Moongrum could only watch in horror as the monstrous intruder mercilessly slaughtered his mistress' children. Too weak to move and too injured to call for help, the loyal knight stewed in his resentment while each juvenile scholar dispersed into golden sparks. His heart sank the moment the queen's barrier shattered into pieces, the loathsome stranger ominously walking like a predator stalking its prey. His fading vision reminded him of his failure, the painful process expedited by the blood loss and excruciating pain that tore through his broken body. As his remaining strength drained away, he saw two figures being swallowed up by a dark mist.
Liurnia of the Lakes – Grand Library – Morning
Just as before, a black cloud obscured the pale devil's vision as he settled back into the calm serenity of the library. Once returned, Vergil immediately noticed that the darkness that obscured everything had surrendered, in its place shone a gentle silvery light that illuminated the grand archive. At its centre was the Carian queen, hunched over and cradling the amber egg like one would a newborn child. Her eyes remained glossy and unfocused aside from the object that commanded her obsession.
"Where did ye flee, my sweetings?" she dreamily asked, her gaze firmly fixed on the egg while she spoke,
"Come out, from whence ye hide. There are books and light aplenty."
The pale swordsman walked past the deranged queen, who continued to ramble on and stretched his hand toward the site of grace. His companion immediately stepped out of a blue mist, completely unprepared for the situation that was about to unfold. She blinked at first in surprise, which then quickly transformed into disbelief and horror. She noticed that the swordsman's already-tattered garb had mostly burnt off, leaving him with torn scraps of fabric that loosely hung over his chiselled frame. The sorry state of his clothing revealed the cracked porcelain-like skin normally hidden beneath—a fairly recent development. Potent streams of blue energy hissed between the gaps as if the swordsman's body was barely holding itself together despite everything he had accomplished. Even still, his expression was statuesque and unreadable in its stoicism, though she could vaguely infer a hint of his characteristic impatience and annoyance with the way his eyes shifted.
Melina felt her cheeks grow hotter as she realized that he had caught her staring, which only flustered her even more. She struggled to regain her composure by averting her gaze, an action that left her with more questions than answers once she saw the figure sitting at the centre of the library. The swordsman's cool demeanour only served to exacerbate the maiden's state of unease, so she deflected by asking about the sitting figure.
"Is that...Queen Rennala?"
"It would appear so."
"One could hardly tell from her current state. The tales always spoke of how fiercely she defended against the forces of the Golden Order…and how she fought its champion Radagon to a stalemate."
"The tales were not…inaccurate…" Vergil examined his arm and tore off what remained of the rags that still hung on him, inadvertently exposing more of himself to the maiden. He had evidently come to blows with the mighty queen judging by his appearance…but given her current state that was hard to believe.
"Is that why you're…indecent?" the maiden trailed off; her vision still pointed elsewhere.
"Take a guess."
"But how? Surely, she's incapable of fighting in her current state." Melina approached the queen and noticed the lack of damage to her and her surroundings. It was quite the contrast from her companion, who smelled of ash and magic dust.
"A so-called witch cast some type of failsafe on that amber egg," Vergil remarked as he idly dusted himself off. "Not bad for an illusion."
"I see…Is the queen truly unharmed?"
Vergil nodded once in affirmation. "I see no point in harming someone in her state. That egg, however, has my interest. If I'm not mistaken, it should contain one of those Great Runes you would have me gather."
"Indeed, it does. Sealed in that egg is the Great Rune of the Unborn…If the legends speak true, then the rune possesses the ability to perform rebirth."
"Rebirth…huh…? How curious…"
Without warning, Vergil's left hand twitched and his expression darkened, a sure tell that something was amiss.
"Is everything alright?" the maiden asked, though the answer was immediately apparent.
The same sinister purple aura that haunted Vergil began to spark into being, crackling with unholy might. Melina couldn't make sense of what she was seeing, but it was as if the energy was beginning to morph into the silhouette of an armour that swallowed her companion entirely. His eyes started to shift into a deep crimson as the blue energy that bled from his corrupted flesh became more pronounced. Vergil took a deep breath and steeled himself. He knew that this would happen again, but he also knew not to fear it. Mundus may have cursed him, but he would never take his demonic heritage away. To continue to reject it would be foolish, no different than his misguided twin.
A small whirlwind began to swirl around Vergil, drawing in loose pages and misplaced scrolls into the vortex. Melina braced herself, her hands shining a brilliant gold. The last time she broke him out of this state was unpleasant, but it did seem to work. She took one step toward the maelstrom but paused when her companion calmly shook his head.
"No. Allow me." Vergil's eyes shone with a determination that indicated he was more in control than he was previously. Despite her hesitance, Melina decided to abide by his wish for the time being. Vergil's memories began to flash in rapid succession.
Demon World – Room of Fallen Ones
"Done with the drivel yet? I can still keep going."
He was barely able to move his arms. His head hung low from the gravity, his body hanging limp due to the knot of otherworldly spikes embedded into his spine. Blood heavily stained his embroidered azure cloak, tattered first from the intense duel between him and his twin a few hours prior, and later torn to shreds from the demon emperor's merciless onslaught. Vergil's strength was swiftly fading, but the demon emperor would have to do much more harm to make him concede. A pair of piercing blue eyes bore holes into the fearsome ruler's stone gaze, heavily laden with the stubborn hubris of one who would fight until he'd exhausted himself to his last breath. This was the wretch behind it all—from the disappearance of his father to the destruction of his family.
He must pay for what he's done….
The blue devil's anger and frustration had reached a critical point, but neither gave him the fuel he desperately needed to start moving again. Had willpower been enough, Mundus would have been on his knees begging for mercy, for he too was still in a weakened state. But Vergil was rash, overconfident to the point of blindness, and prone to foolish mistakes that would have given him a fighting chance. A single misstep was all it took, and in this case, his decision to fight immediately after losing to Dante had cost him dearly. Hindsight had always been cruel, and this was no exception.
Mundus burst into uproarious laughter; the sound laced with sinister glee. There was a sweet irony in being granted a chance for revenge without moving a muscle. It was true that he had orchestrated everything; he was never one to take defeat lying down. But for all his cunning and foresight, even Mundus could never have predicted the delicious twist of fate that had been granted to him. The demon emperor relished the thought, his laughter fading into a toothy grin. The elder son of the infamous traitor Sparda had unwittingly fallen into his prison, weakened, and reeling from the jaws of defeat. Despite his weakness, Sparda's petulant heir proved to be more challenging than Mundus would have liked, but it mattered little, for he was now ensnared and unable to resist.
The blue devil's body hung motionless, but his eyes were as defiant as his unbroken spirit. Mundus smirked.
There are many ways to break someone's body, but to break someone's spirit is much more enjoyable.
Mundus stretched his hand toward the blue devil, laughing all the while. From shadows borne of the boy's suffering, Mundus crafted an elaborate shell, indelicately swathing his insolent prisoner inside it.
"The heart is a tumour of weakness. So let me rid you of it."
The black sludge swallowed the halfling until nothing remained, its viscous tendrils creeping into him like a living nightmare. His body was broken piece by bloody piece, every vein, artery, and pore screaming in agony. Despite its outward appearance, the armour offered no protection; it was a parasite—a living coffin of demonic flesh that sustained itself by feeding on its unwilling host.
Through the ages, Mundus kept himself preoccupied by siring the most fearsome creatures in the underworld—from the gluttonous Leviathan to the unrelenting Blitz. The idea of creating an artificial demon was not a foreign concept but having one as powerful as Sparda's heir was a novelty not easily encountered. Mundus infused the tar-like slurry with his lifeforce, for he needed an enforcer to carry out his every command. To serve under the ruler of the underworld was an honour not easily bestowed, and this new servant needed a form worthy of his divine purpose.
"You need neither ego, nor memories."
Vergil immediately felt his innate energies being forcefully ripped out of him the moment his body met the dark tendrils. Each pulse drained him of his strength and willpower until he was reduced to a stray thought in an abyss of nothingness; vaguely aware of his body acting outside his volition. The process was not painless by any means, but no sound came out from the fallen son of Sparda. In spite of his predicament, Vergil withheld his screams, for he did not wish to give Mundus the satisfaction of witnessing his suffering. His mind reeled in a vortex of defiance and anguish, desperately clinging to a resolve that was being callously snuffed out.
"I will bestow upon you a new name, servant of the Demon Emperor."
Heavy chains sprouted out of the sinister cocoon, a sure sign that the new servant's metamorphosis was nearing completion. Where once there was flesh, there now was nothing but a shell made of anguish and fragments of demonic essence and living metal. An imposing creature emerged from the liquid shadow, reborn. Its eyes shone with an intense yellow glow in contrast with the dark features of its expressionless visage.
"Your new name will be…"
Liurnia of the Lakes – Grand Library – Morning
Vergil's face drained of all colour, shocking the maiden who could not bear to watch as her companion turned into something unrecognizable. Loose pages continued to swirl around the pale demon whose eyes sparked a calm determination. His eyes were closed, and his eyebrows furrowed in deep concentration. He raised his left hand and formed a fist just below his neck, reaching for some pendant that was not there. Melina curiously approached, only to be repelled by a spherical barrier that surrounded her companion. A raging gust swirled around the barrier, barring all from coming near. In the near distance, the mad queen continued to dote on her precious egg, oblivious to the goings-on around her.
Demon World – Room of Fallen Ones
The demon contained within continued to resist, the shattered remnants of his consciousness refusing to surrender. Mundus was simultaneously amused and frustrated. Vergil's display of rebellion was an affront to his absolute power, a stubborn reminder of the demon that slew his armies and sealed him for 2 millennia. Amid the vicious transformation, a small object pierced through the darkness, drawing the emperor's attention and subsequent ire. Sparda's pendant was a sight he would recognize from anywhere, for it possessed the power to act as a key to the demon world. Mundus delicately raised the golden pendant, realizing that his slave followed its every movement with a pathetic desperation that could only be attributed to humanity.
It was at this moment that Mundus understood what he needed to do. With a single command, his new general knelt before him, all traces of dissent beginning to fizzle out. A glint of light bounced off the crimson jewel, causing its rays to reflect an eerie glow. Though his eyes shone with fierce determination, the dark angel could not help but obey his new master. Mundus' lips curled into a cruel smile as he dangled the pendant just out of reach.
"Ah…Nelo," he uttered, his voice dripping with malice. "Is this trinket what you desire? Such weakness will not stand…"
Vergil responded with a low, guttural growl, the last vestiges of his resistance simmering beneath the surface. Though Mundus wanted nothing more than to destroy yet another trace of Sparda's legacy, he knew better than to waste a clear opportunity. Though he did not understand the need for such sentimentalities, he could not deny how effective the trinket was at guaranteeing his new servant's obeisance.
Mundus took a step closer, his massive form towering over the kneeling figure.
"Swear your loyalty to me, and this shall be yours," he offered; his gravelly voice a booming echo.
The conflict within Vergil was palpable, a storm of fury and longing. The pendant swayed gently, a hypnotic beacon in the darkness. With a final, shuddering breath, Vergil lowered his head, the chains of his will bending to the overwhelming power of Mundus's command.
Mundus chuckled darkly.
"Good," he droned, fastening the pendant around Vergil's neck. "Now rise, my dark angel. I have plans for you yet."
Liurnia of the Lakes – Grand Library – Morning
The chaos in the grand archive began to settle the moment Vergil opened his eyes. The subtle screech of crinkled pages echoed around the room, offering small interruptions in between the deafening silence that ensued when the unknown magics subsided. The atmosphere, once fraught with danger and distress, now hung with a tense calm.
Vergil rolled his neck and felt the tension leave his muscles. Melina stood in stunned silence, as filled with confusion as she was with awe. Despite seemingly regaining himself, Vergil's appearance remained unchanged. His pale skin, still resembling cracked porcelain, still glowed with the same eerie blue light that coursed through his body. The only hint that anything had changed was that his once conflicted demeanour had returned to its usual stoicism, an unshakable calm that heavily contrasted the display of power she just witnessed. As the dust finally began to settle, the maiden found her voice and broke the silence.
"Vergil…my friend…are you alright?"
Vergil turned to her; the calmness of his expression betrayed the exhaustion reflected in his eyes.
"I am fine," he replied, his tone steady and composed. "We have more pressing matters to attend to."
"I do not wish to impede, but please…I ask that you allow me to share your burden."
Vergil paused for a moment then softly sighed and nodded his head.
"Very well. I will allow you to assist me when the need arises."
"That is not what I meant. You say you are fine, but clearly, you are not. That power you wield, mighty as it is…is killing you. Perhaps you should consider-"
"Foolishness. This power is my legacy…my birthright. I would sooner die than relinquish it again."
"That is what I fear. I can imbue you with the power of runes as much as I can, but that can only delay your ailment until another storm rages within you." The maiden paused and turned to the queen, who remained woefully distracted. "I believe there is a solution. Would you consider being reborn?"
"You mean with that Great Rune that she wields?"
"Yes. Surely it can rid you of your suffering."
Vergil paused for a moment to consider the maiden's words. To be reborn was to start anew, free to do as he pleased, without the burden of the memories that haunted him or the malady that ails him. His body as it stood was a broken shell of what it was, corrupted by Mundus' influence and cursed by the humanity that constantly held it back. If he could control the conditions of this rebirth, then perhaps he could become a full demon, unburdened by the weakness that humanity represented.
He nearly resolved to approach the queen when he was stopped by the image of his mother's amulet shining through the darkness of Mundus' lair.
Father…Dante…Mother…. would I forget them too?
Vergil resolutely shook his head and responded.
"I have already been reborn once…and it was unpleasant. I lost all sense of self, my memories, and my knowledge. I fought with everything I had…but you can see the fruits of my folly."
"…But your body can hardly contain that power. What will you do if you lose control again?"
"I will face it when it happens. This is my nature, and I refuse to cower to it."
The maiden looked at him, her golden eye filled with concern. She knew better than to argue further. From what she'd repeatedly witnessed, Vergil's resolve was unyielding—his willpower a force that would undoubtedly serve him well should he take the Elden throne.
"Very well," she softly responded. "Just know that I am here to help, whenever you need it."
Vergil gave her a brief nod and brought his attention to the task at hand. Melina looked around the grand archive, with its mountainous stacks and bottomless capacity for ancient tomes. She turned to the swordsman and spoke. "Where do we begin?"
The two travellers wandered through the halls of the archive, searching for any information they could find. The grand library was vast, and with all threats taken care of, all that was left was to sift through its secrets.