Siofra River – Below the Well – Nighttime

A large deer-like spirit gave way to another bounteous hunt, though the encounter felt more like a warmup to the restless wanderer. Guidance of grace be damned, Vergil was after one thing and one thing alone, his singular drive compelling him to seek stronger and stronger foes. Days passed, then weeks without ceremony or fanfare. Either he would conquer another powerful foe, or he would perish at the hands of a worthy opponent. It was all he had left.

That said, not every creature was up to the challenge, and the half-devil had to play to his current body's limitations, but he could not deny the rush he would sometimes get from his countless battles. It was as if he was a predator stalking his prey, a fire consuming its kindling, a rush of wind signaling an approaching storm. Sitting by another site of grace, Vergil summoned his companion and held out a hand so she could bolster his abilities. The strength of runes served him well by improving his attributes as he wished, although he was still far from what he would consider acceptable. With every rune Melina grafted to his damaged soul, Vergil could feel himself getting stronger, becoming more aware, and growing ever dexterous where once his body refused to listen.

Casting spells was starting to become second nature, although he could still never fully rid himself of the shocks that would assail him if he tried to extend himself too far. As he became more familiar with the ways of sorcery taught to him by Sellen, he wondered if Mundus' corruption, still festering within him, would ever heal. Useful as the runes were, the power they granted felt more akin to a splint that was keeping him together rather than a lasting solution. Scars always faded and wounds healed over, but the sickness that afflicted his soul manifested in ways he could never predict. All those years spent trying to fight for an inch of cognition, only to be reminded time and again of his failure and everything he had lost…

Unlike his mastery over demonic magics that were honed over time, speed was something that always came naturally to the half-demon. Strength could be regained, and skills could be relearned—both simply took time, dedication, and discipline. His supernatural speed, however, was his by birthright. It was not something he could simply restore through training.

Had Mundus stolen that too from him, when he was encased in that moving prison called an armour? That metallic parasite that sapped him of his energy, forced him into submission? He clenched his left hand, a familiar phantom pain overtaking it once again.

The fallen devil attempted to shake away the thoughts that ailed him to little effect. He learned early on that nowhere was ever truly safe. No matter where he wandered, demons always lurked at every turn, waiting for the right opportunity. Vergil was fortunate to have the Yamato with him in the earliest days of being hunted by Mundus' minions, as he was able to siphon its power until he became mighty enough not to use it as a crutch. Now, he was little more than a husk; he had no doubt that in his current state, he would surely be bested by the same child who saw his family destroyed before his very eyes. His trance was broken by the maiden clearing her throat, as the rune-infusing ritual had already ended. Conversation was not normally something the half-demon wished to engage in with his companion, but anything was better than being left to the prison of his own thoughts. He looks up at her and pulls his hand away. He struggles to speak, as though the very thought of doing so causes him immense pain.

"What do you hope to gain by journeying with me?"

The maiden is shocked by her companion's uncharacteristic change in demeanour.

"Me? I'm searching. For my purpose, given to me by my mother inside the Erdtree, long ago." She pauses in deep thought. "For the reason that I yet live, burned and bodiless."

Having traveled with Vergil for some time, Melina had gained some insight into her companion. He was cold, aloof, often abrasive, and enjoyed nothing more than to be left to his own devices. Still, he seemed to be lost in thought more and more frequently in between his hunts…as though he was waking up from a frenzy back into brief flashes of sanity. He stares through her in contemplative thought and nods. She sees him observing the burn scars that run along her hands, barely concealed by her leather manchettes.

"How did you come across such injuries?"

"I'm afraid I do not remember."

He raises an eyebrow, not even attempting to hide the doubt that lined his features. Whether he accepts her word as truth or simply does not care, he withholds his judgment all the same.

"…I see…"

The silence persists for a few moments, making Melina question whether she should leave or sit with the awkwardness. She clenches her hands on her skirt and chooses the latter.

"There is something for which I must apologise. I've acted the Finger Maiden, yet can offer no guidance. I am no maiden. My purpose…" She finds herself staring into the distance herself. "…was long ago lost."

"You have played your role exactly as I have wished. Like I said, I am a stranger to these lands, and would…" He nearly spits out the next word. "…appreciate…" It sounds unnatural coming from him. "if you would continue to inform me of the creatures I encounter." Wishing to move away from the topic, the warrior instead draws attention to the ornate dagger concealed behind the maiden's cloak.

"How did you come across such a weapon?"

She takes it out of its leathery sheath; the light of grace reflects upon the blade's curved surface. It thrummed with a golden aura yet to be unleashed by its wielder. Vergil did not need to see it to sense the power that pulsed within.

"It was given to me by my mother…long ago. For reasons that now elude me."

"I see…You don't remember much about yourself, do you?"

"I am afraid there is little I can offer you about myself. That is why I have chosen to travel across these lands…in search of answers…and a way to determine that which is now lost to me."

"Why did you choose to accompany me? Surely, with your abilities, you could simply appear at your destination."

"It is not that simple, else I would have done so already. In my current state, my corporeal self can only appear near sites of grace, for they contain fragments of the Erdtree's favour. However, I can only do so once the sites have been restored. Up until I came across you, I was bound to Torrent by way of an enchantment…and both of us had been wandering for quite some time. So, you see, when Torrent chose you…I had little choice in the matter."

"That…sounds inconvenient."

"Yes. Indeed it is. I can only hope we make it to the Erdtree soon…" She drifts, to the mild vexation of her companion as he instantly catches her meaning.

The maiden hadn't expected it, but the conversation felt rather refreshing. Still, as she held out her dagger, the Blade of Calling as it had been dubbed, she could not help but recall the words given to her when she was first entrusted with it. The maiden raises her head and closes her eye as if to recite a prayer.

"The one who walks alongside flame, shall one day meet the road of Destined Death."

The half-demon pauses to reflect on the maiden's words. He chooses his words carefully, quoting the man whose wisdom and insight had comforted and guided him throughout all his journeys.

"The ruins of time build mansions in eternity."

Now it was the maiden's turn to reflect.

"…I never took you for a poet."

"I am not. I was merely quoting William Blake."

"I am not familiar with this person. Could you enlighten me?"

Vergil caught himself smirking. For a moment, he had completely forgotten about where he was, and how likely no one in these lands had ever heard of the author. Just as he had never heard of whoever Melina was quoting moments before.

"He was a master wordsmith from where I come from. I grew up reading his works and his words have always guided me in unexpected ways. It would not be an exaggeration to say that in some ways, I owe him my life."

"I am glad to have been acquainted with his works. Perhaps you can one day share them with me."

"That would be a welcome distraction."

Sensing that the mood had lightened somewhat, Melina repositioned herself to a more comfortable position. It had been a while since she had been allowed to simply be in the presence of another. She had her doubts that her companion would be anything but reticent, though now she was starting to finally understand Torrent's decision.

"We have been travelling together for some time, but I don't think I have ever heard mention of your name."

A prolonged silence loomed over the travelers, making the maiden question if perhaps she had crossed a line.

"Vergil."

A strange name for a strange man.

"Hello, Vergil. Pleased to meet you." She extends a hand. He meekly returns the gesture and wordlessly nods. The maiden understands that this is likely the most she would get out of him at this time and relaxes her posture.

She lets out a sigh of relief, and the two sit in a more comfortable silence under the Eternal City's night sky.


Caelid – Deep Siofra Well – Daytime

The runes lining the surface of the magical lift sparked alight, humming with the invisible pull that held it aloft. Vergil took the time to adjust his attire, having ripped off any trace of armour partly out of disgust, and partly because he needed more mobility in his skirmishes. He never intended on getting hit, and if he did out of a misstep, his demonic healing sealed his injuries well enough. The flasks he held in his pouch served as a backup if he should grow tired. He clutched onto the katana firmly secured on his belt as he adjusted his gloves. It was a mundane weapon, needed copious amounts of maintenance, and had a myriad of limitations he never had to worry about in the past, but it provided a much-needed sense of familiarity in combat. He could not slice through armour the same way, lest he dull or shatter the blade, but he was able to rend through flesh all the same. Different oils looted from enemy camps and an occasional infusion of magical energy ensured its longevity, but he needed some way to better reinforce it for prolonged use. For all his preparations, however, Vergil could not possibly foresee what would happen once the lift reached its destination. The blue devil took quick notice of the change.

Something's not right.

In a fleeting instant, the warrior felt his lungs setting themselves ablaze. It was as if a rot had taken hold, afflicting him almost as fast as he could heal from it. He took a moment to collect himself before taking a step forward, noticing the new and different surroundings. The sky was a chaotic deep red and filled with a thick moving blanket of smog; a sharp contrast from the peaceful night sky that covered the underground city. Two separate pathways lay ahead. One led to a wider field with a gigantic bear-like beast prowling about, while another was lined with strange, worm-like spheres that idly undulated in place; a single glowing purple eye sat atop the highest sphere. Needing to push his way forward, Vergil summoned Torrent and rode through the ravine, noticing that some of the spheres lining the ground had begun to light up and blink in rapid succession. Eyes wide in realization, Vergil gripped Torrent's reins and asked him to go faster as he steered the way around the winding path. A series of explosions caused jets of debris to fan out in all directions, pelting both steed and rider as they pressed on. Torrent huffed in displeasure but continued to run…a fact that his rider took care to notice as the passageway opened to a larger field. He poured some of the contents from the red flask onto his free hand, allowing Torrent to drink from it and heal his wounds. The steed neighed in gratitude, but the moment was cut short when a magically charged great arrow flew towards them. The arrow narrowly missed as Torrent managed to weave around it and took a few steps forward before he felt a familiar weight shifting on his stirrup. Immediately understanding its meaning, the steed rushed forward still, the arrows continuing to miss their mark before he flung his rider forward, dissipating as he did so. The swordsman unleashed a mighty slash that shattered the golem's ankle and knocked it off balance. It hit the ground in a weighty thud, sending tremors that alerted its companion that had been waiting for just a few hundred metres behind it. The golem archer knocked the strings of its magic great bow and loosed another arrow, which tore a hole in an adjacent wall.

The second archer had chosen a poor vantage point, but the swordsman was not about to stand still while it repositioned itself. Taking out the staff he had strapped to his waist, Vergil cast a spell on his katana, reinforcing it and increasing its striking power. He thrust the magic-imbued sword into the chest piece of the stunned golem beside him and ripped it out with a wide slash, sending forth jets of molten stone like the other golems he had encountered in the past. To add insult to injury, the golem's companion fired another arrow, which the swordsman anticipated as he easily sidestepped it and caught it mid-flight. The arrow, easily three times the swordsman's height, served as a useful javelin that the blue devil then redirected into the golem's fallen companion, ending its plight. Vergil called upon Torrent once more, who allowed him to close the gap between himself and the remaining archer. As they approached, they used the surrounding rocks as cover, making it much easier to dodge the trajectory of the glowing great arrows. Once the pair was close enough, the result of the battle became much the same as the last, although the second golem was much more eager to literally stamp out its disapproval.

Vergil slashed at its legs repeatedly, but his opponent refused to relent. Thus, the rider hopped up on Torrent's back and leaped, plunging his sword directly onto the golem's stomach, violently ripping it out as he drove his blade deeper then swung his sword sideways out of the creature's core. It fell to its side, causing another tremor before it was rendered inert by a series of follow-up slashes to its torso. Re-sheathing his sword, Vergil looked around and surveyed his surroundings. The options for further traversal were limited by a sheer drop on both the westerly and easterly directions, both leading towards the raging seas below. To the north was the all-encompassing Erdtree, which seemed to reach far above the heavens while off to its side was a much smaller, yet still inhumanly gigantic golden tree. The path ahead seemed to only lead to a large colosseum, with a gigantic jar simply waiting, its long, stony arms folded. Without saying a word, it summoned three contenders, each more challenging than the last, but ultimately no match for the demon's swordsmanship. A satisfying clink could be heard as the swordsman sheathed his blade once more, signaling the fall of his latest opponent. The Great Jar continued to sit in silent judgment until it uncrossed its arm and presented a talisman that seemed to greatly lighten the warrior's burden. Vergil gave it one final look after realizing that it was no threat and summoned Torrent to make his way back.

The second route proved to be much more troublesome than the swordsman would have liked to admit. Prowling around the territory was a beast greatly resembling a bear, adorned in runic markings and a roar that shook the very ground it trod upon. It ran towards both steed and rider upon spotting them and proceeded to tackle the pair with such speed that Torrent was immediately cast aside while Vergil reeled from the impact of being unceremoniously flung into a stone wall. The creature proved unexpectedly agile for its great size, and attacked with such fury and ferocity, that Vergil was convinced it was this world's version of a demon. Not even the dragon that he had felled on his first few days attacked with such relentless tenacity. With no signs of his foe tiring or slowing down, Vergil stood his ground and expertly deflected the creature's razor claws, which themselves shredded through all manner of stone and bark without effort. With every blow, he could feel his blade starting to chip, its construction solid, but ultimately man-made in the end. He'd managed to land a few decisive hits on the creature, but these seemed to only fuel its anger as it continued to fling its entire body without regard for its safety. As it continued to hurl itself, the half-demon was able to quickly formulate a plan and stood with his back towards a short cliff's edge. Dodging another claw swipe, Vergil slashed at the ridge between the beast's eyes and snout, causing it to charge madly, arm raised to slam down. It leaped forward, just as expected, not noticing the large crystalline pike that stood a short distance from the cliff. Vergil dodged, grabbed onto the beast's arm, twisted his body, and flung himself into the air, where he once again sheathed his blade, assumed a low stance, and fired his sword in a wide arc. A loud thunderclap could be heard as the blade was once again loosed from its cage. The bear, realizing its mistake, attempted to twist itself to regain balance mid-air, only to be hit by the swordsman's attack, which simultaneously bisected it and flung its upper torso towards the pike, impaling it on the structure. Vergil landed triumphantly near the dismembered bear's head, looking it in the eyes as the life faded from its body. He then flicked the blood from his sword, twirled it, and returned it to its sheath with a grin.

Perhaps my strength is returning after all…

Thoroughly pleased with the results of the battle, Vergil stepped off but was met by the source of the crystalline tower. It was a grisly sight—a stone sphere consisting of a mass of conjoined humanoid faces, each wearing varying degrees of deformity and expression. Some of the heads spat out blue magical clouds that resembled the underground city's night sky, while others moaned with a cacophony of screams and broken sounds that were vaguely reminiscent of human speech. Vergil walked past it in disgust, then turned around and shattered the sphere, putting the vile creature out of its misery.

Mere minutes had passed since Vergil stepped out of the lift, and already a number of creatures were poised to attack, with many more sure to come. Notwithstanding the burning sensation that stifled his breathing, this new hellish region would surely prove to be an interesting change. In a way, it felt much more familiar than anything else he had seen thus far. He gripped his scabbard once more and sought to find the next site of grace.