The clash of flesh and power echoed through the ruined chamber, the stench of blood and rot thick in the air.
Vergil laughed.
It wasn't the laugh of joy or amusement—but something colder, sharper. A laugh born from instinct, chaos, and violence. It echoed through the broken stone, bouncing off shattered pillars and corpse-littered ground.
"You're not bad," Vergil grinned, sweat streaking down his face, fists crackling with ambient mana. "But you're still not me."
Morvax, now back in his grotesque original form—his waxy, twisted flesh writhing and pulsating, six jagged arms twitching erratically—screamed and lunged. His left arm, shaped into a jagged obsidian blade, slashed down in a brutal arc.
Vergil stepped into it.
[Keen Gaze – Active]
[Mana Affinity]
He twisted his body just enough to let the blade scrape past his ribs, pain flashing bright, but his counterstrike was faster—his right fist snapped forward like a cannon, slamming into Morvax's stomach. The impact folded the mimic slightly, forcing blackened breath from his maw of childlike teeth.
Morvax lashed out with a hooked bone-sickle. Vergil dropped low, swept his leg into a spinning kick that cracked against Morvax's knee, and rose with a sharp elbow into his chin.
"You keep copying," Vergil snarled, blood running from a shallow cut along his side, "but you don't understand."
Morvax hissed, stumbling back, adjusting, adapting.
"You're nothing but a copy."
The flesh doll-thing trembled with fury, its veins pulsing black as it screeched and surged forward again, swinging wildly.
But Vergil's eyes gleamed. His stance adjusted. Fists rose again, channeling the brutal rhythm of the ogre's martial style—low, forceful, unrelenting.
A deep breath.
A slow smile.
"Come on, Morvax. Let's dance."
Morvax's grotesque face twitched violently, childlike teeth grinding as a low, distorted growl bubbled from his throat.
"You mock me—me!" he roared, every muscle in his writhing, gray-flesh body tightening. "You think this is a game!?"
Dark veins pulsed beneath his translucent skin as he lunged, all six arms swinging with maddened fury. Bone, blade, claw—every movement faster, more reckless, more violent.
Vergil didn't flinch.
He sidestepped one claw, ducked beneath a bone-sickle, and blocked a mimicry of his own punch with a snort.
"You're too loud when you're angry." He gave a twisted grin, blood on his teeth. "Makes you easier to read."
Then—his fingers twitched.
A small, precise motion behind his back.
The signal.
Hidden behind a crumbled column, Eleanor's pale eyes shimmered with faint silver light. She exhaled, her hand snapping forward as her lips moved in a swift, practiced chant.
[Entangling Snare – Active]
The ground beneath Morvax's malformed legs cracked open.
A surge of thick, mana-infused vines shot out like serpents, wrapping around his lower body with terrifying force. Bark-like thorns bit into his flesh, halting his charge mid-motion.
"Wha—!?" Morvax screeched, looking down in stunned fury. "Get off me!"
He slashed wildly with his bladed arm, hacking at the vines. But they only tightened, glowing faintly with runes from Eleanor's precision casting.
Vergil cracked his knuckles, rolling his shoulders as he slowly stepped forward.
"Anger makes you sloppy," he said, voice low. "And I told you already…"
He raised his fists again, stance grounded, that brutal ogre-style rippling through his limbs like a coil of violence ready to snap.
"You're not me."
Vergil shot forward like a released arrow, the cracked stone beneath his feet shattering from the force of his launch. He closed the distance between them in a flash, his form a blur of muscle, rage, and mana-enhanced precision.
Morvax barely had time to register the movement.
CRACK.
Vergil's fist collided with his face—flesh, bone, and tendons compressed against sheer force as the mimic's head was slammed into the cold stone floor.
SMASH.
He did it again. Blood splattered in a wide arc, painting the ground and the remains of broken pillars in violent crimson.
SMASH.
The third blow cracked the surface beneath Morvax's skull. Each strike landed with terrifying rhythm, like a war drum sounding a brutal end. The mutated mimic's six arms twitched helplessly, some clawing at the floor, others flailing in broken patterns.
Eleanor watched from the edge of the shadows, arms folded, her face calm—almost serene. A faint smile tugged at her lips, her expression unreadable but satisfied.
Vergil raised his fist again.
"That's enough!" Morvax roared, his voice a guttural wave of hatred and panic.
With a violent surge of strength, he tore free from the entangling roots, bark and vine exploding outward in a blast of dark energy. He leapt back, putting a wide distance between them, panting heavily as his grotesque body trembled.
Chunks of broken roots still clung to his limbs, blood dripping from his twisted face. As he started to regenerate again, however he reached his limit and his face didn't fully heal.
His inky-black eyes narrowed.
I'm going to lose.
His breathing was ragged, muscles sore. Even with his regeneration, Vergil was faster—more precise. Stronger.
His gaze drifted—just for a second—to the center of the room.
The altar. The red jade.
It pulsed faintly now, as if it had been awakened by the blood already spilled.
If I can't win… then I'll sacrifice myself to open the gate.
His clawed fingers tightened.
But I need an opening.
Morvax took a deep breath, his voice soft now, as if trying to hide the fear behind a veil of pride.
"…You really are a monster, Vergil."
Morvax roared, surging forward with reckless fury. The ground cracked beneath each step as he lunged, his grotesque form a blur of rage and twisted muscle. His six arms slashed through the air—one a jagged blade, another a hooked sickle, all of them aimed to rip Vergil apart.
But Vergil didn't move to meet him head-on.
He smirked.
'Dumbass, you really think I didnt see through you.' Vergil chuckled internally.
With uncanny calm, he stepped backward—once, twice—his body weaving through the strikes with just inches to spare. Then his hand closed around the hilt of his sword, still buried in the stone floor behind him.
"Got you," Vergil muttered.
Shadow Dash—activated.
In an instant, his body vanished into the shadows, and then reappeared just behind Morvax—sword already in motion.
SLASH. SLASH. SLASH.
Three of Morvax's arms went flying, severed at the joint. A spray of black-red blood burst into the air like a violent fountain, and Morvax howled in agony, staggering forward.
And then—
"Volt Lance."
Eleanor's voice was cool and focused.
A spear of crackling blue lightning shot from her palm with precision, searing through the air and impaling Morvax through the chest. The bolt blasted out his back in a burst of charred flesh and acrid smoke, pinning him against a half-collapsed wall.
His body convulsed, flickering between shapes as his mimicry faltered, sparks dancing across his skin.
"You-You lier" he said as his mouth coughed out black blood "it was supposed to be a fair fight"
Vergil stood behind him, sword crackling faintly with residual heat from Ember Blaze, watching coldly as Morvax writhed.
"...You know, we are both liars so why did you believe me." Vergil said flatly.
Eleanor stepped beside Vergil, her pale eyes still humming with the aftershock of magic. Wisps of smoke rose from her fingertips as she lowered her hand, the scent of burnt flesh lingering in the air. She glanced at Morvax—mutilated, twitching, barely clinging on.
She tilted her head slightly, voice soft but laced with mockery.
"You really thought we'd play fair? How adorably naive."
Her lips curled into a cool smile as arcs of residual lightning danced along her wrist. "Next time you wear someone's face, try not to die wearing it." As the mouths started to eat him alive.
Vergil grabbed the blood jade 'it only needed a bit more based on Morvax's final action' He sighed as his eyes gazed on it before a bunch of blue panels appeared on his retina.
[User has gained 5 strength, 5 constitution and 5 dexterity]
[User has gained 6 skills]
[User has gained Morvax's Authority-Transformation]
[User has gained 50 points into demonic energy]
The demonic energy seeped into Vergil as he screamed in agony
Vergil's body writhed on the stone floor, his screams echoing through the ruined chamber. Blood poured from his left eye, thick and dark, as the veins along his neck and face pulsed violently with demonic energy. The air around him distorted with heat and pressure, warped by the overwhelming force trying to invade and reshape him from within.
'The fuck is going on, shouldn't he have... a crystal'
[User has satisfied conditions]
[Warning: Assimilation in progress…]
[Authority of Predation is reacting abnormally…]
[Redirecting demonic energy to designated vessel: Left Eye]
He clutched at the ground, nails digging into the stone as his muscles tensed and spasmed uncontrollably. His mouth opened in a silent cry before another agonized scream tore from his throat.
"Vergil!" Eleanor shouted, her boots splashing through the blood-streaked dust as she rushed to his side.
He didn't hear her.
He was lost in the pain.
Eleanor dropped to her knees beside him, her breath catching at the sight of him—shaking, burning, breaking. The left side of his face was now glowing with an eerie, pulsating heat. His back arched again, a raw, guttural sound escaping him as his body refused to calm.
Without a word, Eleanor gently placed a hand on his shoulder, grounding him.
"…You're not dying here," she muttered, voice steady but quiet. "Not after all that shit you pulled off."
She gritted her teeth and hoisted him up with effort, slinging one of his arms over her shoulder.
"I've got you."
Vergil's weight was heavy—limp, but still twitching from the inner war waging in his body. As they left the altar and the glowing jade behind, his screams grew fainter, but the agony hadn't passed.
The assimilation was only beginning.
Vergil's body convulsed violently in Eleanor's grip, his head lolling forward as blood streamed from his left eye in a thick, steady trail. Every few steps, a tremor tore through him—his spine arching, his fists clenching tight enough to draw blood from his palms.
[Assimilation Progress: 10%]
[Warning: Severe System Strain Detected]
[User's body is undergoing forced adaptation. Pain levels exceeding tolerance threshold.]
He was burning.
Inside and out, something was clawing at him—no, through him—like fangs tearing apart his nerves and muscles and soul all at once. The demonic energy surging through his veins refused to settle, crashing against the natural mana in his body like a storm devouring the shore.
Eleanor struggled to keep him upright. His weight dragged at her, and his writhing made it nearly impossible to carry him smoothly. But she didn't let go.
"Dammit, Vergil," she muttered, sweat running down her brow as she adjusted his arm over her shoulder. "What did you do to yourself?"
He groaned, his teeth grinding together, jaw clenched against another scream as his legs buckled.
[Assimilation Progress: 11%…]
His skin flickered faintly with that same dark energy—the kind that seeped from corrupted monsters and ancient relics. But it was deeper. Purer. Or perhaps more twisted.
The veins around his left eye bulged with a black tint, glowing faintly like burning roots beneath his skin. Each breath he took sounded like it cost him everything.
Eleanor's fingers tightened around his waist.
"Just hold on a little longer," she whispered, eyes flicking back toward the altar glowing faintly behind them. "You've survived worse, haven't you?"
'If I had, this would be nothing.' Vergil wished to scream out.
Vergil's only answer was another low, ragged cry as the demonic energy inside him raged—slowly, mercilessly claiming its place. The process had only begun, and his torment was far from over.
Vergil's body convulsed in Eleanor's arms, his skin pale and slick with blood and sweat as she struggled to keep him steady. Each step she took away from the desecrated altar was met with resistance—not from him, but from the violent power twisting inside his body.
[Assimilation Progress: 15.5%]
[Warning: Demonic Eye Manifestation Incomplete]
[Left Eye: inconplete]
His head jolted back with a raw scream, and that's when she saw it—his left eye glowing an unnatural red, but not whole. The iris was fractured, jagged around the edges, and the slit pupil pulsed erratically. The sclera darkened only halfway, the rest still flickering with hints of its human past.
The transformation was fighting itself.
Eleanor's breath hitched as a sudden wave of pressure burst from his body. Dark tendrils of demonic energy cracked the earth beneath them, forcing her to stop and drop to one knee to brace him.
"Vergil… stay with me," she whispered, placing a hand over his chest as vines of green and black energy coiled up his neck, wrapping around his jaw.
His jaw clenched, fangs starting to form, his breathing ragged.
[Verdant Regeneration Core Activated]
[Stabilizing Vital Signs… Minimal Success]
Still, the pain was too much.
Vergil screamed again—louder this time—before his body gave out and collapsed in her grasp, unconscious. His eye flickered, the red glow dimming slightly as if still deciding whether to finish the change… or consume him entirely.
She pulled him close.
"The eye's not done…" she murmured, heart pounding. "But we don't have time to wait for it to finish."
The assimilation had only just begun. And with a half-formed eye, half a demon's power—and twice the danger—Vergil was walking the edge of something far darker than she feared.
Outside, beneath the pale shimmer of the moon, Eleanor stumbled through the underbrush, Vergil's limp body slung over her shoulder. His body still writhed in agony, teeth clenched even in unconsciousness, and his left eye—only half-formed—bled freely. A thin stream of crimson dripped down his chee
Then it happened.
The blood jade in Vergils hand trembled faintly… then pulsed, as it absorbed Vergils blood
Eleanor froze as she felt it, a deep, vibrating hum—like something alive.
Vergil's blood, freshly spilled from his eye, absorbed into the jade. The moment it touched the cursed crystal, it glowed with a sickly red light. A sudden, sharp gust of air howled through the trees, making Eleanor's hair whip across her face.
Then—
A pulse.
Like a heartbeat. But not from Vergil.
It came from behind them. From the direction of the ruined temple.
"God fucking dammit—"
She turned her head just in time to see the distant horizon ignite with light. A streak of red and green tore through the sky, a pillar of energy erupting from the altar. The air shimmered and cracked as space bent around it. Even miles away, she could hear the faint shrieking—voices not meant for this world—echoing through the night.
The portal had begun to open.
Eleanor's breath caught in her throat. "That damn jade… It didnt absorb dead people, it absorbed blood ."
And now the ritual had completed itself.
Her grip on Vergil tightened. She couldn't take him to Vaelmont, it was too far away and she didn't have enough stamina to run and carry Vergil. So she opted to run in a different direction
She turned and ran, pushing herself harder with each step as the energy behind her flared in the blue sky
Vergil groaned in her arms, the pain not yet fading.
His half-formed eye flickered again—still bleeding, still pulsing with demonic energy.
And behind them… the portal to the demonic continent widened.