It had been two days since the village burned—two long, bitter days since Elvira had faded like stardust in front of his eyes.
Vergil had only one goal now: reach the academy.
But as fate would have it—he was completely, utterly, infuriatingly lost.
The forest had thickened around them like a maze. The deeper they wandered, the more twisted the trees became, their roots clawing from the earth like skeletal hands. Trails forked in unpredictable directions—some leading to sharp cliffs, others into dead ends littered with thorns or strange creatures whose eyes blinked in the dark. Mist clung to the ground like a curse, distorting sounds, confusing direction.
And the map. The damn map.
Vergil had no clue how to use it. He held it with the air of someone who knew what they were doing—brows furrowed in deep concentration, lips tight, posture decisive—but it was all an act. The only useful things left in his inventory were the two recommendation letters Elvira had prepared before the attack. Everything else was either burned, broken, or soaked in blood.
He stood still now, in the middle of a crooked grove. His brown hair was tousled from the wind, his black eyes sharp but dulled by exhaustion. His boots were caked in thick, clinging mud. His cloak had been torn near the hem, the fibers still fraying with every movement.
Despite having activated the Authority of Transformation to mask his appearance, no illusion could hide the truth:
He was tired.
He was angry.
And he had absolutely no idea where the hell he was going.
[You're lost, aren't you.]
'Shut up. I know my way.'
[You definitely do, you clueless bastard.]
'Stop being mean.'
[Just trying to lighten the mood.]
Behind him, Eleanor came to a stop, panting slightly. Sweat clung to her forehead as she adjusted the weight of the small girl cradled in her arms—Elena, still unconscious since the attack.
"Vergil…" she said between breaths, "are you sure this is the right way?"
"No," he replied flatly, not even pretending this time.
She blinked. "Wait, what?"
"I have no clue where we are."
Her eyes widened. "You've been walking with so much confidence!"
"I'm always confident," he said, staring ahead. "Doesn't mean I know where I'm going."
Eleanor threw her arms up. "Unbelievable."
With a sharp exhale, Vergil walked over to a half-rotten log and sat down, placing Elena gently beside him. He rubbed at his temples, his fingers sticky with grime. His hair was damp with sweat, sticking to the sides of his face. His black eyes stared into the forest trail ahead as if hoping it would suddenly straighten out into the road he needed—but it never did.
"I'm going to be honest," he muttered, "this is really starting to piss me off."
Eleanor didn't respond. Instead, she just looked at him for a long, quiet moment. The fire that once burned bright had dimmed —not the dangerous hunger for strength he once carried. Not even the icy calculation she had seen in him before.
Just… something quieter.
Guilt in disguise.
She sat beside him.
"You're trying too hard to keep walking, but you don't know where your steps are leading, do you?" she asked softly.
Vergil didn't respond.
"Give me that," she added, snatching the crumpled map from his hands. She crouched over it, tracing the route they had taken, her brow furrowing. "We passed that ridge near the Wyrmroot tree two hours ago… the academy is north."
Vergil closed his eyes.
"We've been heading east," she added, letting the words sink in.
"…"
He clenched his jaw, tension rippling across his face. He couldn't even argue. Couldn't pretend anymore.
"I'm just tired," he muttered. "Let's rest a bit… you lead."
Eleanor's expression softened. "Don't blame yourself. What's done is done. You did all you could have done."
"But is that enough?" he asked, eyes flicking to a patch of broken trees—trees he remembered from the night the village burned. "Obession is good but to what extent. Ive lost as much as I gained in one day."
Then, without warning, Eleanor's hand shot out and slapped him straight across the face.
Crack.
[Damn, you got bitch slapped.]
Vergil blinked, stunned, rubbing his cheek. His head turned slowly.
"…The hell was that for?"
"Wake up, you moron," she snapped. "You're not the only one suffering in this world. Others have been through worse. You were confident, smart, and you did whatever it took to grow stronger. So stop sitting here like some defeated ghost and look at yourself."
Despite himself, his lips twitched. It was the first almost-smile in days.
Eleanor leaned in and hugged him tightly. Her voice softened. "You told me yourself, you wanted the world, so what are you waiting for."
He didn't respond right away. But then, with a slow, almost imperceptible nod, he returned the hug—just briefly.
"Didnt think i would need your comforting." he said after a pause. "It seems I still have a lot to learn about the world."
"Has it helped, huh?"
"No," he replied, deadpan. "Still a bastard."
Eleanor pulled back and smirked. "Well, you might be a bastard, that has no morales for others but you do care for those close, so let me take lead this time. So let's try heading north this time."
Vergil looked down at the letters still tucked in his hand. His fingers brushed over Elvira's seal—unbroken, pristine, untouched by flame. A fragile thing amidst the chaos.
He stood slowly, body heavy, but his steps… steadier.
And as they resumed their path—this time under Eleanor's lead—he glanced at the forest canopy above, where sunlight pierced through in streaks of gold and green.
"Elvira," he murmured under his breath, Ill show you what im capable off."
His brown hair caught the breeze, flicking across his face, eyes scanning the light-filtered leaves overhead.
"And when I do... I'll make it mean something."
They didn't know how long it would take to reach the academy. The forests of Vaeloria were unpredictable—paths shifting, weather changing without warning, creatures prowling through the trees.
But at least now, he wasn't walking alone.
And yet, even as they moved forward, Vergil glanced toward Elena—still unconscious, still so fragile.
Mentally, his burden had lightened.
But physically?
He glanced at the girl in his arms and let out a long sigh.
"…Carrying her is really starting to kill my back."
Eleanor laughed—a real, unexpected laugh that echoed through the trees like a breaking stormcloud.
"Well," she said, "next time, leave dead weights behind."
"Next time," he muttered, "I'm making you carry her, that way its not my problem."
"Not a chance."
They resumed walking, this time in the right direction
Vergil and his companion resumed their journey, this time heading in the right direction. The sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden glow over the ruined town behind them. The air was thick with the remnants of smoke and dust, carrying the scent of scorched wood and dried blood. Neither of them spoke as they walked along the cracked dirt road, their boots crunching against the gravel, the weight of recent events still heavy on their shoulders.
The road ahead stretched long and lonely, flanked by patches of wild grass and the occasional twisted, barren tree. It was clear that this path had not been well-maintained, with deep ruts carved into the earth from old wagon wheels and faint tracks left by animals—some natural, others... less so. Vergil kept a watchful eye on their surroundings, his hand resting near the hilt of his sword. Bandits, monsters, or worse could lurk beyond the tall grass, waiting for weary travelers to drop their guard.
As they continued, the landscape began to shift. The ruins of the town faded into the distance, giving way to rolling fields and sparse woodlands. The occasional bird call broke the silence, a stark contrast to the eerie quiet of where they had come from. A gentle breeze rustled through the leaves, carrying with it the scent of damp earth and distant rain. The sky, once a clear shade of blue, had begun to darken with heavy clouds.
Hours passed, and the exhaustion of travel began to settle in. The weight of his sword at his hip felt heavier, his steps slower. His companion, though keeping pace, was clearly worn as well. They needed rest, or better yet, a faster way to reach the capital.
[Primal Awareness has been activated]
Then, in the distance, Vergil spotted movement. A faint outline of something large rolling along the dirt road ahead—a caravan.
His eyes narrowed as he studied it. Several covered wagons trailed behind sturdy, well-fed horses, their wheels creaking as they moved. A handful of people walked alongside them, dressed in simple travel garb, while others rode on horseback, keeping watch. The caravan wasn't heavily guarded, but it was organized. Merchants, most likely, or travelers seeking safety in numbers.
Vergil motioned for his companion to follow as they picked up their pace. By the time they reached the caravan, a few of the guards had already taken notice, hands resting on their weapons in quiet warning.
"Hail, travelers," one of the riders called out, an older man with a weathered face and keen eyes. "You look like you've come a long way. What's your business?"
"We need passage to the capital," Vergil said plainly. "We can pay."
The man studied them for a long moment before nodding. "We've got space, but we don't take freeloaders. 10 copper a head."
Vergil didn't hesitate. He reached into his pouch, pulling out the required coins, and handed them over. The man inspected the silver before giving a short nod and gesturing to one of the wagons.
"Find a spot in the back. Keep your weapons sheathed, and don't cause trouble. We move fast and don't stop for long unless night falls."
Vergil simply nodded and climbed onto the wagon, letting out a quiet breath as he settled against the wooden side. The journey would still be long, but at least now, they wouldn't have to walk the whole way.
The wagon rocked gently as it moved along the uneven dirt road, the sound of wheels creaking and horses trotting filling the otherwise quiet night. The faint glow of the campfire flickered nearby, casting long, dancing shadows inside the wagon where Vergil sat, resting against the wooden side. He let out a quiet sigh, glancing down at Elina, who lay beside him, her breathing steady now. The worst of her wounds had been healed, but exhaustion still clung to her like a heavy shroud.
[At least we know now—trust Eleanor for navigation, not you.]
Vergil's eye twitched slightly at the remark, his gaze shifting to the side as if he could glare at the voice in his head.
"Finally," he muttered under his breath, exhaling as he adjusted Elina's position, making sure she was comfortable.
[You be quiet. You shouldn't be talking after everything you did.]
[I did nothing. Don't judge the innocent.]
Vergil scoffed, his lips pressing into a thin line. His eyes darkened for a moment before he shook his head, letting out a slow breath.
'You piss me off sometimes.'
A shift in movement caught his attention, and he turned his head just as Eleanor sat down beside him, her posture composed, yet alert. The firelight reflected in her brown eyes as they locked onto his, studying him closely. There was something intense about the way she looked at him, as if she were searching for something beyond just words.
"How are you holding up?" she asked, her voice steady.
Vergil met her gaze, his own expression softening slightly. His new appearance was still unfamiliar, even to himself. His once wilder, rougher features had refined, his hair had grown longer, and his overall presence had become more... imposing. Yet, in that moment, with Eleanor's eyes scanning him with quiet curiosity, he felt oddly at ease.
"Better than before," he said, a small, softer smile replacing the usual sharpness of his expression.
Eleanor didn't return the smile. Instead, her expression remained cold, calculating. "That's good. Remember our deal—you help me, and I help you."
Vergil held her gaze, noting the way her eyes remained unwavering, like steel sharpened over years of hardship. "I know. That was our deal."
She nodded but didn't say anything more. Yet, as he watched her out of the corner of his eye, he could tell—she was growing on him, and whether he wanted to admit it or not, it wasn't a bad thing.
The journey ahead would take a week, but with food and supplies provided by the caravan, it was a much better alternative to traveling on foot.
The Next Day
The steady rhythm of the wagon's movement continued as dawn broke over the horizon. The first golden rays of sunlight seeped through the wooden slats of the cart, illuminating the space with a soft, warm glow.
Then, there was a quiet stir beside him.
Vergil's gaze shifted down as Elina's breathing grew irregular, her body tensing slightly. A moment later, her eyelids fluttered open. Her brown eyes, still hazy with fatigue, flicked toward him—first with confusion, then with a sudden sharpness of awareness.
"Finally," Vergil said, his tone light, but his expression careful.
Elina blinked at him, still groggy. Her gaze darted around the wagon before settling back on him, this time more cautious, more alert.
"Who... are you?" she asked, her voice raspy from exhaustion.
Vergil hesitated.
Her brown eyes narrowed as she studied his face, her fingers twitching slightly as if preparing for a fight.
"It's me—Vergil," he said evenly, trying to keep his voice steady, calm.
Elina didn't relax. If anything, she seemed more on edge. Her eyes swept over him again, taking in his longer brown hair, his sharper features, the quiet intensity in his gaze.
"Vergil..." she repeated slowly, her suspicion only growing. "You look nothing like him."
Vergil exhaled through his nose.
'This is going to be a pain to explain…'
"Listen," he said, his voice lowering slightly. "The village was destroyed by the demons . There weren't any more survivors… other than you."
Her eyes widened slightly at that, her breath hitching. For the first time, the sharpness in her expression wavered, replaced by something more fragile—something closer to fear.
Vergil braced himself. This conversation was far from over.
The steady rocking of the wagon filled the silence between them, the rhythmic creak of the wooden wheels blending with the distant chatter of other travelers in the caravan. The warm glow of the campfire flickered, casting shifting shadows across the wagon's interior. Vergil sat across from Elina, his gaze sharp yet calm as she slowly came to terms with the weight of his words.
Her brown eyes, still clouded with exhaustion, darted between him and Eleanor, searching for something—answers, reassurance, or maybe just a sign that this wasn't real. But reality was unrelenting.
"The caravan is heading to the capital," Vergil finally said, his voice steady but carrying a quiet weight. "But we're going to Vaeloria academy."
Elina's expression tightened. "The academy?"
Vergil nodded. "It's the best place to grow stronger. Which we both want but whatever path you choose." He leaned back slightly, arms resting on his knees. "That's where we're headed."
Elina looked down, her fingers gripping the edge of the wooden bench she was sitting on. The rough wood dug into her palms, grounding her thoughts as they raced. After a long pause, she spoke.
"I… have family in the capital," she said quietly.
Vergil's eyes narrowed slightly. "Family?"
She nodded, though hesitation flickered across her face. "An uncle. I haven't seen him in years, but… if anyone's still alive, it's him." Her voice wavered slightly, but she quickly steadied herself. "I need to find him."
Vergil exhaled, studying her closely. He could see the conflict in her eyes—the uncertainty, the fear, but also the determination.
"You sure about that?" he asked. "If he's still there, and if he'll even take you in, what then?"
Elina's jaw clenched. "Then I'll decide what to do next."
Eleanor, who had been silent up until now, finally spoke, her voice cutting through the tension with a cool certainty. "There's another option."
Elina turned her head sharply toward her. "What do you mean?"
"The academy allows a student to bring a servant with them," Eleanor explained, her brown eyes steady. "Either me or Vergil could take you in as our servant. That way, you wouldn't be alone, and you'd have a chance to train if you have enough potenital."
Vergil crossed his arms, watching Elina's reaction carefully. She blinked, clearly caught off guard by the offer. Her hands twitched slightly in her lap as she processed the idea.
"Becoming a servant..." she murmured. There was no anger in her tone, just uncertainty.
Eleanor leaned forward slightly, her gaze unwavering. "It wouldn't mean actual servitude. It's just a status. A way to stay at the academy legally without being a student."
'I had no clue, that was a thing'
[Leave it to Eleanor since a certain dumb fuck is clearly lost in his own world]
'That wasn't mean, it was just rude'
Vergil nodded. "I would say its a safer bet, since its uncertain whether your uncle is there."
Elina looked between them, the flickering fire casting shadows across her face. A heavy silence hung in the air as she considered her choices.
"The caravan reaches the capital in a weeks time ," Eleanor reminded her. "You don't have much time to decide ."
Elina bit her lip, eyes flicking toward the darkness beyond the wagon. The journey ahead would be short, but the decision she made here would shape everything that came next.
The night settled over the caravan like a heavy blanket, the sky stretching endlessly above them, speckled with countless stars. The air was cool, carrying the faint scent of woodsmoke and dry earth as the campfire crackled at the center of the makeshift camp. The merchants, guards, and travelers all gathered in small groups, their quiet conversations blending with the distant chirping of night insects.
Vergil sat with his back against the wagon's wheel, absently chewing on a piece of dried meat from the merchants' supplies. The food was simple—bread, salted meats, and a bit of cheese—but after days of hardship, it was more than welcome. He glanced over at Eleanor and Elina, who sat a little ways from the fire, talking in hushed voices.
Elina still looked a little unsteady, exhaustion clinging to her like a shadow, but her expression was more composed now, as if the warmth of the fire and the presence of others grounded her. Eleanor, on the other hand, remained as calm and controlled as ever, her brown eyes steady as she spoke.
"You've been quiet," Eleanor observed, tearing a piece of bread in half.
Elina sighed, her fingers tracing the edge of her wooden plate. "Still thinking."
Eleanor took a bite of her food, chewing slowly before responding. "About your uncle?"
Elina hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah… If he's still alive, if he even remembers me. If he'd even take me in." Her voice was quiet, almost lost in the crackling of the fire. "I don't know what to expect."
Eleanor studied her for a moment. "And if he's not there?"
Elina frowned, her fingers tightening around the bread in her hands. "Then… I don't know."
Eleanor took a sip from a waterskin before speaking again. "You don't strike me as someone who just drifts without a purpose."
Elina let out a short, tired laugh. "I don't feel like I have much of a choice right now."
"You do," Eleanor countered, leaning slightly forward. "The academy is an option. Becoming a servant there wouldn't mean giving up your freedom—it would just give you time. Time to get stronger, to figure things out, instead of throwing yourself into the unknown with nothing."
Elina looked away, her gaze lingering on the fire. "It just feels… strange," she admitted. "Like I'd be depending on someone else's kindness."
Eleanor scoffed lightly. "Kindness has nothing to do with it. We're not offering you charity—we're giving you a path forward." Her voice was calm, but there was a certain sharpness to it. "It's practical. You survive, you learn, and you decide your future on your terms, instead of waiting for the world to decide it for you."
Elina didn't answer right away. The fire crackled between them, casting dancing shadows across her face. She glanced toward Vergil, who was watching the conversation with quiet interest, but he didn't say anything—just gave her a small nod, as if telling her to keep thinking.
Elina took a slow breath. "I'll think about it," she finally said.
Eleanor leaned back slightly, satisfied. "Good."
The camp gradually quieted as people finished their meals, settling into their wagons or laying out blankets near the fire. The night stretched on, and though Elina's decision remained uncertain, one thing was clear—she couldn't afford to stand still forever.
Vergil was still thinking, his skills were good enough for now he had reached D rank in less than 2 weeks, but the weakest in their is C Rank, I wonder how many stat points they have and the skills they use.
Vergils desire to eat was awakening again, it seems I'm more power hungry than ever,
'Status window
Name:Vergil
Level-16
Title-commoner, Bastard, Burden Carrier
Lifespan- 65 years
Spouses-none
Race:Human
Class:All master
Strength-47 (+0.12)
Constitution-49 (0.15)
Dexterity-48 (0.11)
Intuition-17
Magic power-3
Mana capacity-4
Demonic energy-50
Equipment
Basic clothing- +2 defense
Authorities
Authority of predation (???)
Authority of Transformation (A)
Passive skills-Crude Weapon Proficiency(F)
Keen Focus (F) 35%
Basic sword-bow mastery (F+) 75%
Nocturnal stalker (E)
Basic camouflage (F)
Lesser hunger resistance (F-)
Mana Organ (F) [Growth type]
Mana Affinity (F+)
Resilient body (E) 60%
Tainted Blood (E-)
Beast Tamer (E-)
Keen Reflexes (F)
Steadfast Stance (F)
Pack synergy (E-)
Tough body (E) 15%
Carrion sense (F+)
Burial adaptation (F)
Pack Mentality (F+)
Corpse parasite (E-)
Predatory Scent (E+)
Primal Awareness (E+)
Hunting Focus (F) –
Adrenaline Flight (E)
Toxic Resilience (E) 5%
Verdant Core (E+)
Toxin Spores (F)
Fungal Armor (F)
Spore Sense (F)
Verdant Regeneration Core (C- ) 12%
Endurance Core (D-)
Stagger Resistance (E+)
Bloodlust (E+)
Rage Flow (E)
Combat Instinct (E+)
Muscle Tension Control (E)
Mana Sense (E+)
Mimic Flesh (D)
Instinctive Adaptation (D)
Monstrous Vitality (D+)
Arcane mind (A max)
Mana efficiency (S max)
Calm Spirit (B)
Spellcraft Mastery (A max)
Sharp eyed instructor (C max)
Active skills
Rapid Precision (F+)
Pack Tactics (F)
Feral Charge (F)
Adrenaline surge (E-)
Keen smell (E)
Pounce (F)
Crippling claws (E-)
Howl of Coordination (F+)
Command Beast (E-)
Venomous edge (F+) 20%
Quick Draw (F)
Swift Counter (F+)
Savage claw (F+)
Power Strike (F+)
Quick guard (F) 10%
Thrust (F) 45%
Slash (F) 36%
Dagger rush (E-)
Frenzied hunger (E)
Deaths Taint (E-)
Parry (F)
Ember Spark (F) Max
Frost Touch (F) Max
Predators fang (E+)
Shadow dash E-)
Aerial Predator (E-)
Pack Coordination (E)
Rotlash (F) x4
Spore Mist (F)
Limb Burst (F) x4
Root Snare (F)
Mire Slam (F)
Fungal Eruption (E-)
Mycelial Surge (E)
Rooted Recovery (F)
Toxic Burst (F)
Shield Slam (F)
Crushing Blow (E+)
Body Slam (E)
Hatchet Tornado (E+)
Blood Frenzy (D-)
Bone-Cracker (E+) 32%
Pummel Flurry (E+) 37%
Vaulting Strike (D-) 34%
Healing Surge (D)
Spirit Shackles (D-)
Bloodfire Blessing (E+)
Taunt (F) 10%
Ice Thread (F) 53%
Morph Form (D)
Echo Movement (D)
Flesh Puppet (C)
Special constitution-None
Arts-The lowest form the highest peak
Special eyes-Gods demonic left eye
Available stat points-18
'Thats alot to take in' Vergil thought as he scanned through the list.
'Monsterous Vitality, how did Morvax heal his limbs, this skill is worse than mine. There's only one explanation, demonic energy.
'But how?' Vergil thought 'I dont want to risk anything
'System any ideas'
[Ill tell you what I can, demonic energy can be used to enhance one's regeneration abilities to an extent, at the cost of increasing the users desires to uncontrollable levels and the persons body starts to turn into a demon, the good thing is you don't have to worry about turning into a demon thanks to your eye]
[However it will take you a while to be able to do things like Morvax since you have never used demonic energy until now]
'Desires?'
[Each desire usually relates to the seven sins]
'Still don't get it'
[Its better to give an example, let's take Morvax,when he regenerates certain things happen that causes him to become more violent, as for you well... you can figure that out yourself]
'What certain things'
[Figure it out yourself]
'Then what about Transformation'
[Quite minimal since its an authority]
'Makes sense'
'My desires huh' Vergil thought deeply about it 'it would most likely relate to gluttony wouldn't it'
Oh well. Ill just get rid of some skills beofre sleeping
'Get rid of Fungal Armor, 4 rotlash'
[40 F-rank evolution points have been obtained
'Now limb burst, its a final use card since I still don't have a skill to regenerate limbs.
'Combination, combine 3 limb Burst'
Combining skills... combination successful
Trinity rupture (D-)
Description:
By sacrificing three limbs at once, the user triggers a massive acid explosion, releasing a corrosive nova in a 10-meter radius. The inner 4 meters are lethally acidic, while the outer mist causes burning damage over time.
Vergil took one look at the skill and immediately converted it into evolution points
[User has gained 10 D- rank evolution points]
'Their aint no way im sacrificing 3 limbs'
[What a pussy]
Vergil ignored the system and headed straight to sleep before he muttered
"3 limbs is too much'
[If you do use it, i can call you special]