Liurnia of the Lakes – Grand Library – Nighttime
In the days following his invasion of Raya Lucaria, Vergil had gained much knowledge on the state of the Lands Between. He knew vaguely about the history of the land and confirmed his suspicion about what forces guided its inhabitants. The pale radiance of perpetual moonlight danced along the edges of the academy dome, shielding it from prying eyes and ill-meaning intruders. Though its defending scholars were all but decimated, the Academy remained insulated from the outside world. This worked to the pale swordsman's advantage, preventing outside forces from interfering with his reading. Held aloft by a series of gravity spells, tomes floated around the swordsman as he scanned through their contents. Stacks of magic scrolls and dusty manuscripts were arranged in neat patterns, each corresponding to their subject matter and importance.
Like everything else he did, Vergil preferred to keep his surroundings in order. Even in his youth, he always found something rather calming about the practice. To him, it served as a stalwart reminder that even if the world remained a source of strife and misery, he could always exert a measure of control, no matter how little.
Vergil continued to peruse through the half-faded pages of each tome, shocked at how long it's been since he simply sat down to read in peace. A part of him always stood alert while reading—part of him anticipating his younger brother to jump out of nowhere to interrupt as he was wont to do. He sighed when he caught his thoughts wandering. As much as he and his twin remained at odds, he could not deny that Dante always had a knack for amusement, though he would never grant his twin the satisfaction of ever hearing the sentiment.
Despite her initial misgivings about her reserved companion, Melina remained by Vergil's side, ready to offer guidance and strength whenever he asked for it. She was never given a strict timeline on when to usher in the next Elden Lord, but as it stood, Vergil could lay claim to a Great Rune by technicality. This meant that he was one step closer to achieving their mutual goal, and though others still vied for the Ring's fragments, she was now certain that her champion had the means to acquire the others no matter the opposition.
Melina observed from a respectable distance, herself engrossed in a series of texts about the rise of the Golden Order, with a few scrolls on their incantations set aside. As she leafed through each page and forbidden text, questions about the champion Radagon began to puzzle her. What caused him to leave Rennala's side? And what could have driven such a powerful sorceress to madness?
Several texts were dedicated to the differences between sorceries and incantations, some written by Rennala herself. These writings revealed the brilliance and sophistication the Carian queen once held before she fell to insanity. Melina read through descriptions of complex spells, some of which she'd learned to simply add to Vergil's ever-growing stack of scrolls. To Melina's frustration, she could find nothing to make sense of Radagon's departure. That is until Vergil stumbled upon a poorly hidden chest behind a stack of books. Seeing that it was locked, Vergil quickly took care of the problem in the only way he knew how and slashed the chest open so quickly that Melina wondered if it was ever locked at all. After rifling through its contents and sifting through a diary of sorts, Vergil shut the chest with a huff and returned to his quiet study. Drawn by curiosity, Melina decided to investigate the chest for something of value.
Resting within was an elaborate ring engraved with a warning: "Whoever thou mayest be, take not the ring from this place, the solitude of the night is better mine alone." Though she was captivated by the ring's beauty, Melina could not help but feel a pang of guilt at taking something that seemed so precious so decided to leave it in its place. Instead, she turned her attention to a leatherbound diary marked with Rennala's seal. If there was any way of uncovering the mystery that caused the collapse of the Carian royal family, it would likely be contained in the diary's pages. Melina swallowed her guilt and gave in to curiosity, skimming through the entries as though doing so would make the act somehow less intrusive.
Like her scholastic notes and philosophical debates on the nature of magic, Rennala's command over language was truly befitting of a queen. Several entries were that of a loving wife doting over her loyal husband, but as Melina continued to read on, she found passages heavily tinged with sorrow and confusion.
"He spoke of duty, of a calling higher than that of our love. But what could'st possibly tear apart a bond so strong? Why did'st thou leave, Radagon? Why must I be left with the remnants of thy broken promises? Thine absence eats away at mine heart. It hast cursed me like a wound left to fester; a madness that blights mine every thought."
Melina frowned before pushing herself to turn the page. Several other entries were written much like the one she'd read, though the writing grew less coherent over time. Some pages appeared to be ripped out, but one stood out with its crossed-out paragraphs and faded ink marked heavily by fragments of tears.
"The stars…they whisper secrets unto me. He is gone…but his shadow remains…an ever-present spectre of what is now lost. The moon…mine only companion…speaks of a destiny that none can escape. Shall I follow thine guidance, O' moon? Teach me thine ways…so that I might rid mine own self of this sorrow…Why Radagon…what manner of power would'st be worth thy sacrifice?"
Melina's eyes widened as the text quickly devolved into incoherent ramblings about celestial bodies and prophecies. The more she read, the more noticeable Rennala's decline, and how quickly it had set once her heart was broken. She set the diary aside with a sigh and picked up a scroll on incantations, hoping to find a hint of Radagon's motives, but could find none. Instead, she found various holy spells, each more powerful than the last. She unlatched the dagger on her belt and stepped outside to clear her mind of her confused frustration. When she returned to the library, she found that her companion had barely moved, though a new rotation of spellbooks floated above him.
Whilst browsing through the archive, Vergil came across some robes he repurposed into a rudimentary long coat. Thankfully, with the Academy's blue dress code, he was able to quickly find something appropriate; the fact that his chest remained exposed reminded him far too much of his brother for his liking, however. Vergil took infrequent breaks, only pausing to eat some prawn when he wasn't testing out a newfound skill or adapting a new spell to his repertoire. Though his grasp over his burgeoning demonic power was tenuous at best, what little he could safely use provided him enough of a basis to work around his limitations. The use of a staff to focus his energies was a tiresome practice, and the sooner he could be rid of it again, the better. He stretched a free hand in controlled intervals each time he flipped through a page, trying to get a mirage blade to manifest, or at the very least a spark of the many flavours of magic he had recently learned of. He thought back to the time he was able to manifest the Dark Angel's greatsword on a whim and wondered if he could replicate the same effect without losing himself to the demonic armour lying dormant within.
As he scanned through the ancient tomes, Vergil noted how different reality was structured in the Lands Between. The spells and ancient knowledge held within each page were fascinating, each school of magic drawing upon a different deity in a manner not too dissimilar to a demon bequeathing power to a human vessel. The more he read, the more he understood Sellen's ramblings about the primeval current and started to see them as more than fanciful allegories. Suddenly, all he had heard about Radahn waging war on the stars and halting their advance started to make sense. If anything, the apparent existence of so-called gods was what drew Vergil's interest. He needed to see exactly how much of what was written was truth and how much was fabrication. Sensing the maiden nearby, Vergil decided to express his incredulity.
"They worship a tree as a god?" Vergil asked his companion, his gaze never leaving the book he was currently engrossed in.
"Yes and no. The Erdtree is but a symbol of the Greater Will, the god that watches over the Lands Between."
"Your land's history speaks of other gods. What became of them?"
"Not too many are aware, myself included. With the rise of the Golden Order came the doctrine that the Greater Will was the one true god of the Lands."
Vergil smirked at the familiarity of the concept.
"You seem amused," Melina observed, noticing his change of expression.
"Indeed. Where I'm from, gods have always been nothing more than demons in disguise."
"How peculiar. I don't believe I've ever heard of demons" Melina replied, her curiosity matching his confusion. "What are these demons you speak of?"
Vergil raised a brow in disbelief, then immediately remembered where he was. "Demons are beings of immense power, each owing their existence to the underworld. They come in many forms, with some being clearly lesser than others…" he trailed off, realizing how nebulous the maiden's question was. However, seeing her fascination with the subject gave him some understanding of why the residents of Fortuna regarded Sparda as a god.
Melina listened intently, trying to understand this race of creatures that sounded like gods and demigods yet weren't. At first, she saw many immediate distinctions between Vergil's demons and the gods of the Lands Between, but the more Vergil talked about the ways these demons influenced his world and its inhabitants, the more she came to question exactly what made her gods any different.
"The Greater Will has always been seen as a benevolent force, guiding the Lands Between and keeping its inhabitants safe."
"Let me guess…so long as they submit to its 'will?'" Vergil remarked.
Melina's eyes grew at the realization. "…Yes. There are those to whom the Greater Will grants its blessings; those who see the call of grace, for example…But there are also those who have been denied the light of grace…the misbegotten, the omens…until recently, the Tarnished themselves."
"Benevolent…right…" Vergil responded, his sarcasm immediately apparent to his companion. For the first time since their meeting, Melina noticed Vergil's childish predispositions. In spite of his strength, Vergil was not immune to bouts of immaturity and was always prone to outbursts and brooding; like a child who had been denied the chance to grow. Melina could relate in a way, for she herself was thrust into the Lands with a vague purpose and little memory of how or why she came about. Once she came to the realization of her companion's disposition, she kept the knowledge to herself. No good would come about angering the son of Sparda, as she was abundantly aware of by this point.
"If there is truth in what you say, then how can we discern the true nature of such beings?"
"Power," Vergil cooly replied, clenching his fist near his face in a manner that caused Melina to tilt her head. "One must attain power to see through their intentions, and to oppose them should the need arise. Only then can the truth be revealed."
Melina slowly nodded in concern.
"Is that what you seek? To gain the power to see through the gods' deceptions?"
"Among other things. When I say power, I don't mean just strength, but power that is gained through understanding. One cannot hope to challenge that which they do not understand."
"You seem to speak from experience."
Vergil sardonically smirked, "You got that right. Whether it's to challenge false gods or whatever comes my way, I will surpass my father Sparda."
"So then…" Melina turned her gaze towards the floating tomes surrounding the swordsman. "Are you any closer to attaining this goal?"
"Perhaps." Vergil closed a tome only to exchange it with another. "Though I have learned much about primeval sorcery and the Great Runes, I have come to realize that there are powers that even the gods fear. I intend to wield it."
Melina's eye twitched, hoping that he was not referring to the flame of Frenzy. "You mean Destined Death?"
Vergil nodded, which immediately made Melina relax. Vergil noticed the tension that hung over the maiden before he agreed, which told him that there were many more flavours of power to explore than what he currently knew. "That…and the Black Flame."
"I see…" Melina nodded and retreated to her study. The seal holding her left eye briefly sparked at the mere mention of the power.
Liurnia of the Lakes – Manor Upper Level – Midday
Caria Manor was engulfed in smoke and fire – the brutal aftermath of his skirmish against a Lazuli sorcerer wielding the Sword of Night and Flame. The charred remains of Fingercreepers were scattered around the estate grounds—an apt punishment for their failed ambush. The blade sparked with a fusion of magics, chief among them being the stream of raw celestial energy. Vergil grimaced as he weaved his way up the walls of the burning manor.
The Sword of Night and Flame was a treasured weapon carried by the Carian Royal Family, its legacy as potent as its bite. Though like everything else, a weapon was nothing more than an extension of its wielder. Capable of harnessing the flame wielded by the Fire Giants and infused with the boundless expanse of the primeval current, the sword was among the more impressive relics Vergil had found so far in his journey. He examined the blade and admired its balance and craftsmanship, noting how it was capable of channeling two distinctly different sources of magic on a whim.
The precious weapon was formidable, though the stone-faced sorcerer himself gave little reason for pause. Traces of magic crackled through the air, the heat of the blistering fires contrasted against the blinding glintstone beam that swept through the manor. Vergil gracefully dodged each beam, finding more of a challenge in keeping his new coat from burning than any particular action the sorcerer took. His slender blade sparked with purple magic that sent it rushing at high speed at the Lazuli scholar, who could only gasp as the blade tore through the magical shield he raised, impaling his left arm with ease. With a wave of his hand, Vergil summoned the sword back to his side, grabbing its handle and sheathing it neatly.
"Did you really think such pitiful tactics would suffice?" Vergil mocked while the sorcerer stood defiant. Spitefully indifferent to his grievous injuries, the sorcerer dared to raise his weapon rather than surrender. Vergil only saw fit to grant him a swift end in response.
A chaotic stream of fire continued to quickly spread around the crumbling manor as Vergil slowly ascended the final staircase. Undeterred by the destruction before them, a pair of Royal Pages, crossbows nocked, attempted a futile ambush, only to be skewered by a volley of glintstone blades before they could react. Finding their garb to be of suitable make, Vergil took a small diversion to put on a new pair of trousers and boots.
Vergil dusted his coat from the ashes that lightly covered it, being careful to dodge the crumbling stone arches leading up to the manor exit. A thick cloud of dust and smoke obscured the field, but in the distance, he could vaguely make out the blue outline of a warrior on horseback. The figure marched forward with militaristic discipline, waving away some of the smoke obscuring its view with a twirl of its war sickle. Vergil flicked his sword, its blade beginning to crackle with a fusion of magical energies. This gave its edge a series of cracks that resembled its wielder.
Standing in his way was none other than the Royal Knight Loretta, or at the very least, a projection meant to evoke her prowess. Judging by how carefully she studied his reactions, the illusion was likely birthed from a memory in the same way that Rennala's apparition was. Much like Rennala's spectre, Loretta practically glided on the courtyard's shimmering surface—its foundation having been designed to reflect the moon's pale light to its fullest extent.
The mounted knight summoned a wave of glintblades to assail the swordsman, who was quick to deflect them with his scabbard while shooting his own. A trail of magical swords shot through the plume of smoke, shattering into pieces on contact. Vergil dashed through the Moongazing Grounds, his blade casting a violent reflection over its shimmering surface. But his armoured foe was not one to give ground readily and cast a wave of spells toward him as she retreated. Vergil responded with a whistle and summoned Torrent. His loyal steed whinnied with confusion but understood his task with surprising alacrity as he ran toward his mounted foe.
Vergil readied his sword, imbuing it with gravitational energy while he unlatched his staff and ignited a bluish-purple blade. The two combatants eyed each other with caution, the rising smoke a perpetual obstacle casting judgment over the ruined battleground. With a flick of his wrist, Vergil conjured spectral daggers toward his foe, while simultaneously commanding his steed to move forward. Torrent complied without hesitation and charged at full speed, his rider making sure to deflect any projectiles heading their way. With a mighty leap, Loretta's steed carried them through the air, the spectral rider imbuing her weapon with a familiar bluish tint. The whirling energy surrounding her weapon took on the form of a greatbow, with a large arrow nocked in preparation.
"Interesting…" Vergil mused over his opponent's clever use of magic. Though he favoured the practice of simply hurling summoned swords toward his opponents, he could not deny the simple elegance of using a bow. Vergil made sure to make a mental note to try the approach later, as it was a flexible way of using his power without resorting to the crude banality of his twin's firearms.
Loretta's ghost loosed her arrow to the pale swordsman, who deftly dodged and lifted his scabbard forward. With some mild effort and concentration, Vergil shaped the fused fragments of his demonic energy with the magic contained within the sheath, forming a spectral greatbow in a way that resembled his ghostly enemy. He twisted the bow sideways and launched a bluish-purple projectile toward the armoured ghost, who countered by imbuing her war sickle's tip with magic and slashing it away. Vergil sent another wave of arrows before deciding that the method was too inefficient and conjuring a phalanx of Mirage Blades to surround the living memory.
The spectral blades momentarily stunned and skewered Loretta's steed in place while Vergil quickly dismounted and leaped through the air, preparing to plunge his staff-blade into his enemy. Loretta's phantom quickly got hold of her steed's attention and nimbly sidestepped the attack, only to be struck by a rapid-fire assault of summoned swords that staggered and stunned her steed once again. Loretta attempted to shoot another arrow toward her foe which seemed to hit—until the smoke momentarily cleared and she found the swordsman eerily absent. Before she could respond, her head was knocked aside with the blunt force of Vergil's pommel, the sword wreathed in a purple field. Having made an opening, Vergil raised his pulsing staff-blade overhead, imbuing it with more energy, and slashed the newly formed greatsword to vanquish his opponent in one final swing.
"Is that all?"
Vergil pointed his sword toward his challenger, his blade shimmering on the water's surface.
Liurnia of the Lakes – Royal Moongazing Grounds – Late Afternoon
Loretta's ghost flickered and vanished into a wisp of sapphire smoke, her steed vanishing alongside her. In an instant, the courtyard fell silent, with only the sounds remaining being that of the dissipating spells and the distant crackle of flames from the ruined manor. Vergil stood still for a moment, scanning the area for further threats, and when he could find none, dismissed his armaments and called his blade back to his side. With the threats taken care of, Vergil directed his attention to the manor, now reduced to little more than a smouldering ruin. The battle was taxing, but his victory had never been in question.
As Vergil made his way through the courtyard, he reflected on the battle that had just taken place. The way he had vanquished his foe was simple, but there were always better ways to demonstrate his strength.
"Is that all?" Vergil repeated to himself, a faint smirk gracing his lips. There was always more to learn and more to conquer. Looking up, he could not help but see the far reaches of the golden Erdtree, its long branches seemingly stretching into eternity. He would make his way there sooner or later, but not before claiming more of what the Lands Between had to offer.
When the smoke finally cleared, the pale swordsman restored the site of grace that shone dimly on the shallow pool's surface. His companion knew immediately what to do and channeled his runes into strength, making sure to sustain his crumbling frame by imparting a small amount to improve upon his vigour.
"Did you find what you were looking for?" Melina asked, seeing the echoes of his latest victory.
Vergil nodded, his expression ever unchanging. As the sun began to set, Vergil thought about what more he could see, the things he could learn, and whether he would ever get the chance to test out his new skills against his younger twin. Compared to him, the fools in his way were nothing but fodder for his ascension.