Chapter 12: Anger Management

Deep within the forests of Fortuna, an icy shiver raced down Vergil's spine, causing his vest collar to tighten as if it were trying to suffocate him. However, there was no time to dwell on this sensation as a frustrated outcry demanded his attention.

A few meters away, Nero paced anxiously, clearly dissatisfied, running his hands through his hair. The sight of Nero's restlessness reminded Vergil of his brother. Both men were equally impatient and loud and shared a perpetual need to be constantly in motion.

"We've only just begun, so quit making such a fuss," Vergil scolded. In the days since he had taken on the role of Nero's mentor, he had pushed the boy to his limits, employing tough love to expose his weaknesses and hoping that Nero would realize how his unchecked emotions hindered his growth. But these training sessions had only led to more outbursts of anger.

So he decided to change his approach by making the boy meditate.

Defiantly, Nero crossed his arms over his chest. "That's bullshit! How the fuck am I supposed to get stronger by just standing around?" he complained.

"It's called concentration, something you clearly lack," Vergil retorted dryly. He clicked his tongue irritably at Nero's unbearable vocabulary but refrained from lecturing him again. Pointless fights like this were not worth fighting.

"Not everything can be learned by blindly waving a sword around. Even Dante knows that" he continued, knowing his remark struck a nerve as Nero unfolded his arms. Clearly angered but quiet for once.

Believing that actions would speak louder than words, Vergil made the decision to draw his katana. As he did so, his eyes locked onto a massive boulder jutting from the ground a few meters away. Then, with deliberate and calculated movements, Vergil assumed his combat stance, his boots scraping against the ground as the man widened his stance.

Taking a deep breath, he harnessed the energy coursing through his body, feeling it crackle beneath his fingertips as he focused his power on his arm and the blade of Yamato. This would have taken merely a fraction of a second in an actual battle, but Vergil elongated the moment, stretching it out to demonstrate to the young man the immense strength that lay within pure control.

Exhaling, he tightened his grip on Yamato's hilt, maintaining an unwavering focus on the rock. Then, in a blur of lightning speed, he struck - an action too swift for even the most trained eye to discern. Time seemed to freeze momentarily as if holding its breath in anticipation. Yet, nothing appeared to happen; only the air around the boulder began to flicker, teasing with ephemeral sparks before shattering into countless fragments.

And then, with an explosive release of energy, the once imposing boulder ceased to exist, sliced into pieces by the sheer power and precision of Vergil's strike.

Nero watched the clean-cut rocks scatter to the ground. "Show-off," he muttered with a hint of envy.

Vergil straightened his posture, the remnants of crackling energy dissipating with his exhale. He felt the tension in his shoulders ease as he relaxed. After that, he approached the younger man, who instinctively reached for his sword, ready to draw it.

Paying little attention to the gesture, Vergil raised the Yamato, hesitating briefly before turning the katana in his hand and presenting the hilt to Nero.

"Take it," Vergil demanded.

The Devil Hunter suspiciously shifted his gaze between the katana and Vergil.

"Don't get too excited. I'm only letting you use it so I don't have to waste any more of my time," Vergil stated.

After a moment of doubt, Nero finally accepted the offer and grasped Yamato's hilt, pulling it out of the scabbard in one smooth movement. Keeping the sheath, Vergil crossed his arms behind his back. Letting the other man examine the blade.

"It tingles," Nero commented, testing the sword with a few swings, much to Vergil's displeasure. But for now, he decided to keep his criticism to himself, although it was difficult. Instead, he explained: "The Yamato is a conduit for its wielder. It enhances the power within one."

He waited until Nero finished using his katana as a fly swatter before continuing: "Of course, this does not apply to everyone, but since my blood runs through your veins, it can help you too."

To his surprise, Nero refrained from making a snappy comment and seemed to genuinely listen for the first time. When Vergil asked him to close his eyes, he barely raised an eyebrow and complied without reluctance.

"I want you to remember why you want to become stronger," Vergil took a step back. "What it is that drives you."

"To break your nose," Nero replied with a proud grin tugging at his lips.

Vergil fought the urge to smack the back of Nero's head but managed to restrain himself. Instead, he took hold of Nero's sword.

Wide-eyed, the young man protested, "Hey! That's mine! Stop touching my stuff!"

Nonchalantly, Vergil planted the tip of the Red Queen into the earth, crossing his wrists casually on the hilt. "Silence," he remarked with a hint of authority. "I will hold onto it until your training is complete. Now, divert your attention and focus."

Grudgingly, Nero glared at his father a moment longer, but Vergil met his gaze unperturbed. After a brief moment of silent standoff, Nero begrudgingly relented, turning away from Vergil and again closing his eyes. His shoulders remained tense, a clear sign of the inner turmoil he was experiencing.

"Remember," Vergil repeated: "Why do you seek strength? Wanting to defeat me is surely not your sole motivation."

In that moment of reflection, one word resonated deeply within Nero's mind: Protect.

His purpose, his drive, was to safeguard those dear to him. It was the reason that propelled him atop the Qliphoth, made him overcome his hunger for revenge, and it was the reason that made him ask for his father's guidance. Taking a deep breath, Nero attempted to find his center, clutching his unwavering need to shield his loved ones from harm. With each exhale, the tension in his shoulders eased, a small measure of calm settling within him.

And then, something remarkable happened. The Yamato, resting in his hands, emitted a faint, barely perceptible glow. It was unlike the crackling energy that charged the blade when Vergil wielded it, but it held its own enigmatic presence. Its radiant blue tint, reminiscent of Vergil's power, hinted at the similar demonic strength that Nero inherited.

With a satisfied grin spreading across his face, Nero opened his eyes. Determination sparked within him as he fixed his gaze upon a nearby tree. Then, without hesitation, he swung the sword through the air, unleashing a blade of pure energy…

...and missed.

"Damn it!" Nero cursed, but he refused to let his frustration hinder him this time. He quickly regained his composure and prepared for another attempt. And with the next swing, he managed to cut a barely there groove into the tree.

Under the watchful eye of his teacher, he was eager to improve and tried to implement everything Vergil threw at him. As time passed, the grooves became more pronounced, and Nero found it easier to unleash the energy within each swing. Hours passed, and the intense training session pushed Nero to his limits. Beads of sweat trickled down his forehead as he breathed heavily, pouring energy into every strike. Yet, his determination drove him to continue without taking a break, fueled by the excitement of his rapid improvement.

Suddenly, Vergil interrupted the exhausted youth, silently tossing the Red Queen back to him. Nero's reflexes were swift as he caught the sword mid-air, a sense of comfort flooding him. Having his trusty sword back in his possession, he welcomed its weight after wielding the lighter katana for so long. Then, in a synchronized motion, Nero returned the Yamato to Vergil, their exchange wordless but filled with an unspoken understanding that the training was coming to an end, whether Nero liked it or not.

"Your blade," Vergil began, his tone filled with a hint of recognition and intrigue," bears a striking resemblance to the Knights' weapons." At that moment, Vergil found himself unexpectedly drawn into memories of the woman who had persistently hindered him, her white uniform and angry stare forever imprinted in his mind.

Nero replied with disgust, avoiding Vergil's gaze: "Yeah, because I used to be one." The memories of his time with the Order still left a bitter taste in his mouth, and he carried a deep resentment for the organization that had betrayed him and everyone else.

"What a peculiar coincidence," murmured Vergil thoughtfully, immediately capturing Nero's attention.

"The fuck is that suppose to mean?" Nero asked, almost snarling at the older man.

"She also was a knight," Vergil revealed. He hadn't intended to vocalize his thoughts and already regretted it, knowing the implications it would stir.

Nero, seized by curiosity, took a step toward his father. "She?" he asked, his resurfacing anger immediately forgotten. But Vergil regarded Nero with a piercing glare, not intending to indulge him.

"Nobody," he declared curtly, his tone leaving no room for further inquiry. "Now, return home. We shall resume your training tomorrow."

"Fuck that!" Nero shouted defiantly, his voice again filled with anger and frustration. "I deserve to know!"

Vergil turned his gaze away from his sons' angry face, his expression cold and dismissive. "You deserve nothing; you earn it," he retorted sharply.

Unfazed by Vergil's response, Nero's resolve only hardened. The roar of the Red Queen's engine reverberated behind him, fueling his determination. "Then let's fight!" he declared, his voice laced with challenge.

Shaking his head, Vergil unsheathed Yamato, not to entertain the child's stubbornness but to open a portal.

"Hello, no! You are not running away now!" Nero yelled once again, irritation evident in his voice.

Vergil didn't utter a word in response, instead taking a step closer to the portal. However, Nero's desperate curses caused him to hesitate. From the corner of his eye, he caught sight of him pacing, his grip on his sword tightening.

"Nero, listen," Vergil's voice cut through the air, tinged with a hint of annoyance at his own carelessness, making the youth stop in his tracks. "My past is not something I will explain. Not now, and certainly not ever. So save your questions."

Nero's anger momentarily subsided, giving way to a swirling mix of confusion and disappointment. However, before he could utter a response, Vergil's tone softened ever so slightly. "You did well today."

The acknowledgment lingered as Vergil stepped into the portal, disappearing from sight. Nero left standing there, felt a whirlwind of emotions within him. Deep down, he knew he already held the answer to the haunting question that plagued him. He knew who that woman was, the one Vergil had unintentionally mentioned. It should have brought him a sense of relief, knowing that the childhood rumors were false, that the woman who gave him life was not a prostitute but a knight, a warrior. However, despite that knowledge, Nero still needed to hear it directly from Vergil to have the confirmation make it all feel real.

As the portal closed behind Vergil, Nero found himself alone in the fading sunlight. The weight of unanswered questions bore down heavily on his shoulders, a burden he couldn't shake off. The truth was within his grasp, yet it remained unanswered, leaving him in a state of lingering uncertainty.

With his arms casually crossed behind his head, Dante strolled along the bustling main street. The sun cast its radiant glow, and the townsfolk went about their activities with joy, seemingly ignoring the existence of the abductions that headlined every newspaper. But who could blame them? It was a picture-perfect day, and Dante toyed with the idea of making a detour to the ice cream parlor across the street.

On other days, that would have been a tempting option, but the sharp glances he felt piercing his back reminded him that he had a task at hand, a job that needed to be completed. "You know, if you keep wearing that grumpy face all the time, it'll stick, Verge." Dante jested, slowing his pace until he matched his brother's stride. "Besides, you're scaring away all the ladies."

Vergil clicked his tongue in annoyance, a sound Dante heard more frequently and that never failed to amuse him.

"Why the sour mood? Weren't you eager to join me?"

Finally, he got a reaction from Vergil, who immediately jabbed him on the shoulder. "What? I'm only here because you blackmailed me, and you know it, you daft fool!"

Dante couldn't help but laugh. Teasing his stoic brother and bringing some life to Vergil's otherwise monotonous face was still one of his favorite pastimes.

When Vergil teleported into the office last night, his brooding seemed to have reached new heights.

Sensing the potential danger of his brother's frustration escalating, particularly after stumbling upon the incessantly chattering Twin-swords, Agni and Rudra, in his quarters, Dante braced himself for an explosive reaction.

And true to expectations, Vergil responded by forcefully slamming the swords back into the wall, their blades sinking into crumbling plaster. Before Vergil could retread to his room Dante swiftly presented him with two options: either join him on a demon-hunting mission or stay behind to manage the store, including handling phone calls.

"So... how's my nephew doing?" Dante inquired genuinely, realizing that he hadn't seen Nero in days.

"He's alive," came Vergil's curt response. The seriousness in Vergil's voice made Dante chuckle.

Their path led the two men to a grand square, where an old church stood proudly at its center. Dante dramatically outstretched his arms and turned towards his companion. "Ta-da!"

Vergil merely raised an eyebrow. "Are you finally planning on marrying your inflated ego?"

"Not a bad idea. But I actually have a confessional reserved for you," Dante countered, "I even paid extra for overtime."

After their lighthearted exchange, Dante's expression turned serious. "People are disappearing left and right, and everything about this screams demon. However, this elusive troublemaker is playing hide and seek, and he is good at it."

"And so you want me to track it down," his brother accurately deduced, prompting Dante to nod. "But why did you drag me here," Vergil gestured towards the church.

Dante shrugged: "Well, our holy client is praying inside."

Vergil seemed far from thrilled about this information, but he still started moving and ascended the steps. Dante followed suit, pushing open the heavy door, which emitted a creaking sound, granting them entrance into the small chapel. The musty scent of aged wood and incense filled the air. Vergil wrinkled his nose in distaste but remained composed, crossing his arms over his chest.

They had little time to explore their surroundings before an elderly man approached them. The priest's robe hung loosely on his gaunt frame.

Without uttering a word, he guided the men into a secluded back room, away from the few individuals seated on the benches, immersed in prayer.

"Oh Lord, you've finally arrived," the old priest croaked, his voice wavering with relief. "Every day, more members of our small community go missing.", he carried on, massaging his bony hands in distress.

"Take it easy, Grandpa. We don't want you having a heart attack.", chimed Dante and made the old man sit on an old wooden chair.

"Speak for yourself," Vergil commented, keeping in the background and leaning against an old wooden cabinet with Yamato in hand. Observing the situation.

The priest shared his limited information with a sense of desperation, explaining that the victims from his church were all refugees who had sought solace there after the Fortuna disaster. These individuals had left their troubled past with the Order behind them, seeking a new beginning. With this information, they could narrow down the area of the abductions to this very district. It was a small step forward but didn't provide significant progress for Dante's investigation.

Under the open sky, Dante still detected the lingering scent of incense in his nose. "That was a complete waste of time," he grumbled, sniffing his sleeve and recoiling in disgust. It would take ages to rid his coat of that unpleasant smell. Vergil walked silently beside him, deep in thought.

Once they reached the foot of the stairs, Vergil stopped and turned to his brother. "The Order conducted experiments on their residents back then," he stated, his voice carrying a tinge of solemnity. Dante's brows furrowed in confusion, prompting Vergil to relent and offer an explanation. "I paid the city a visit because it piqued my interest."

"Well, it seems like the city wasn't the only thing that piqued your interest," Dante's playful grin surfaced as he teased, only to find himself staring down the sharp edge of Yamato, its blade hovering perilously close to his nose.

"Hey, you don't honestly expect me to ignore such a setup, do you?" defended the Devil Hunter, swiftly ducking under the katana and returning to the topic at hand: "Over the years, those experiments took on a whole different scale. They transformed humans into demons."

"I know."

"Wait. What?" Dante overtook Vergil, forcing him to stop in his tracks. "Are you saying they could already create demons back then?"

"More or less. They were unstable and couldn't be controlled. As a result, most of them died or went insane. Pathetic replicas," Vergil's voice dripped with disdain. "They weren't worth my time."

Dante was lost for words. If Vergil had taken action to eradicate the Order back then, the catastrophic events six years ago might have been prevented. This realization hung heavy in the air as Dante pondered the effects of the Order's experiments.

A blood-curdling scream reverberated through the buildings, jolting Dante out of his reverie. Reacting swiftly, he sprang into action, racing towards the source of the desperate cries. In the periphery of his vision, he caught a glimpse of Vergil's white hair and felt a surge of unfamiliar relief, knowing his brother was right beside him.

His shoulder collided with the unforgiving wall as he skittered into a dilapidated alley without slowing down. Undeterred, he pressed on, skillfully weaving past discarded trash cans until he abruptly came to a halt at a dead-end.

The surrounding buildings, adorned with weathered brickwork, enclosed the eerily quiet alley. It was devoid of any trace of the desperate screams that had pierced the air just moments ago. No blood stained the cracked pavement, nothing. The alley was deserted, silent.

Only a few startled rats scurried around, seeking safety.

Frustration boiling within him, Dante vented his anger by forcefully kicking one of the trash cans, startling the already skittish vermin into a frenzy. "What the hell is going on here?!"

Vergil pushed past Dante and gestured harshly for him to be quiet. Teeth clenched, Dante complied, the echoes of the dreadful screams still reverberating in his ears.

With Yamato ready in hand, Vergil ventured deeper into the dead-end. While Dante, as requested, stayed in the background, observing the scene more closely.

Forcing himself to remain calm.

Amidst the pungent stench of filth, Dante detected a putrid whiff of sulfur, a telltale sign that a demon had been present at this location just moments ago. He could sense that something was strange about this place. Something abnormal was lurking in the air.

"Dante!" Vergil's urgent call snapped him back to attention, and he hastened to join his brother's side. Vergil pointed towards a seemingly empty space.

At first glance, nothing was visible, but as Dante squinted and looked closer, he could see the air shifting, wavering.

"A portal?" he thought aloud, reaching out to touch it, but his fingers grasped empty space.

"Most likely," Vergil answered from behind him, and the familiar sound of Yamato being unsheathed made Dante step aside.

With a swift strike, Vergil cleaved through the air, revealing an actual portal. However, it was different from the ones Vergil created with his katana. It was irregular in shape, and its form was unstable, with flickering edges that seemed on the verge of collapse.

Dante summoned his blade, nonchalantly resting it on his shoulder, his readiness mirrored by his brother's stance. Then, side by side, they stepped forward, crossing the portal's threshold.

On the other side, an indescribable stench assaulted their senses, permeating the air with a sickly sweet odor of death and decay. Dante's instinct kicked in, prompting him to bury his nose in his elbow and shield himself from the scent. Even Vergil couldn't help but cough, momentarily overwhelmed by the repugnant smell.

But the smell was nothing compared to the horrific sight that awaited them as their eyes adjusted to the darkness.

Corpses.

It was a haunting scene of death and despair. More than a dozen lifeless bodies lay before them, callously piled together like discarded refuse. The sight struck Dante like a blow, his heart sinking into his stomach as a surge of overwhelming guilt and regret coursed through him.

"Shit!" Dante's voice reverberated through the eerie silence, the anguish evident in his words. He clenched his fists tightly, his knuckles turning white as he struggled to contain the rising fury. Their death weighed heavily on his shoulders, reminding him of his hesitation and failure to act in time.

An intense heat welled up within him, and he could feel the demonic power inside him stirring awake, waiting for Dante to lose control.

"Calm yourself," he heard Vergil's steady voice cutting through the turmoil, accompanied by the reassuring weight of his brother's hand firmly planted on his shoulder. It served as an anchor, grounding him in the present moment.

"No blood and no wounds," the older sibling murmured, voice colder than usual, his analytical mind already searching for answers. The frustration in Dante simmered beneath the surface, controlled but far from extinguished. "Then what the hell killed these people?" Dante demanded, his voice filled with urgency.

Reluctantly, he forced himself to face the tragic reality once more. He turned his gaze back to the lifeless bodies. Men and women of diverse ages lay before him, their features etched with the remnants of pain and fear. As his eyes wandered, he noticed the grimy, filth-lined walls and heard the distant echoes of rushing water; it didn't take long for him to realize that the portal had spat them out underground, straight into the depths of the sewer system.

Suddenly, Vergil's voice shattered the silence, again interrupting Dante's train of thought.

"We have company."

Dante instinctively took a step back from the macabre sight of the corpses. He returned to Vergil's side, who had already drawn his sword, his eyes fixed on the abomination that floated before them.

The demon's form was grotesque, shrouded in a cloak of swirling black smoke. It boasted two pairs of bony arms and a stunted set of legs protruding from its misshapen body. Its presence exuded malice, accompanied by a shrill, piercing laughter that echoed through the air, reminiscent of nails scraping against chalkboard. Only a glimpse of sharp mandibles flashed from beneath the smoky veil.

"Intruders!" it howled, its jagged mandibles snapping together with a menacing click. "Disappear! This is Vassago's place!"

Dante immediately recognized the demon hovering before them, unleashing a torrent of foul insults. This grotesque being belonged to the trio they had overheard in Hell. Vergil, too, appeared to recollect the encounter, taking a step forward and leveling his sword at the demon.

"What brings you to this place, you wretched creature?" Vergil's voice dripped with contempt as he confronted the demon. "What is the meaning behind this spectacle?"

The demon sneered, flexing its distorted mandibles, "We've taken their blood, delicious blood. Important blood," the demon hissed, rubbing his hands like a monstrous fly, relishing in its taunting words.

"And what do you plan to do with all that blood, you carrion fly?" Dante demanded. Now that there was an enemy to focus on, his anger and frustration were gone. Instead, he casually strolled a few steps toward the demon, which continued to cackle hysterically.

"Vassago won't tell," it proudly screeched.

"Well, then, I suppose I'll have to carve the answer out of you," Dante declared, his voice laced with determination.

The brothers lunged toward the demon in unison, their swords poised to strike. They unleashed a flurry of deadly attacks, aiming to cleave through the bloated creature's defenses. However, the monster's agility surpassed their expectations, effortlessly evading their blades with twisted contortions. A mischievous giggle escaped its grotesque form as it soared higher, barely skimming the damp ceiling of the narrow sewer.

Undeterred, the twins pressed forward, paying no heed to the mucky water staining their boots or the putrid stench that grew stronger with each step, pervading the sewer.

Vergil swiftly summoned one of his spectral daggers, hurling it at the fleeing demon with pinpoint accuracy. The monster, which called itself "Vassago," let out a shrill scream as the dagger pierced its flesh, briefly losing control before regaining its balance and continuing its escape. Dark blood oozed from the wound, leaving a trail in its wake.

As the drops of blood splattered onto the ground, a luminous purple glow emanated, giving birth to swirling magical rifts. In a split second, a massive, hairy arm burst forth from one of the rifts, thrashing wildly and colliding with the sewer walls.

Dante narrowly evaded the assault, but the sudden impact caused him to collide with Vergil, who swiftly retaliated with a shove.

"Save your embraces for later," Vergil grumbled, deftly ducking under a subsequent swing of the arm that could have claimed his head. With calculated precision, he drove his katana into the massive palm of the gorilla-like appendage, further fueling its rage.

Dante couldn't help but chuckle grimly. "Trust me, hugging you is the last thing on my mind."

Undeterred by the menacing arm, the brothers persisted in their relentless pursuit, skillfully evading the desperate grasps of the meaty fingers that followed them through the swirling magical cracks painted by Vassago's blood. The sewer walls quaked with every attack of their opponent, splattering murky water in all directions, drenching the siblings.

The chase seemed interminable, but fortune finally favored their side as the blood ceased flowing and the rifts vanished, taking the gigantic arm with them and simplifying their pursuit of the demon.

Vassago abruptly halted its flight, fluttering furiously in place. It had reached a dead end. The demon was trapped.

Seizing the opportunity, Dante sprang forward, propelled by determination, ready to silence the slippery demon.

But Vergil intercepted Dante's impulsive stride, blocking his path with Yamato and halting his brother's advance. Dante's expression contorted with frustration as he questioned his brother's intentions.

"What are you doing?" Dante complained, his impatience evident in his voice.

Vergil met Dante's gaze, returning Yamato to its rightful place at his side. "As always, you act without thinking," Vergil replied calmly. "But don't you want to understand what's truly happening here?"

Reluctantly, Dante conceded, realizing that his brother was right. They needed to discover why this twitching excuse of a demon abducted and drained all those people. He shouldered his heavy broadsword, looking up at the monster, which listened attentively at the siblings' exchange.

"You've got our attention now, shithead. ", Dante declared. "So you better explain yourself before I change my mind. "

Vassago, his fly-like hands frantically rubbing together, let out a screech in response, "No! Vassago won't tell! "

Sensing Dante's impatience, Vergil took a step forward, "If you don't want my hotheaded brother to end you, I would advise you to reveal your plan, if a lesser creature like you even has one."

The demon fell silent, its mandibles clicking nervously, contemplating its options.

Finally, it spoke, its voice filled with a sinister tone. "Not my plan. But part of the plan. Vassago is a demon who finds. It found the Gate!"

Dante and Vergil exchanged a fleeting glance at this revelation.

Vassago let out a twisted giggle, its demeanor growing more agitated. "Without the sword and a king, the veil is weak," it taunted, its shadowy cloak writhing in the dim light of the sewer. "We were here first! This is our world! The humans are intruders!" The demon's voice grew shrill with anger and fury. "So we took their blood, the blood of the tainted! With this, we will return! We will make the world ours again!"

All four of Vassago's hands abruptly pointed directly at Vergil, an accusatory gesture accompanied by a screech. "You!" it cried out, fixating its gaze on Vergil. "You feel the same! I can sense it; see it!"

The demon's directly addressing his unpredictable twin sent shivers down Dante's spine, a warning of impending danger.

And the fact that his brother attentively listened to the demon's ramblings only made it worse. Dante recognized the familiar look on Vergil's face, the contemplation of possibilities. He knew all too well that his brother was being tempted by the demon's words and promises.

Dante knew he had to take action before it was too late.

He couldn't let his brother be swayed by the demon's words and fall down his dark path again.

Determined to prevent further chaos, he deftly maneuvered past Vergil and launched a swift and precise attack on the unsuspecting demon.

Vassago's shrill scream filled the air as Dante's mighty blade cleaved through one of its arms, severing it with a clean cut.

The demon's panicked reaction was immediate—it opened a misshapen portal behind itself and fled, disappearing into the depths.

"You impulsive fool!" Vergil's voice was displeased, his eyes fixed on the retreating demon. He instinctively moved to continue the chase, to dive after it, but Dante raised his sword, forcefully halting Vergil in his tracks.

"Can I trust you?" Dante's question hung in the air, filled with concern and determination.

Confusion flickered across Vergil's face as he stared at his brother. "What do you mean?"

Dante lowered his blade, his gaze unwavering. "I know that look, dear brother. It's the face you make when you're about to do something stupid. So, I'll ask again: Can I trust you?"

Vergil's gaze shifted uneasily between the fading remnants of the demonic portal and the weight of Dante's words. A moment of unspoken rivalry passed between them, a silent reminder of their shared history. Finally, Vergil relented, his voice laced with the subtle hint of a threat. "We shall see."

Dante scrutinized his brother's face as if trying to decipher his thoughts. Finally, letting out a sigh, the younger brother reluctantly hefted the heavy blade onto his shoulder. "I guess we will.", he stated, unable to hide the disappointment in his voice.

But he didn't allow the moment to linger any longer, his mind swiftly shifting back to the task at hand.

A flicker of a smile tugged at the corners of Dante's lips: "Next stop: Sightseeing in Fortuna?" He teased, lightening the tension that had filled the air between the mismatched twins.

"It appears so," Vergil replied, Yamato already in hand, ready to open a way for them into the city.

Dante's admiring whistle echoed through the channel as the new portal cast a mesmerizing blue glow. He strolled nonchalantly towards it, his eyes gleaming with mischief. Unable to resist a jab at his brother, he glanced over his shoulder. "Well, that was quick. Are you that eager to see your little boy again?"

"Stop talking." Vergil's patience wore thin as he growled, his voice laced with annoyance, and in one swift motion, he unleashed a firm kick to Dante's back, propelling him forcefully into the void.

The portal swallowed Dante, his laughter fading into the distance as he disappeared from view. Vergil stood there momentarily, the echoes of their banter lingering in the air. He couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle.

Every time Dante traversed through his brother's magical gateways, an icy chill gnawed at his bones. But as soon as his brain registered the coldness, it was already gone; he hadn't even experienced goosebumps. Though Dante stumbled out of the portal ungracefully, landing on some cliff somewhere near the outskirts of Fortuna, Vergil emerged effortlessly right behind him.

"Next time, we'll definitely use the Cavaliere," Dante wheezed, still nursing the spot where Vergil's boot had connected with his back.

But his twin ignored him, his attention fixed upon the horizon. Dante joined him, and together they observed as dark clouds gathered over the sea, casting a foreboding shadow. The once calm waters churned and roared, waves rising like a ferocious beast awakening from slumber. The air grew heavy with anticipation as if nature itself braced for the impending storm.

"That's where Caerula Harbor is!" Dante yelled over the howling wind that tugged at their coats. Vergil glanced at him, nodding in acknowledgment, but his gaze quickly fixated on something else.

A massive boulder emerged from the sea, soaring overhead towards the harbor.

Dante spotted it too. "What the hell..." he murmured in disbelief as he recognized the markings on the flying rock. "That's a piece of the Hell Gate, but how is this possible? I destroyed it!"

"Not entirely. The humans submerged the remnants in the sea," Vergil explained, earning a quizzical look from his brother. "Nero's girl informed me," he added, addressing the unspoken question.

Dante grinned and opened his mouth to deliver a biting remark, but the screeching sound of tires abruptly silenced him, redirecting his attention down the cliff.

Down the treacherous terrain of the gorge, a massive RV careened, relentlessly pursued by demons. Dante's gaze locked onto the imposing vehicle, gradually succumbing to the overwhelming onslaught.

"Speaking of women," he playfully quipped at his brother, "I suppose we should lend them a hand unless you want your son to kill us."

The man grumbled in response, feigning disinterest.

Without a moment's hesitation, Dante dramatically leaped off the cliff, his beloved pistols firmly gripped in his hands.

Vergil simply rolled his eyes at his brother's antics, unfazed by Dante's enthusiastic cheers resonating from below, mixed with the sound of gunshots and dying demons.


I had to end the chapter somewhat abruptly because it got much longer than I had originally planned. Now that I'm still working on expanding my English vocabulary, this was good practice. Even if it is a bit wordy in some sentences.

Oh, and I love my little misshapen fly demon Vassago :)

I hope you enjoyed it because, it wasn't easy for me to write it.

See you around!

-J.

P.S.: We're getting closer and closer to the finish line. Yay!