence grew heavier.
Then, they found it.
A Skeleton coleaned against a moss-covered stone. The spine ripped clean from its body and laid next to it like some twisted offering.
Vergil stared at it for a moment, eyes hard. "It didn't just kill him. It played."
Eleanor narrowed her eyes. "Disgusting."
'It played with him, but when it got here, the blood and flesh it wasn't eaten, that would leave a mess but it seemed like it was absorbed of sorts'
He stood slowly, gaze locked on the forest ahead.
"This thing's baiting people. Pulling them in."
"Then let's not waste time," Eleanor said coldly, her cloak shifting as she turned.
'She's already ready to kill. No hesitation.'
Vergil nodded, eyes flickering with quiet focus.
"We keep moving."
Vergil kept moving until he heard a voice
Vergil and Eleanor moved silently through the undergrowth, mist curling around their feet. The trees whispered overhead, their limbs swaying like they knew what was coming.
Then, a distant voice.
"Help! Someone—gods, please! I'm stuck! Help!"
Vergil halted mid-step, raising a hand to Eleanor. She stilled beside him, her pale eyes narrowing.
A small clearing opened ahead, where a group of adventurers had gathered near a figure pinned beneath a fallen log. The man wore tattered light armor, his leg crushed under the weight, blood smeared down his side. He writhed, face twisted in pain.
"Hold still!" one of the adventurers called—a woman with earth-colored armor and a curved blade.
"We're getting it off you!"
Vergil narrowed his eyes. Something felt…off.
'That pain expression is too perfect.'
"Analysis," he whispered.
A familiar flicker danced across his vision as his gaze locked on the "wounded man."
Name: Morvax
Level: 21
Rank- I
Race: Demon
Title: The Flesh Echo
Authority: Transformation – Allows the demon to freely change its appearance, replicating the physical form and surface details of any being it has observed or imagines.
Strength: 50
Constitution: 50
Dexterity: 47
Intelligence: 40
Wisdom: 32
Demonic Energy: 50
Passive Skills:
• Mimic Flesh (D) – Can replicate any living creature's appearance down to scars, blemishes, and even vocal patterns.
• Instinctive Adaptation (D) – Adapts to fighting styles rapidly by observing them. The more it sees, the more perfect its mimicry becomes.
• Monstrous Vitality (D+) – Passively regenerates wounds over time. Immune to minor pain.
Active Skills:
• Morph Form (D) – Alters limbs into twisted weapons—claws, spikes, bladed arms.
• Echo Movement (D) – Copies the target's exact movements at 75% of their speed for a short time.
• Flesh Puppet (C) – Can manifest a grotesque puppet of a copied form, stitched from corrupted flesh. Sentient and aggressive.
Vergil's eyes widened the moment the analysis finished. A slow, amused grin crept across his face, eyes glinting with cold anticipation beneath the shadows of the trees.
'Found you… and it seems you've grown stronger too, Morvax.'
In the clearing ahead, the' woundedman' squirmed beneath a fallen log, calling out for help. Around him, four adventurers worked frantically, their weapons sheathed, unaware of the predator they were trying to rescue.
Vergil took a silent step backward into the thicket, melting into the gloom. Beside him, Eleanor's head tilted slightly, her voice barely a breath in the morning hush.
"What is it?"
He didn't answer at first, eyes locked on the scene. The wind brushed past, carrying the coppery scent of blood and something fouler—wrong, in a way that only those touched by demonic energy could sense.
Finally, Vergil replied without looking at her, his voice low, controlled.
"A party... and our fun little friend."
Eleanor's brow twitched faintly. She blinked once, pale lashes catching the faint sunlight bleeding through the canopy.
"You sure?"
Vergil's gaze didn't waver. "Absolutely positive. But let's not spoil the moment just yet." His grin sharpened. "We'll head over and greet our 'friends.' Lets entertain ourselves."
'If things go south, they'll make excellent bait for an escape.'
Ahead, the adventurers were crouched around the trapped man, urgency rising in their voices.
"I think we can lift it on three!" shouted a broad-shouldered man, clearly the frontliner.
The "victim" groaned, perfectly pained. "Thank you... I thought I was going to die here…"
Vergil's lip curled faintly at the flawless delivery. Every wince, every breath—pain portrayed like a stage performance.
'You set the trap, and now you're wearing its bait. Clever. But not clever enough to fool me.'
He leaned slightly toward Eleanor, eyes never leaving the scene.
"Play along with me."
Her gaze flicked to him, then back to the clearing. A flash of silver crossed her eyes—a glint of intrigue, maybe even amusement beneath her cold veneer.
"Seems you have a plan," she murmured.
Her posture shifted subtly, fingers loosening near the edge of her cloak, the faintest hum of mana dancing between her fingertips. Her face was emotionless, but her stance was ready—silent agreement to his lead.
Vergil adjusted the strap on his shoulder, stepping forward with a calm, practiced ease, as though just two wandering adventurers stumbling on a situation that just happened to interest them.
The woods shifted behind them, branches creaking softly, as if the forest itself was holding its breath.
'Let's see how long you can keep the mask on, Morvax.'
The crunch of leaves underfoot drew the attention of the party.
Four heads turned sharply as Vergil stepped out from the treeline, Eleanor just behind him, her cloak trailing like dusk dragged across the ground. Their presence was quiet, but undeniable—confident, controlled.
The frontliner, a man clad in dented steel, raised his hand. "Who's there?!"
Vergil lifted a hand lazily in greeting, his voice calm. "Easy. We heard some noise, figured someone might need help."
The young mage of the party, staff in hand, sighed with relief. "Thank the gods… more adventurers."
Eleanor didn't speak, but her cold eyes scanned the scene, her posture tense and alert. Her gaze locked onto the man pinned under the log.
Vergil's eyes followed hers.
That's when he saw him.
The "injured" man beneath the log.
Their eyes met—and in that instant, something shifted. A twitch behind the guise. A flicker in the mimicry.
Morvax's thoughts stirred with sudden clarity.
'Its that boy? No way…'
The demon barely restrained the smile threatening to rise under the illusion of pain and fatigue.
'It is him. He actually came back so early. How perfect is this?'
A thrill pulsed through Morvax's core—not fear, not anger, but something deeper.
'So You've grown since the last time. You found me... or maybe fate brought us together.'
The pain in his voice was only half-fake now. He let the joy mingle with the performance, blending both realities with expert control.
"Please… thank you for coming. I thought I was done for... Name's Kael."
Vergil knelt beside him with a calm, unreadable expression. "Kael, huh? That log looks nasty."
Eleanor didn't look convinced. Her eyes sharpened, focused on the microexpressions she had learned to detect.
"That's him," she whispered under her breath.
Vergil didn't answer her. Instead, his attention remained on "Kael." There was a faint smile on his face—like an old hunter recognizing a rival's scent in the air.
"A bit early to be adventuring out here, don't you think?" Vergil asked, casually placing a hand near the log.
"I was scouting for herbs… bad idea, I guess," Kael replied, managing a pained chuckle. "The tree suddenly collapsed on me."
'He knows who I am, but he doesnt realise I recognise him. He's quite the actor. This will be entertaining.'
Vergil didn't move to lift the log yet. His tone was easy, but his words were deliberate.
"Well, good thing we showed up when we did. Be a shame to lose someone so… interesting."
Morvax's disguised eyes glimmered with a hint of amusement.
'Oh, you're enjoying this too. This game of masks.'
Eleanor finally spoke, cold as wind off the cliff.
"Should we help them, or just stand around?"
Vergil smiled faintly and gave a small nod to the other adventurers.
"Let's help. Wouldn't want poor Kael bleeding out."
'Let's see how long this little reunion lasts before your true face peeks through.'
Darin stepped forward first, offering a small wave. "We're a D-rank party. Got a request from the guild about folks going missing near the forest's edge. Thought we'd check it out, and… well, we found Kael."
The others gathered around behind him, still catching their breath from moving the log. Their gear was functional but worn—no ornamentation, just what was necessary to survive.
Vergil's eyes narrowed slightly as he activated Analysis.
Name: Darin
Class: Swordsman
Level: 18
Strength: 41
Constitution: 38
Dexterity: 30
Intuition- 18
Tier-1
Skills:
• Cross Guard Slash (D) – A defensive slash that absorbs impact and redirects it with force.
• Battle Instinct (D) – Heightened reaction speed and awareness in combat.
• Iron Will (Passive, D+) – Resistant to fear-based effects and mental manipulation.
Name: Lira
Class: Mage (First Circle)
Core Type: Crystallized Core – High mana capacity and stability, ideal for ranged casting.
Affinities: Ice, Wind
Level: 17
Tier 1
Strength- 8
Constitution-10
Dexterity- 12
Intuition- 9
Magic power- 34
Mana capacity- 40
Skills:
• Mana Affinity ( E rank) – Increases natural sensitivity and efficiency with elemental mana.
Crystallised core ( E)
Ice Affinity (A)
Wind Affinity (B)
•Mana Manipulation (Active D rank) – Controls the flow and density of mana for spell shaping.
• Frost Shard (D) – Condenses moisture into piercing ice projectiles.
• Gale Pulse (D) – Releases a burst of concussive wind to knock back enemies.
• Chill Veil (D) – Lowers temperature in a short radius, slightly slowing enemy movement and spellcasting.
Name: Thorne
Class: Shieldbearer
Level: 19
Rank-0
Strength: 37
Constitution: 45
Skills:
• Shield Bash (D) – Delivers a stunning blow using momentum.
• Guard Lock (D) – Locks the shield in place for maximum defense, reducing knockback.
• Fortified Stance (Passive) – Gains increased defense when not moving.
Vergil nodded slowly, the pieces falling into place.
"Im vergil and my friend over her is Eleanor. Our quest was a missing persons request, the same as yours." he murmured, his gaze drifting to 'Kael'—no, Morvax, now hiding behind borrowed skin.
'Of course you'd lure them here. Playing helpless. How many adventurers have you fed on already?'
Kael gave a warm, relieved smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I'm lucky you all showed up when you did. I don't think I'd have made it out…"
'Liar,' Vergil thought, his eyes briefly flickering with a cold gleam.
Eleanor stood quietly beside him, arms folded and expression unreadable, but her sharp eyes never left Kael. She didn't need to speak to share the thought they both had:
This wasn't over.
The group slowly relaxed now that "Kael" had been rescued, their wariness dissolving into casual conversation far too quickly.
Darin grinned at Vergil, slinging his axe over his shoulder. "Didn't expect to run into anyone else this deep in. You two out here for the same job?"
Vergil's voice was smooth, casual. "Sure are."
Thorne cracked his knuckles. "Still, glad we found the guy. Could've been ugly if he stayed pinned under that log much longer."
Lira, the mage, nodded. "It's weird though. The mana around here... feels off. Almost like it's too stable, usually their would be fluctuations."
Kael, still playing the part of the grateful victim, spoke with practiced sincerity. "It feels normal to me. Thought maybe I was just panicking… but now…"
Vergil's expression remained neutral, but his thoughts turned sharp.
'They're too soft. Too eager to trust. You didn't even question why someone this deep into a cursed forest was alive and unharmed, let alone lying under a trap. Idiots.'
Darin clapped him lightly on the arm. "You two part of a guild?"
"No," Vergil replied flatly.
"Freelancers, huh?" Darin said, impressed. "You've got the vibe. Especially her."
He gestured toward Eleanor.
Eleanor didn't even blink. "Don't lump me in with you."
Lira tried to laugh it off. "She's… intense."
Vergil watched how easily they accepted them—no suspicion, no hesitation.
'You're all blind. And worse, you're trusting. You don't realize you're standing next to the very thing you came here to hunt. If I were him, I'd already be wearing one of your faces.'
Kael's eyes drifted back to Vergil, that hidden glint of recognition still flickering just beneath the surface.
"Thank you again," Kael said. "If you hadn't shown up…"
Vergil met his gaze and smiled.
Thorne looked at the treeline, scanning ahead. "We're supposed to be investigating disappearances, but so far, Kael's the first sign of anything weird."
Vergil tilted his head, calm. "We were planning to sweep the forest a bit more. Maybe we'll come across something together."
Darin brightened. "Yeah, sounds good. Safety in numbers."
'Or a convenient distraction,' Vergil mused, watching how quickly the boy nodded along.
He turned his eyes toward the trees.
'Too trusting. Too honest. You'll die with your eyes wide open, still believing the world's fair. But for now… you'll serve your purpose.'
Eleanor met his gaze briefly, a silent understanding passing between them.
And Kael—Morvax—watched from behind that false smile, excitement rising beneath the skin he wore.
The forest grew more twisted as they pressed forward. The trees leaned in closer, their bark blackened in patches, and the air turned colder—damp with something foul and ancient.
Vergil walked just ahead of the group, sword still sheathed, eyes scanning every shadow. Eleanor moved at his side, her posture stiff but alert. The others followed in loose formation, chatting softly.
Kael—Morvax—trailed at the back, every now and then feigning fatigue or brushing dirt from his clothes.
A break in the trees revealed what looked like the crumbled remains of a structure. Vines had overtaken most of it, and chunks of shattered stone lay scattered in moss. A weathered archway stood as the only intact piece, half-buried in fog.
"Is that… a ruin?" Lira asked, voice hushed.
Darin whistled. "Creepy place. Bet there's monsters nesting inside."
Thorne stepped forward, eyes narrowed. "Or worse."
Vergil didn't respond. He stared at the archway for a moment, then looked toward the darkened doorway that yawned just beyond the stone.
'This wasn't on any map. Which means it's important.'
Eleanor muttered under her breath, "This is the kind of place idiots wander into and never return."
Vergil's lips curved faintly. "Let's make sure we're not the idiots."
At the back, Morvax's smile wavered as he stared at the ruin—but not with fear. No, it was hunger that gleamed in his eyes.
'Perfect. We're finally here, with them I can finally open the gate'
He tilted his head slightly, gaze drifting toward Darin.
'That one dies first. Too loud. Annoying. Then the mage—she'll panic, her spells will backfire. The big one will fight, but he'll break. They always break.'
His eyes finally rested on Vergil.
'But you…'
The smile twitched wider.
'You're the only one who smells like danger. The only one I want to rip open slowly. I wonder… would you scream?'
But he kept the mask on. Kael, the victim. Kael, the survivor. He shivered visibly and wrapped his arms around himself.
"I… I don't know about this place. Something feels wrong."
Lira moved beside him and touched his shoulder. "We'll be fine. You're safe with us."
'Safe?' he thought, biting back a laugh. 'You poor guys.'
Vergil's eyes flicked back toward Kael for a heartbeat, sharp and unreadable.
"Let's go in," he said aloud.
The ruin waited, silent and cold.
And Morvax, still smiling, stepped in behind them—already imagining how beautiful the blood would look against the stone.
A/N
(Rate this)