The Devil of Zero
Disclaimer: Neither The Familiar of Zero nor Devil May Cry belong to me.
The Test
– The Zero –
Hotel, Port City La Rochelle
Morning
"Foolish Sparda…you will serve me as one of my Lieutenants…whether you desire so or not!"
Louise woke much more calmly this time than with the other dreams. It was…different. Rather than seeing the memory clearly through Vergil's perspective, it had been nothing but blurred shapes and pitch-black darkness…except for that voice, and a set of three glowing red orbs in the darkness…Those orbs had made her shiver with some primal fear…something beyond any knowledge meant for mere mortals…
And then, with a start, she realized that she was alone in the room that she shared with the Viscount. And, furthermore, Vergil wasn't here to wake her. Curious, she got up and dressed, then left to go look for her fiancé and familiar.
The hotel the group (and hanger-ons) was staying in was originally a castle built to defend the region, for surrounding towns and villages to evacuate to in case of invasion. With the relative peace in the region though, it had been built around in order to serve as a port city for airships going to and from Albion, the castle itself serving as rentable quarters for nobles and their servants to stay in while waiting for ships.
In the center of this structure was a parade ground, a large circular grassy field. The main entrance of the building with the hotel rooms exited right onto the grounds. Louise, after exhausting the other potential locations, had gone out there and found Wardes and Vergil standing apart, facing each other with their respective weapons out.
"What is going on here!" Louise shrieked, both of her fiancé and familiar turning to face her.
"Ah, there is our witness!" Wardes seemed pleased. "Now the duel can begin."
"Very well." Vergil assented, Derflinger held loosely by his side. The two began circling, Wardes' spell-blade held before him, facing Vergil head on as he side-stepped, while Vergil strode in step, his head turned slightly from his path to keep Wardes in sight. Like wolves fighting for position, they circled, until finally, the first blow was swung.
– The Devil –
A Few Minutes Earlier
The challenge had been issued by Wardes, knocking on the door of Vergil and Guiche's room.
"Good morning." The Viscount had said when Vergil answered the door.
"Good morning." Vergil replied, as common courtesy called for.
"I've wanted to ask for a while, but are you the legendary familiar, the Gandalfr?" Vergil had allowed his expression to shift, not into shock but suspicion. No one should have known about that…unless Colbert had finally blurted it out. Or some girl had charmed Osmond. Or Fouquet had spilled during interrogation. Really, looking back Vergil didn't know why he had trusted that lot to keep a simple, potentially world-shattering secret. When Vergil didn't respond, Wardes continued. "Since that case with Fouquet, I've gained a…interest in you. Besides being Louise's familiar, you reportedly have some skill with a blade, and some strange magic. I asked Louise, and she told me you were a swordsman from another world."
I shall have to have a talk with that girl.
"I have an interest in military history, and looking through some ancient records, I discovered a familiar with abilities much like yours: The Gandalfr."
"You must be quite the dedicated scholar to sift through six thousand years of history to find such an obscure fact." Vergil commented.
"Yes, well, I found myself wondering how the Gandalfr who captured Fouquet would be in battle. So, would you fight me in a duel?" Vergil did not allow a wide, sharkish grin to spread across his face. Those were Dante's forte. Instead, a small smirk answered Wardes' question, and they soon found themselves on the parade ground, awaiting the arrival of Louise to serve as their witness. And when she did, the duel began.
Vergil was quick, slicing Derflinger towards Wardes fast enough to make the blade blur. It was an attack only barely within the range of natural human capabilities, imitable perhaps by some master swordsman who spent his entire life building reflexes and muscle to pull it off. Wardes, Vergil was glad to see, didn't let his astonishment of Vergil's speed last long, bringing his weapon up to block Derflinger before chanting and casting a quick spell.
From Wardes' heightened speed afterwards, Vergil judged that it was some sort of wind-based enhancement spell designed to improve his speed.
Good.
Thus far, Wardes had yet to disappoint Vergil. The Viscount managed to parry or avoid the slashes and hacks of Derflinger, and even got a few jabs in at Vergil, fruitless as those strikes were. The surprised look on Wardes face faded into a respectful grin, as he cast another spell and sent a powerful gust of wind at Vergil.
"Methinks this mortal looked down on you Young Sparda." Abaddon remarked with a hint of humor in his growl. Vergil didn't respond, bracing against Wardes' spell. The winds struck with the force of a sledgehammer, and were Vergil not braced or not half-devil, it would have forced him off of his feet. As it was, it merely pushed him an inch back before sweeping around him. Wardes was apparently shocked by this resistance, but not so that he was unprepared for Vergil's following combination attacks, expertly parrying blows from the sides and above, but losing ground while doing so. However, he made do, incanting another spell. A brief outburst of wind ruffled Vergil's coat, while Wardes ascended in a wind-empowered leap that landed him behind Vergil, before whipping about and striking with his spell-sword. Vergil simply brought Derflinger around and blocked the blade, except that it seemed this was what Wardes' wanted, as another spell sent a powerful burst of smoke into Vergil's face. Where it anyone else, this spell would incapacitate them, rendering them sightless for a short duration. On a half-devil, it merely registered as slight irritation.
Vergil didn't allow Wardes to cast again, darting forward and bringing Derflinger down in a hack that embedded Wardes' blade into the dirt, before laying the back of Derflinger against Wardes' neck. They stood like that for a moment, Wardes apparently stunned by Vergil's victory, before the Viscount let out a chuckle.
"Truly, I can understand how the Gandalfr became legendary, if the original was anything like you."
"Oh, I doubt it was."
"I admit that I had my doubts about your ability to protect my fiancé," Wardes continued, "But I now see that you truly are capable of keeping trouble away from my Louise. Now…If you'd excuse me…"Wardes massaged the wrist of his sword-hand as he walked away, back towards the hotel and leaving Louise and Vergil on the field. The two stood awkwardly…well, Louise stood awkwardly, while Vergil sheathed Derflinger and looked at her.
"What was it this time?" Louise started, and glanced at him in a confused manner before realizing what he was talking about.
"Ah…it was short this time. There was darkness, and I couldn't see anything, except for three glowing red lights –"
"Mundus."
"Huh?"
"What you saw was a Prince of Hell, Mundus."
"Wait, what? Mundus? Mundus became a Prince of Hell? That little shrimp?" Despite his curiosity at Abaddon's outburst, Vergil remained focus on Louise.
"Prince of Hell…Then…its ruler?"
"One of them."
"Huh?" Vergil almost rolled his eyes at her ignorance.
"Imagine, Louise, another floating continent like Albion, except almost completely barren and with no way off, no flying creatures to tame as mounts and no fleets of airships. Imagine that, instead of throwing their criminals in jails or executing them, the nations of Halkeginia sent all their criminals, traitors, murderers, thieves, and tax evaders, all of them, to this floating wasteland." Vergil paused to see that Louise was still listening, although he could tell that she couldn't see where this was going. "These prisoners have no guards or wardens watching them, and are left completely alone, with no interaction with the mainland except for the airships that toss more criminals onto this makeshift prison. They only have what the continent already has as food and shelter. And to claim these, they fight amongst each other, the weak dying under the fists of the strong and powerful, with criminal mages claiming the bulk of the essentials for survival. And when those supplies are exhausted, they turn to the one source of food left: Each other." Louise became visibly sick.
"In order to survive, the strong gather some of the weak as underlings and form large groups, hunting down the weakest to eat while fending off those others who wish to feed on them. A food chain is established, with the strongest, like square-class mages, at the top, each also commanding a horde of minions to do their dirty work. Small kingdoms are established by the powerful and networked, while the weak and unaffiliated struggle to survive. This Is Hell. A collection of fiefdoms ruled by the strongest Devils. Mundus was one of the strongest,"
"I'm still having trouble believing that."
"And when I was left in Hell, he enslaved me, probably as a way of getting back at my father." Vergil frowned, at more than just the mention of his servitude to Mundus. Why am I telling her all this? He wondered. Maybe Dante rubbed off on me more than I thought…
"That's it, isn't it?" Louise asked, pulling Vergil out of his contemplation. "That's the situation that I took you out of!"
"No."
"What? Really? Then what is it?"
"Perhaps you shall see in your dreams." Vergil said, turning and leaving. He could feel Louise's fuming stare follow him as he ascended the steps into the hotel. By now, the rest of their party had awoken, and all were gathered in the common room, something like an inn, for breakfast. Kirche's eyes lit up at the sight of him, while Tabitha never glanced up from her book. Guiche was talking with Wardes, and from the awed glances he snuck at Vergil, apparently talking about their duel. Vergil simply ignored them, going up the stairs to their rooms. He entered the room he shared with Guiche, closing and locking the door behind him.
"I suppose you want to hear about Mundus?"
"No." Vergil replied. "He does not matter anymore."
"Hoy, what about that Zima person?" Derflinger spoke up. "You haven't told any of the others about her."
"Zima is an obstacle only I can deal with." Vergil explained. "Louise and the rest would have trouble dealing with a single Frost. Zima is a Devil, orders of magnitude in power above a mere Demon, even elite ones like Frosts."
"I guess that's true…" Derflinger allowed. "But still, the mission is to get the letter from Wales, and get back with it. How are you going to find time to hunt down Zima and kill her?"
"I already know where she lairs, thanks to the Frost in the alley. It's a short distance away from the port where we'll land tomorrow."
"Eh, really? That seems convenient."
"It seems Zima got too greedy where she previously lived, and the whole nest had to move so that it would be easier to hunt."
"Feh, typical ice devil."
Night
The rest of the day had been spent with Vergil resting for the anticipated battles, while Abaddon and Derflinger exchanged barbs, stories, and whatever else millennia-old weapons did. Vergil had just been about to rise and go join the others in whatever they were doing, when a rumbling shook the hotel. This was a major concern, for whatever shook a former castle built by magic and designed to resist the same was not something to blow off lightly. Especially when whatever it was caused the wall to explode when it shoved its enormous, stony fist in.
Derflinger carved the appendage apart before it got anywhere near Vergil. The stone fell apart and laid still for a moment, before animating and drawing back together outside of the hotel, reforming back into a stone golem's hand. It was much the same as the first giant golem Vergil had seen, which only made sense considering the same person who rode it now presumably made it.
"Fouquet."
"Gandalfr."
Standing next to her was a cloaked, hooded man with a white mask. Presumably her benefactor who'd gotten released and/or broken out of prison.
"This will teach me to trust a judicial system." Vergil commented, body loose and ready to react. Stony spikes burst from the ground around him, but Vergil was already gone and running up the golem's chest, with Derflinger stabbed into it and cutting an enormous slash as Vergil targeted Fouquet and her partner for death.
"That won't work Gandalfr!" Fouquet crowed, the gash sealing up almost as soon as it was made, as a wall of stone blocked Vergil's advance. Vergil simply Tricked up and around the wall. His downwards slash was blocked by Fouquet's ally, a spell-sword crackling with electricity. Vergil expected the lightning magic to jolt him on contact, reasoning that it couldn't be as bad as Nevan in Dante's hand. Thus, he was pleasantly surprised when Derflinger glowed slightly, with the sword exclaiming gleefully.
"I remember now! I can absorb magic!"
"You forgot that you could absorb magic." Vergil deadpanned.
"Well hey; it's been over three hundred years since I last used that…" Derflinger trailed off as Vergil forced him down onto the masked man's spell-sword, simultaneously summoning swords to circle around him. The blades struck, only to sink into another wall of stone bursting out of the golem.
Vergil was starting to get very cross with Fouquet. It was a mistake applying Dante's merciful philosophy to her. No, she died now, with her benefactor. Another Trick teleported Vergil behind her, and Derflinger cleaved through her torso. Fouquet fell in two, dirt and rock spilling apart.
A golem. A miniature, stone golem made in Fouquet's image. Despite himself, Vergil admired the earth mage's trickery. It was a very good imitation to fool his senses. By the time he turned back, the stone shield protecting the masked swordsmage had dissolved, and the man was nowhere to be seen.
Only one thing left to deal with here.
"Derflinger."
"Yeah?"
"I wish to perform a…experiment. Be ready to absorb a lot of energy."
"Eh? What?" Vergil Tricked off of the golem as it was beginning to react, appearing in the air ten feet away and landing lightly on the ground. He held Derflinger by its blade with his left hand, hanging loosely at his side before tensing, bending his knees in a crouch and gripping its hilt with his right hand. And then he surged Infernal Energy into the weapon.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa Partner! Whatever you're doing, it tingles, and not in a good way!" Derflinger was glowing now, with the same dark purple-blue energy that had bathed Nelo Angelo's zweihander. The rust that no amount of scrubbing could rub away was dissolving of its own volition, as if every individual particle feared for its existence, revealing Derflinger's original sheen and golden hilt.
Vergil had a theory about the Sparda twins' blades, Rebellion and Yamato. He knew that those blades had been forged by Sparda with powerful amounts of sorcery and magic used in the process. Rebellion, as the theory went, was made after their father had sealed part of his soul and power within Force Edge and left the blade in Hell to serve as the key to Temen-Ni-Gru's lock in sealing Mundus and his legions, and was made with an eternal thirst for the blood of demons and devils, and served as Sparda's weapon when he hunted and killed his former comrades.
Yamato was forged at the same time, with power over the dimensional barriers between the realms so that Sparda could seal the other Hell Gates with relative ease compared to the debacle of a ritual that was Temen-Ni-Gru. This power manifested in combat as the ability to cut without direct contact.
Vergil believed that the two were Devil Arms without Devil souls, making them powerful but incomplete. He thought that, for the time that Sparda wielded them, he empowered them with his own Infernal Energy to manifest their potent abilities, until eventually they passed down to Dante and Vergil, and spent decades wielded by the brothers. The theory went that there was a sort of spiritual osmosis, with the blades gaining parts of the twins' souls in order to power themselves, while the twins themselves gained some of the blades' powers, which was how Dante was so adept at slaughtering demons despite his lackadaisical training, while Vergil eventually developed the Dark Slayer Style to help make use of the 'Tricks' Yamato's power gave him. If the theory was correct, then with Derflinger's absorption and Vergil's Infernal Energy…
Vergil slashed with Derflinger, the blade yelping as the Infernal Energy surged through it, with it. The Son of Sparda performed a diagonal cut, like he had so many times with Yamato. The golem stood for a second, almost seeming confused, although that was more likely due to its creator pausing to see any effect Vergil's attack had.
And then, the construct split apart. Not into two pieces, but into hundreds, with a dozen glowing purple-blue rents in reality itself tearing it apart before fading.
"…whoa."
"Indeed, Young Sparda is powerful, to use such an ability with a mundane weapon."
"Hey!"
Vergil ignored the two weapons, studying the after-effects of his strike with restrained glee. He couldn't use it too often, not with the chance of Derflinger suffering potentially catastrophic after-effects, but this returned ability was a great comfort to him. Now though, with the golem exterminated, he could return and check on the others. He doubted Fouquet and whoever was backing her would stop at avenging themselves on just him. A simple leap to, and up the wall returned him to the gaping hole once known as his room. Stepping through the door and down the stairs, he came across an interesting situation.
The members of his party were crouched behind the common room's bar, while apparently non-magical mercenaries armed with crossbows and the odd musket were firing at them. Apparently, Tabitha had frozen the front of the bar to prevent the more powerful musket shots from penetrating, while Wardes was using his magic to throw aside any of the crossbow bolts.
A few Summoned Swords skewered the musket-wielding mercenaries, drawing the crossbowmen's attention to Vergil, who stood nonchalantly at the bottom of the stairs.
"I shall allow six seconds for those who wish to live to flee." Vergil declared, Derflinger resting on his shoulder. All of the mercenaries shifted their aim to him.
"No one? Pity."
– The Author –
Found my copy of Devil May Cry 4 and started playing through it again. Ah, nostalgia...
I admit to having hopes for this new DmC thing. I mean, sure they turned Dante into an angsty-looking teen with a smoking habit, and changed it so that he's half angel and half demon...but who knows, maybe they'll pull it off!
...
pyromania101: No problem.
Takeshi Yamato: He's not long for the role.
Orchamus: I was talking power-wise, although I don't really think Nero was angsty…
Kojiro Kun: Thank you.
Nivek Beldo: No problem.
Lunatic Pandora1: Heh.
…that's that sickle-sword thing that the Egyptians used, right? Hmm…
EVA-Saiyajin: True.
bakapervert: You're welcome.
Silverback354: Sorry.
This is true. It's the fabled eighth circle.
DMC: Thank you.
Raditz: Tried it. Didn't enjoy it as much as slaughtering legions of humans, night elves and horde and using necromancers to raise their dead as my skeletal warriors.
drake202: I have a plan for a future Devil Arm that'll take the form of a Chinese Chain-whip.
RoyalTwinFangs: Thanks.
HolyKnight5: We'll see.
Hmm…
Magical Contract + Half-Devil, Half-Human Soul = Mind-Fuckery.
Knightmare Gundam of Ni