I didn't mean to be very slow on this update. This was supposed to be done in June, but nooo, I got sidetracked with writing something entirely new that intrigue with how original it is, and how it was flexing my creativity of how to build the world and characters that aren't canon. Either way, enjoy!

Chapter 3: Judgement

After a month and a half of not going back to the demon world, it was time for Vergil to test what he has learned so far. Each time he opens a portal to its world, he's never in the same spot as before, but he's always constantly fighting whatever demons caught his scent. Compared to before; he was more patient instead of quickly slashing his way through the demons. When they strike, he parries and strikes back. When they think they have him surrounded, he uses his summoning sword to showcase he can't be blindsided, and when they're all dead beneath him, he flicks his sword so the blood of the demons won't stain it.

The teachings from the queen of Cintra were coming in handy, especially with how he incorporates his father's style into it. Vergil could go on and find Beowulf to seek his revenge, but again, Vergil knew he wasn't strong enough to fight him just yet. And not only that, they're always this inkling of a presence watching him as he fights. It made his skin crawl, and he knew who was watching him, 'You see this Mundus? I'm growing stronger every day, and one day you'll be slain by my hand.'

With a bit of concentration to where he wanted to go, sensing the place he once opened the portal, Vergil swipes vertically and horizontally, opening the portal back to the human world. Because he isn't worried about the demons, he could properly focus where his teleportation can be, and he still had some business in Skellige for the time being.

Going through the portal, he made sure to close it behind him so no demons would ever sleep their way into the human world. He was a bit further from one of the villages that were a few roads away from Kaer Trolde. Being further away meant people don't eyeball him, or look to try to bring pitchforks to cast him from sorcery magic as they would put it. The horse he had was busy eating someone's crops, enough so that they were trying to shoo him off, "Damn horse! Shoo!"

The horse, in response, became agitated at being disturb and proceeded to kick the guy away. This unexpected event got Vergil to chuckle lightly. Vergil made sure to be gentle with the horse, lightly rubbing his hand on his back to his face, allowing it to make sure it recognizes it was the rider. Vergil even let it continue eating the crops until it was ready to move on, "You proud of yourself?! I spent weeks getting these things to grow! And now I gotta do it over again!" Vergil ignores what the man was spewing, and it wasn't his problem nor his fault in the matter.

He got on his horse and rode forward to get out of the village. That is until a crazy maniac from the village was screaming and swinging his axe, hurting those around him and himself. Vergil kept his horse away from the man as he continued watching the scene unfolding. If it weren't for one of the Skellige warriors tackling him and restraining him, people would have likely died. Yet it didn't stop him from biting his tongue hard enough where he ended up choking in his own blood. Villagers were in shock; some had to cover their children's eyes and put them in the house, and others shook their heads.

The horse somehow became agitated for whatever reason, which curious Vergil, not to mention; he felt like something was watching him, somewhere his eyes couldn't see. Vergil got off his horse to observe the crazed dead man, ignoring the people trying to keep him away from the scene, 'Nothing that speaks volume of why he went crazy. Neither his eyes nor his body gave off anything. Could be him finally coming to a breaking point, or… A higher power is here at work, one that took control of this man like a doll,' Vergil summarized the whole scene to himself.

He definitely knew no one was sane enough to just swing their axe mindlessly like that. Vergil didn't want to look at the easy picture but the big picture at hand. So he instead thought of what had that kind of power to take control of humans, 'Some demons can do that, but I've made sure none seep into the world of humans, but, specters are something that could indeed have some type of power to control a human. Ordinary ones come from those who die and are attached to that person or place, having some unfinished business with reality, and can't be at peace. But what if…'

Vergil heard a tap-tap noise coming from someone's mouth, "Poor fella," Vergil look to his side to see someone crouching as he too seems like he was observing the body, "Saw the worst of his demons he couldn't let go of," he lacked any hair on his head, had eyes that look to be black but was actually brown, had two small bags on him; one by the side of his blue pants and the other wrap around his neck along with a brown cloak over his orange long sleeve shirt, and also had both a flute and wrap papes on the other side of his pants as well wearing black boots on his feet, "Nothing anyone could have done to stop his death from happening, except a witcher of course, but there's none around Skellige."

Vergil plans to ignore who this person was and get back to Kaer Trolde, "The whole scene was curious in itself. Right, Vergil?"

Before he can even get on his horse, Vergil's eyes snap back at the man who's grinning with such utter cockiness of knowing the name his mother and father gave to him that it almost infuriated him, "Just because you know my name doesn't mean you know me."

"Sure, your right," he stood up, hands clap behind his back as he stock over Vergil, "Never met you in my life," he walks over to his horse where he gently rubbed it by his back. The horse shook his head as it moved away from the man and moved towards Vergil, not liking this man's presence not one bit, "But I knew your father though," the mysterious man saw how Vergil's eyes steadily widened, "Now I capture your interest huh?"

From widened eyes to squinting eyes, Vergil was trying to figure out who this person was in front of him. How does he know his father? When did he meet him? Have they worked together? All these were questions Vergil needed answering, "The clothes you wear suggest you're a merchant. You've done business with my father in the past?"

"Ha! Business?" he chuckled, "More like your dad and I had conversations. We had different views on the jobs we do, the people we meet. Try making him see eye to eye what he can still do on this earth. Yet, your father rather be a family man than taking business opportunities," the man can see how Vergil was grinding his teeth, having his hand by his sword from how he talked about his father, "Respectable though," he put his hand up to dial down Vergil, but he was still on guard ready to strike him down if he needs to, "We parted ways on decent terms. Now here I am talking to his only living son."

And he knew that his family had fallen. It only serves to bring more questions, and how to pitch on the living irker Vergil, "Here you are, true. The question is, what do you want from me, merchant?"

"Ah," again the Merchant had his hand behind his back as he towers over Vergil, "Straight to the point like your father Sparda. It's not what I want from you that matters right now, it's what I can do for you," he was now close to Vergil, having the height advantage and basking in that glory, "You want power, right? Power to stand up to… hmmmmm what was his name again?" Momentarily, the merchant had his hands by his chin, "Oh!" he snapped his fingers, "Mundus."

The name Mundus made Vergil spine shiver, the name alone meant a lot of things to Vergil; the most powerful demon, the ruler of the demon world, the demon who murdered his family, the demon who took away his home, and most of all, the demon who he must kill. And with this merchant speaking his name, Vergil knew one thing as he glared at him, "You're no ordinary merchant… In Fact, you're not a merchant at all. To know my father and his death. Begs to wonder, are you a demon?"

He again chuckled, finding the situation rather hysterical and ironic, "There are just some questions that'll go unanswered I'm afraid, but let's say I help you figure out this little dispute in this small village. I help you, and you help me. Vise versa and continually."

Vergil, had his arm crossed, "Why would I agree to such things?"

"You're right not to trust me. Your father didn't either, and I expect nothing less from you. But, to gain the power you so desire, you gotta seek every opportunity to gain whatever power you seek. No matter where it's from," he then got close enough to whisper into Vergil's ear, "Without your father, there's no way you'll learn how to get stronger with him. Doing all this alone means progress will be slow if you wanna be strong enough to kill Mundus."

Vergil did not like this guy. He's an enigma, knows much about his father, possibly knows more than he's telling, and most of all, his utter presence stood out like a sore thumb. This presence he felt wasn't human at all, more close to a demon, but not by a long shot somehow. He isn't wrong, he needs power, more power, and if he can offer it, he should take it, and deal with the consequences afterward.

Besides, nothing else matters besides power, "Alright… What can you do for me to gain power."

His smirk became devious as he clapped his hand twice. The next thing Vergil realized was something taking their twisted evilness inside his body, causing him to buckle down to his knees, "Ahhh!" Vergil shut his eyes, clasp his hand to his head, as he can feel something tearing inside of him, searching for something beyond what he can even think of.

And then he saw them.

"VERGIL!"

"FATHER I'M SORRY!"

"WHATEVER HAPPENS, TAKE CARE OF YOUR MOTHER AND BROTHER!"

"DAD!"

"DON'T WORRY ABOUT ME… GAH… YAH! YOUR PAPA WILL CONQUER THIS LIKE HE'S CONQUER IT BEFORE."

"DADD!"

Memories of the past. Memories of why he was here. Memories that were his fault.

His fault.

His fault.

His fault.

My fault

My fault

My fault

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Whatever is inside Vergil, he released it out of him with a shockwave that for a second caused him to be in his devil form and the next back to his human form. As soon as it came, it went, and Vergil was clutching the ground, taking each breath as he needed it badly. He looks up to see the merchant gone, the villagers looking at him curiously and even to some extent helping him, but with him gone, he turns behind him where the presence of this spector was now leached into one of the other town folks. Vergil can feel it, feel its utter presence as it was using people to exist in this world, 'So this is what killed that man. Forcing the person to experience the memories that revolve around guilt, the things they regret most, and quite possibly, maybe even the things they have done that are considered a sin.'

'Hm..' He stood up and took a huge breath in and out, 'The path to power is becoming more clear. I need rest, or more so I need to prep myself for the battle to come.'

The next day passed, and Vergil was working on defeating this new enemy he would soon face. The months that also passed by Hjalmar had healed up nicely from going face-first into the cold ice. Vergil and Hjalmar had formed a respectable admiration for each other. Hjalmar would offer things he can do as to pay back for Vergil helping him get the aid he needed, but all Vergil asked for was a sparring partner every once in a while.

And a day like any other, Veril had him on his knees, "Do you yield?" Vergil asked while Hjalmar gathered his breath. He didn't answer and neither yielded as his roar was heard just as he aimed his wooden sword at Vergil's chest. Vergil, swift as always, moved away from his attack and Hjalmar was back up pressing him on the offense. Hjalmar would always use his stamina to good use, never stopping his many swings, never getting tired, and just when Vergil would switch stances to counteract Hjalmar swing he instead would use his hands, feet, and even head to gain an advantage.

If anything that Verigl noted about Hjalmar is that he fights to win no matter what he has or doesn't have. This earns both rivals either a grin or a ghost of a smirk. As their sparring went on, their grunts and roar rage on, Cirilla was too busy distracted from those two sparring. Enough so she was taken down with a simple sweep by Cerys, "Your focus should stay on me, not my brother, Cirilla."

Cirilla huffed, she wasn't too pleased; she remembered that like Vergil, Cerys was also very formal even when it came to her name. Cirilla aimed a sweep of her own that Cerys was a bit careless to notice the sneaky sweep, "Ha! Look who needs paying attention!"

Cerys couldn't help but chuckle along with Cirilla as they both stood up and began going back to their duel. It was then that Calanthe and Crach came outside to find their group of fighters sparring amongst each other, "Ah! Nothing like seeing glorious fighting amongst our apprentices," Crach spoke vocally with his huge smile.

"I'm surprised Cerys has been tagging along with Hjalmar to spar."

"She always wanted to find ways to improve and prove herself as a fighter. Not a lot of girls her age would get down and dirty like a real Skellige warrior would."

"Runs in the family blood am I not correct?" She inquired.

"Heh, right it does," Calanthe in her own eyes saw a proud father who doesn't deny her daughter's path but embraces it fully, "Don't forget to use that big head of yours again son! And don't be afraid to use some strong shots on her Cerys!"

When Vergil and Crach swords clash with one another, Crach knew his own strength wouldn't push back Vergil; this is where he uses his head once again. No matter how durable Vergil is, he can still feel those strikes hit him hard, but he can withstand it. Vergil would use that little distance to go back into his father's stance; both feet inches apart from each other, sword by his side, both hands near the handle as if he was gonna pull it out of his sheath and waits patiently for Hjlamar to come at him. Soon as the distance between them closed, Vergil swiped Hjalmar's chest so fast that he didn't feel the effect till Vergil let go of the breath he held and turned to see his sparring partner collapse on the ground.

Vergil helped Hjalmar up, "Gah shit… How'd you do them weird move? You a witcher or something?"

Vergil shook his head, "I'm simply faster."

Hjalmar snickers as he licked his bleeding lip, "Fock off. I still put some good two cent in ya," Hjalmar pointed out the small bruises Vergil received, as he was busy wiping the sweat from his forehead.

"Same as I did," Hjalmar's nose was bleeding from the many times the wood hit his face, along with him having to spit some blood out from his mouth and a little swelling on the eye.

"Don't worry, next time it'll be me trashing you good."

"I'll be waiting," the two watched Cerys effortlessly overpowering Cirilla and again having on the ground, "Hmph. As expected"

Hjalmar took note of Vergil's reaction, "You sound not so surprised of seeing Ciri lose."

"Cirilla is always agile on her toes, but her swordsmanship needs to keep up with her speed."

"Ever try teaching her some of your tricks?"

Vergil frowned, "I don't know how to teach people what I know."

Hjalmar rolled his eyes and shrugged as he went to Cirilla's aid. Leaving Vergil to practice on his own, he still was trying to understand how to precisely hit something so fast it can penetrate their tangibility. If anything, practicing with Hjalmar was setting up a lot of things to come, but Vergil still needs practice.

Crach yelled a howl and clap for the group, "Well put! Keep this up and we'll be able to retire in a year!"

Calanthe scoffed and shook her head, "In a year, Cirilla would still be brat not wanting to find companionship in the people I set her up for marriage."

"And is that a bad thing? Maybe Young Ciri just wants to find someone she loves for herself and not for someone else."

"You do know that the art of love and its fantasy doesn't always exist," Gone was the proudness of seeing her apprentices smile and now was the poker face of a queen who saw what reality has to offer, "Just look at us as an example, well you actually, married to women's with not an ounce love but at least have their cooperation when needed. I don't expect Cirilla to find love with the people I want her to meet, but she needs connections and ties for her to be able to survive in this world as you have."

"What about her and Vergil? They seem to be getting along just fine with knowing each other for alittle over a month."

"The pleasant boy as far as I can tell has no interest in Cirilla. He tries to hide it, but he doesn't have the level of care like Cirilla does for him. Then there's the fact that he has his own journey in front of him. I don't have the highest hope he'll be around Cirilla in the future."

"Well. I don't have a say in what's in store for Ciri, just that I'm forever indebted to protect young Ciri at your command."

"And you'll keep it as so. Now if you'll excuse me, I have some business to attend to," Calanthe took her leave as Crach watched on as the young group communicated with each other in their own way. Hjalmar was busy laughing and enjoying his time with Cirilla as he gave her some pointers on using a sword the Skellige way. Crach had to let out a sigh, 'They're getting too comfortable for each other. Gotta have a talk with the two sooner than later, otherwise, Calanthe would have my head for letting them do as they please.'

Meanwhile, Cerys gravitates towards Vergil, observing his every move and being mesmerized for the pure focus of it all with his own sword he's now using, 'It's like he's preparing for war…'

It came to the point that Vergil's sword almost hit Cerys, but he had control of the motion and it only was an inch from her forehead, and she didn't flinch, "You should take better care in how you approach someone who is practicing," he spoke while drawing his sword away from her.

She rested her chin on the handle of her sword, "I know you wouldn't have hurt me. Looking at you, you had years of learning how to use your sword."

"Hm," was the only answer he gave before going back to his practice. This time he was gonna use the dummy in front of him but hit it so fast without fully drawing his sword from his sheathe.

And for that few minutes, the dummy stared at him as if it was questioning what the hell he was trying to do, 'This doesn't make sense. I know I am fast enough to cut it. Father did it so effortlessly, so fast that my eyes couldn't keep up, and I should too. But how? How do I-'

He was pulled out of his brooding thoughts by Cery's who was now hearing him and bumped her shoulder to him, "You've been sheathing and unsheathing your blade without fully striking the dummy for the past few minutes."

"You wouldn't understand what I'm trying to do."

"From the way I'm looking at it, you're trying to pull the impossible just by not using your sword to its maximum usage. The sword has to come out and be of some use, you know?" she pointed out just as she tapped his sword, "By the way, that type of sword must have a name to it right?"

"It does."

Cerys waited for a few seconds for Vergil to drop its name, but he didn't, "Ah. Guess I'm not close enough for you to tell me."

"It's not of any importance to knowing its name. It's importance," Vergil sheathes the sword out, this time using its maximum force by slashing the dummy's head, and he had time to put it back in his scabbard as the effect of dummy losing its head occur, "Comes from what can it do with the right owner."

She clapped with applause for his showcase. Vergil simply went back to study what his father was able to do with ease and steadiness, "Honestly, you can make money with your talent of doing stuff like that. Yet you seem like the type of person who wants a challenge every now and again."

"Are you providing?" his ice steel eyes look at her with interest for a good sparring. Seeing how she fought Cirilla, took note she was an inch taller than Cirilla but not tall like him and her brother, she could put up a decent challenge compared to Hjalmar.

Cerys grinned and shook her head, "Tempting, but with how you handle my brother, there's no way I'll be able to win. Maybe in the future, but I know when the battle is a loss unlike my more stubborn brother," Cerys also took that moment to watch what her brother was doing with Ciri. She found them laughing with each other as they enjoyed the company of one and another just as her brother was pointing out how Cirilia should better fight, "Awww. They're so cute together. They've gotten much closer with each other in the past month. Did you have something to do with that?" She questioned as her attention was brought back to Vergil, who unknowingly had his back turned from her.

Vergil cleared his throat, "No," he tries not to get himself distracted from his training

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

"You did have something to do with them," Cerys was grinning ear to ear, that it made Vergil feel a bit uncomfortable to see how wide she could smile.

"I have no recollection of what you're saying."

"So you're telling me that Ciri and my brother, who always tiptoe around each other's feelings, are now suddenly close together by their own merit?"

"Oh you mean Cirilla," Vergil turned his head to where the ashen girl was, "She's right over there if you want to talk to her."

Cerys laughed out loud, "I don't get what's so funny," Vergil responded, only to make her laugh even harder and causing Ciri and Hjalmar to raise their eyebrows.

Vergil's answer was a shrug and gesture to his hands that Cerys was going psycho. Which also made the two laugh even more. But it was safe to say, Vergil had a side that is an endearing one, yet he hides it a lot with him being a bit stoic. For as long as he stays here, Cerys wants to figure out who Vergil really is under all that shell he covers up.

And he was now distracted from training, which irritated him but not as much as it should.

Vergil spent that better part of the morning and afternoon training. Of course, he made sure to take breaks and eat to re-energize himself, mostly because of Cirilla's doing. He didn't really need to eat like everyone else cause he doesn't go as hungry as humans do.

Doesn't mean he'll eventually won't get hungry, but he grew stubborn to ignore when he needed to eat and recuperate himself before throwing himself back to training. Having someone to always remind him to eat every once in a while reminded him of when he had parents to make sure he eats before going back to swinging a sword.

And he hated that feeling, the feeling of belonging that he gets from Cirilla, her grandmother, and Crach's two children. It just drills him even more of how much harder it is to bury his emotions when he's surrounded by people that care about his well being, 'Can't exactly leave when I still need to learn what the queen of Cintra is teaching me,' he thought to himself as he cleanses away the sweat he brought up from training by bathing himself with soap and water, 'But…. The longer I stay around her and Cirilla, the more attached I become to them. Once we set sail to Cintra, I'll part ways with them. It does mean my training would be cut short, but better to leave then for it to become harder to leave later on.'

With that as his final judgment, he finishes cleaning himself and uses a towel to dry himself and wrap it around him. He also took his sword with him to his bedroom where this time, he'll have to wear what the queen of Cintra has for him as his usual clothing was being dried. To his disappointment, none of the clothing was something he would wear, 'Nothing at least a little darker? They're all too bright,' he questioned the choice of clothing Cirilla's grandmother had chosen for him. He had no choice but to wear a yellow silk base shirt, with brown shorts under his amber pants.

While it fit on Vergil, he felt the discomfort sit in quick, "Oooo! You are finally wearing something that looks nice on you."

In came Cirilla, smiling at Vergil's choice of clothing while also making him eyeroll, "It feels tight on me."

"That's because you have to settle into it. I bet you've been wearing those same clothes for like a year," Vergil didn't answer if he did, leaving it in the air as Cirilla went and sat on his bed, "Off going somewhere?"

Vergil nodded as he slipped on gloves that Cirilla's grandmother recommended to help grip his sword better, "Somewhere by a village is a challenge I have to conquer."

"Involving that sword of yours?"

"Yes, involving my sword of mines," he said as he put on a leather jacket.

"You wouldn't happen to be able to bring me along to see you fight right?" She asked, with a hint of eagerness, wanting to see how Vergil stack up to whatever he faces.

Vergil had a bit of room to test out how the clothing holds up with him moving; he threw a punch and kick which brought some satisfactory to the fact that Cirilla's grandmother gave him clothing he can move around freely, "Not if you don't know how to properly protect yourselves, especially from spectors you can't see."

Cirilla pouted, "And what? You can see and fight ghosts?"

"To a degree."

If it was anybody else Cirilla would laugh at their faces, but Vergil was not like everyone one just as he was short as always. Cirilla ended up sighing as she wasn't getting much on what Vergil means by that. Her eyes caught something from his open bag; an amulet that looked to have a ruby gem that was set into, "Didn't know you had a taste in jewelry."

"I don't," looking at the amulet that belonged to him, his hand passed over the amulet; feeling the gem and its material all at once, "It was a gift from my mother when I turned 12."

"It's pretty. She must have really gone out her way to make sure you treasure that," the subject of his mother was a bit touchy that Cirila knew to steer the direction away from the topic, "Does that mean you're older than me?"

"Yes, a year ahead of you."

Cirilla pout went into a frown as just realized something, "Then that means you've been by yourself for a better part of a year…. Right?"

Vergil didn't answer, but the way his eyes stared at the amulet and not at Cirillas meant that she again was reaching territories that were all the more making their conversation awkward. So again, she tries to bring life into the air that surrounds them, "Didn't really know my parents that much. Heard they died when we were sailing to Skellige. Heh. Funny that this place is in a way bad luck for me, but yet I have the most fun here compared to Cintra. There are people here I love, adore, and look up to. In Cintra, all I have is my grandmother, my clever step-grandfather who still has a knack of socking me real good, and… not much else," Cirilla looked to see Vergil was now looking at her, both a look of curiosity and understanding of where she's coming here, "Here I have the people of Skellige to always have fun with, Crach is always doing something that has my lungs hurting, Cerys is a sister I wish I had and Hjalmar… Oh, Hjalmar," she was now giggling and feeling a bit bashful with Hjalmar now in mind, "He tries hard to impress me with anything he does, but in reality, I just love how hard he tries to do everything and anything. Skellige might he always says!"

Now a bit of silence roamed Vergil's room as he closed his bag and was preparing to leave for the night, "Never imagine I would meet you of all places," Cirilla spoke again, also again stopping Vergil movement, "Let alone falling from the sky as I briefly wanted to kill myself for something stupid as blinded love. I won't question what you are, but I am glad that for the past month or so, you've been a good friend. A prick mind you, but a good one."

For the first time, Vergil didn't know how to respond. His mouth wanted to say something in return but it kept shutting and opening. In reality, his brain wasn't properly processing how he should respond back to Cirillia. Whether he cares the same for her, whether he too didn't expect things to happen like this, or even find her an annoying roommate for the past month.

He hasn't had someone openly tell him how much they mean to him in a while, even in the short time of knowing one another, "...I…"

Whatever he was going to say was interrupted by Crach knocking on the door, "Sorry for intruding on your conversation. Just wanna talk to young Ciri about some stuff."

"I was just gonna leave for the night," Vergil put his bag on his back and grabbed his sword. He looked at Cirilla, "I won't be out for too long."

"Just.. Don't get hurt, ok."

"Hm," was all Vergil answered before making his way out of the room. Leaving Crach and Cirilla to discuss something.

Some things that weren't pleasant.

Wind and snow worked like a force amongst Skellige. The trees that Vergil passed by on his horse had little to no life in them due to how cold it was. The village he remembers the spirit resides in was south of Kaer trolde, one where he had to cross a small bridge to get to. Besides the monsters and animals that lurk wherever he goes, there were also humans who were willing enough to take from others without any remorse, and always, Vergil avoids them, 'Humans can't compete with what I can do. Only their skills is something I must learn from them,' as Vergil got closer to the village, he could feel the presence of the spector, 'Let's see if it can put up a decent fight to the son of Sparda.'

Vergil stopped his horse just outside of the village, he didn't want to lose another horse to upset Cirilla's grandmother. Fewer people were out in the open with it being night as Vergil came back to this village. The only ones out were the skellige warriors watching over the village, some enjoying the stench of alcohol burning their throats or the pipe of smoke that let their worryness go away, and some kids were helping their parents out with the laundry out in the open.

Vergil can feel the spectator in the area, closer and closer as he walks through the village with his sword in hand. The skellige warriors were eyeing him suspiciously; a kid who had a sword beside him with the eye that symbolizes intentions that weren't positive was something to keep watch of.

Vergil went into a house, a house that was dark as the moonlight opened up its dark shrouded room. For how small it was, the place was a rekt; plates, glasses were all but destroyed that littered the wooden floor of the house. A man sat idly on the floor as he shivered and rocked himself back and forth, "I didn't mean to… I didn't want to…." He muttered as his tone was laced with a hint of his mind losing.

Vergil pulled out his sword, slow and steady so the demon could hear his presence that he was here for one thing, "Come out of him demon. Face an opponent that can take you on."

The man turned to him, beads of sweat traced his everybody, his green eyes widen with terror in his eyes, and most of all, the moon's light showed a shadow not of a man in complete utter terror as mumble words of regret, but of a demon consuming the guilt he feels of whatever sin he caused, "PLEASE!" the man crawled to him, grabbed his legs, "END ME! I DON'T WANNA SEE HER FACE AGAIN! IT WASN'T MY FAULT!"

This complicates things. Vergil did not want to kill this man; he isn't an executioner, his skills weren't meant to be an executioner for the humans, but how else could he get this spector out of his body? His intellect was limited in knowing how to release spirits, yet the only way to do that was to kill this man.

"Please…." the man kept groveling under Vergil, "I don't want to see her dying again.. I had no choice… It was either me or her."

"Aye!" The corner of Vergil's eyes saw a skellige warrior outside of the doorstep, "Be very careful what you do next kid," the warrior threatened, his own double axe was ready for anything the kid would do.

Vergil's ears perked at the sound of glass being picked up. The man that was once groveling for death almost stabbed Vergil's legs if he wasn't quick enough to slide out of his grasp. Vergil knew this spector wasn't gonna make the man kill himself, no, he wanted him alive to keep taking away his strength. In doing so, he was making him go completely insane like one of the villagers Vergil saw a day ago.

"SHE WON'T GO AWAY! GO AWAY!" The man ran past Vergil, still having the sharp glass in his bleeding hand. The skellige warrior would use the hill of his axe to slap the glass from his hand and pin the man to the wall.

"Calm the fock down! What's gotten into him?! What you'd done to him?!" The skellige warrior directed his question to Vergil.

"Don't interfere! You'll get yourself killed!" With Vergil distracting him, the man ended up kicking his balls, took one of his axes, and hit it in his guts.

Vergil had to act before any massacre would begin; he quickly sliced the man's hand off, pushed the skellige warrior away from him, and pierced his stomach with his sword. In doing so, the man sputters his blood on Vergil's sword as Vergil can see the man's eyes turning bleaker with his life wittering away before his eyes.

Vergil had no time to reflect on his action, the spector slip out of the man's body, standing huge among Vergil with most of its body being cover by the shadow itself, but its form was very skinny like skeleton yet it had huge claws on it hand, "The bloody hell is that?" The skellige warrior didn't know what he was seeing, and whatever it was, ended up teleporting, aiming for him.

Vergil was just as fast, knowing where it was going, he leaped over it and swiped his blade by where its neck would be. Not killing it, but making it screech in pain, 'So my blade can hurt this spector as well,' a smirk was placed on his lip as he got into his stance, 'Good,' Vergil roared forward, swiping his lower body, his legs, ducking under its heavy swings from its claws, and leaping in air slashing diagonally twice.

It still stood, still teleported to reposition itself behind Vergil, yet it was like Vergil had eyes back of his head as his sword was able to block its claws, and then he stabs its torso pushing it towards the wall.

It howls in pain from Vergil's sword, piercing through its shadow skinny form, "You creatures had never fought someone like me," he twisted its sword, causing it to screech even more, "Someone whose sword was imbued by a demon himself. Now. Time to end this," as Vergil pull out his sword to finish him off, the specetor teleported inside Vergil in its last-ditch ever to stay alive. And like days ago, he felt the guilt of letting his father die, and now the guilt of letting his mother die.

This spector knew it was doing, surviving, and pouring more guilt to the surface for Vergil to see.

"DANTE! YOU IMBECILE."

"Come on Vergil! You might swing your sword fancy, but let's see if you can handle my break dancing skills!"

"THIS ISN'T A DANCE! FIGHT ME, YOU COWARD!"

His fault

His fault

It was all his fault.

He couldn't find his brother.

He couldn't keep his mother and father's promise.

He was weak.

His fault.

Vergil was on his knees, howling at the memories blasting his brain because of this spector inside, "MOTHER! MOTHER MAKE THE PAIN STOP!" His sword was no longer in hand, his fist pounding hard enough for the wooden floor to be destroyed. It was a lot harder to release this spector in him compared to yesterday with how the memories were hitting him much harder.

The spector was pouring every bit of his energy just so it could survive and grow stronger.

This brought the attention of the warriors who all but see Vergil as some type of monster they might have to take out,"Careful! He's got a bleeding monster inside him! He might kill y'all with that sword of his!" The bleeding skellige warrior mentioned what he had seen.

The skellige warriors approach Vergil carefully. He was still screaming and agony, but oddly enough, there was some sort of build-up, a blue aura of electricity erupting around the boy.

Until they know it, Vergil releases that build-up. Blasting away the specter in him and the warriors being sent tumbling to the ground. Vergil was now in his demon form, but he was still on his own knees as he was steadily recovering from the amount of energy this creature sap from him. With that, the hymn ended up going in one of the skellige warriors as they now got back up to see Vergil in a form they never saw before.

A monster, no, a demon now stood up before them.

One of them yelled a battle cry and went to attack Vergil. Vergil seemingly moved fast in a blink of an eye to avoid the attack, picked up his sword, and slash forward so fast that everyone could only see Vergi's demon form already killed one of the warriors that had the specter in him. The specter was forced to leave its body, with the energy it took from Vergil, it was able to pounce onto the other warrior with ease.

That's when Vergil saw he had no choice, in front of him were bodies this spector can hop around on, and it had the taste of his father's blood that made it all the more faster in how it sank its teeth into these warriors. If he had to do something he didn't want to do earlier, so be it, 'I must… Eliminate all,' Vergil distance his foot from one another as he prep his sword right to the side of his waist. The warrior that had the spector inside him suddenly was crying out in his own terrifying moment as he experienced whatever sins he had committed. In a flash, Vergil cut up every single one of these warriors, it was like his sword didn't move from his hand, and instead, it did, leaving a blue hue of slashes in its wake as everyone of the warriors was caught and sliced up enough to take their life.

The specter's only option was the bleeding skellige warrior that Vergil left alive, he was crawling outside, away from the scene. And with the distance, Vergil could easily intercept, and when he did, Vergil roared, slicing its body in half and allowing it to wither away.

The battle was over. Vergil stood outside as the moon shone over his slick demon form that he couldn't hold on to forever. As it left him, he felt the exhaustion that comes from it, but unlike all those other times, he didn't allow himself to collapse on the ground but tried to steady his breath. He can feel the bloodstain that surrounded his entire body as behind him were dozens of skellige warriors that were supposed to protect this village. Only to be slain by Vergil because he got sloppy when fighting this spector, "...What are you?" the skellige warrior spoke in terror of what he had seen.

Vergil's eyes turned to the warrior that saw everything. He didn't need to answer because all of what he did, all that he had become, signified he was something far beyond a child that is human. Suddenly as he felt the adrenaline wash away from his body, his ear picked up the screams of the villagers that had seen all that he had done, and all that he was.

So he let judgment happen, sat on his knees, cleaned his sword, as more skellige warriors now came and surrounded him. People were calling out for his head, people crying for the warriors that didn't need to die, but Vergil felt none of their pain.

Even as he accepted the judgment for his crime, he felt his power increasing as he was able to accomplish a feat his father was able to do.

There's a reason why he gave himself up. Hopefully, some may catch on why, but you'll have to wait till the next chapter as things take a huge turn for Vergil. See ya whenever.