Note: Sorry for uploading this late at night! Most of you probably didn't even notice that I uploaded Friday's chapter for the same reason! I just had another GERD episode last night and wasn't able to go to sleep until 7:00 this morning because I couldn't lay down, so naturally, I slept until about 5:00 in the afternoon SMH! After grabbing something to eat that wouldn't send me to the hospital and taking the time to edit, this was going to have to be a late-night project! See you all again on Friday!
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Running into issues down here was an inevitability, but to say that any of them had expected to run into something the very instant that they stepped through the black gates that led to the area after traversing the collapsed castle would be incorrect. All of them had expected something, sure, but none of them were sure what that might be, and they were expecting it to happen so soon. None of them had expected a trip ending roadblock this early into their endeavor. They had come this far. What was the holdup?
The four of them grew quiet momentarily, none of them ready or sure as to what they should say in a situation like this. They had not come all the way down here to be waylaid by a minor inconvenience, but the fact that they could not even see what was going on or where they were going didn't exactly help things. If Dante said that there was a problem, they were fully willing to believe it. The only issue was how were they going to solve it? They didn't know what it was just yet, but something told the three of them that could not see where they were going that they were probably walking into a trap of some sort. They had figured as much, but this was just confirmation.
Stepping forward, the Darkslayer came to his younger twin side, unsure as to what he was talking about in this kind of impenetrable darkness. He was certain that whatever Dante was talking about probably was actually an issue, but not being able to actually see what it was didn't help him solve the problem any quicker. And then just as he approached, he saw it.
Just beyond where they stood, a gaping chasm opened up in front of them, somehow even darker than the space they already occupied. That didn't seem entirely possible, but although it was possible for their eyes to deceive them, it seemed as though it was. And despite the width of the canyon not being that wide, it did stretch for quite a distance around, almost seemingly looping back on itself off in the vague distance. They weren't sure what its purpose was or if it had simply naturally occurred in the area as a result of erosion or something, but it did put a damper on things.
"Dante, I fail to see why this would be an issue," Vergil said calmly, keenly aware of the fact that both he and his identical twin were capable of flying. Nero was as well, and as for V… well, they hadn’t the slightest idea. But they could always just carry him across. This was far from an impassable obstacle as far as he was concerned, and the only reason he could think of that his twin had pulled them to the side to halt their progress was due to the risk of them falling to their own deaths if they did not see where they were going ahead of time.
"No, seriously, hold on a second. You can't feel that?" Dante asked, seemingly bewildered. There wasn’t a trace of annoyance or irritation in his tone, but there were the slightest vestiges of utter disbelief as he looked out over the canyon and then back at his twin, his inability to believe that his brother didn't see what he saw palpable.
Vergil looked at him for a moment as though he had grown a second head before stepping slightly closer and looking at the canyon for a moment. He seemed to pick up on his brother's more serious tone and decided to try and investigate the cause of the problem a bit closer. But after about a full minute of staring into the abyss and only feeling the weakest traces of the same darkness that he felt everywhere else, he wasn't sure what his brother was getting at.
"... Is this a joke, Dante?" The devil hunter in blue asked, peering over at his twin in halted annoyance. He was waiting for the punchline to actually show his annoyance in case by some miracle his younger twin wasn't actually doing this to mess with him. He knew that Dante occasionally lacked the seriousness required for certain tasks, but he hoped that he was better at reading the room than he thought was. After all, he would have to be astoundingly tone-deaf to think that this was the time for any sort of humor.
Sighing, Dante gestured for both Nero and V to step forward, unsure as to whether or not either of them could pick up on what was going on. Much to his surprise, Nero seemed to be actively unnerved by whatever it was that he was sensing, much like he himself was. It was hard to express in words what he could sense, but it was a palpable feeling of dread that he wasn't used to feeling. He did not know its cause, but what he did know was that whatever it was had to do with this gap, and he didn't wish to encounter it.
But to the genuine surprise of everyone present, V was much calmer, and he seemed to be looking directly at something neither of them had noticed. They all lingered on him in the darkness, the faint outline of his body barely visible in the twilight as they struggled to follow the place his eyes had drifted to. Even in this intense darkness, it seemed that something had caught his eye, even if he wasn't saying as much.
"You see something, don't you? I can just tell by that look on your face." Nero said, looking at V closely and entirely unsure as to what he should think. It didn't surprise him that his older brother might have some insight into this that they didn't, but what did surprise him was the notion that V might have noticed it so quickly when none of them had, especially when his father and uncle seem to be split down the middle in regards to being able to tell anything about whatever this was. He was certain that they were probably seeing the same thing, but whereas Vergil could not detect it at all and Dante could feel something much like he could, it seemed that V could actually see it. And Nero wasn't sure why, but there was something unnerving about that. What was going on here?
"Correct. Your intuition has served you well." V said softly, his demeanor cautious but admittedly curious. He had just rapidly become aware of the fact that he was the only one that could see this, and that intrigued him as much as it made him worry. That implied that perhaps there was something to this that was more sinister. Was this the result of something unique to him, or was what he was seeing actively choosing him to be the only one who could view it? His arm tingled in discomfort.
Opting to just show them what he was seeing instead of trying to explain it, V stepped forward, carefully leaning until he was gripping his cane, his right knee flush with the ground. He winced internally at the discomfort it caused him, Knowing ahead of time that this would be the case, but never quite ready for it even when he did it. His leg wasn't broken. Far from it. But that didn't mean that it didn't still make him uncomfortable to get down onto the floor in this sort of position. After all, it was something that had been deduced by Belial's cult easily enough. That was part of the reason that they had chained him to the floor in the way that they had. It had become evident to them quickly that being on his knees was something he didn't enjoy in this slightest. Ever since that fall on the lake, that had very much been the case. And however cruel it might be that this was constantly used against him by his enemies, he had to admit that it was an obvious weakness in a battle, even if he did not see it that way.
He leaned over and pressed his hand to the surface of the abyss, the darkness rippling like water as he clearly demonstrated that the bottomless pit might not be quite as bottomless as they had all originally assumed. Dante and Vergil both looked at each other in surprise as Nero quite literally reached up and scratched the back of his neck in confusion, unsure as to how to process what had just happened. None of them had been able to tell that the surface of that canyon had been covered in a liquid. How had he been able to?
"I am unable to explain how I was able to see that this was a falsity, but it was simply something that I knew. Something about this place… I believe that although I have no way of having a connection to it, I might have some sort of tie to it." The Young summoner but the white hair paused for a moment, clearly waiting to see how his relatives would react. He didn't like the fact that he was gauging their reaction, but there was some part of him that instinctually feared expressing any kind of internal knowledge of his power. It was something that had gone very badly for him historically, and as much as he hoped in the bottom of his heart and assumed that his family would never react in the way that those people had, it would not be the first time he had been betrayed by someone close to him. He was apprehensive about this entire situation, but explaining the way that his powers may or may not affect him… That was an entirely different case. "It is something that I cannot explain. It is something that I simply know. I instinctually understand how this place functions and how to manipulate it… at least I think so. To what extent, I'm unaware. But what I am aware of is the fact that somehow I have an effect on this place and I probably shouldn't. That probably makes no sense but… "
Vergil looked at his eldest child quietly before looking over at Nero, fascinated by the fact that both of his sons could sense something about this place that he couldn't. He wasn't sure why that was or how it could be, especially when Dante was capable of some degree of knowledge of it, but he wasn't going to dwell on it. If V possessed the capability to help them navigate this place more easily, then that was a good thing, at least for the time being. But still, was this the first time that something like this had happened with his eldest son? That was something that did admittedly pique his interest.
"This inclination that you possess… is this the first time that you have felt this connection?" He asked bluntly but calmly, aware of the fact that putting his eldest child on the spot about something like this would probably backfire. Still, it was something that they needed to know before they continued. Something to potentially be cautious of. For all he knew, this could be a make-or-break moment. "I get the distinct impression that this was not the first time that you have sensed something like this, whatever that might actually be. You don't seem to fully grasp or understand it."
He closed his eyes, acutely aware of the fact that there was no turning back from what he was about to say. He knew that he needed to, but that didn't mean that this was going to be at all easy or enjoyable. He had simply hoped to dance around this topic eternally until the day he died, but it seemed that he was out of options and that the time had come for him to finally discuss this aspect of his past. He knew that this wasn't the time or the place, but that changed very little about the necessity of it. Very few of the things that were important in his life that he needed to articulate to those that he loved were ever things that he could say in an ideal matter at an ideal time. He knew this, but there was still some part of him that wished that wasn't the case. It was time to tell them a little bit about his past and educate them about things that pertained to him that they had little to no prior knowledge of.
"And you would be correct. I was heavily ostracized for my abnormality. It started off in small ways. The people who I was under the care of would spend less and less time around me as though I had done something, and then the whispering in the halls started; falling silent the moment I came into hearing range as though they thought that by knowing that they were speaking of me I would do something about it. And then I started to see things. I had been raised to be honest, but that honesty immediately came back to haunt me the first time that I expressed to them that I might be able to see or feel things that others couldn't. That I could reach out into abstract space and still feel something tangible." V felt quiet for a moment, his demeanor shifting slightly as he anchored himself. These were painful memories, things that he wanted very little to do with. But he had no choice. He needed to get this off of his chest at the very least. But still, there was something about talking about this that just chilled him to the bone. He had hoped to never have to say anything about this, but a part of him knew that that was a vain hope. There was no way that that was going to happen. "Nothing went right in my life after that, and I heavily repressed any connection to anything that would make me feel the way that I do right now in order to survive. And yet… There is something about this place that awakens something in me long dormant. Something that I can't place but I must admit that I hold no positivity towards. Something deeply wrong."
Dante looked over at both Nero and Vergil for a moment, a tinge of silent sympathy in his eyes. He did not know what it felt like to be rejected by those who were supposed to love you the most, especially not in such a brutal way. Although the loss of their mother and father had devastated both of them, their parents had never shown any signs of not caring for them during the time that they had been there. It was hard for the demon slayer and the red coat to even fathom the idea of a child growing up knowing that they were unloved and unliked. He knew from talking with Nero that he had gone through a similar experience, but he wasn't sure to what extent either of them had experienced this. And in Nero's case, it was to his understanding that at some point he had met a family who was kind to him and who had taken him in, and that had led to him getting to know Kyrie and Credo. Nero had lost that love when their parents had died, but he had known it if only for a short time, and it had had an extraordinary impact on his young life.
But to think that V had never known it at all…
And then it occurred to him what his nephew had just said. He'd been shunned for having the abilities that he possessed, made to feel as though he were unnatural or unwanted. Dante knew what it was like to not particularly want the powers that had been given to him, but he had been the one to reject them, not the others around him. So much about his young nephew made sense now that he knew this for a fact. He had always figured that something devastatingly detrimental had occurred in his childhood to make him the way that he was, but he would never have guessed that he had been so eternally alone for so very long. They were probably the closest thing to a functional home he had ever had, and the idea of that alone was enough to deeply horrify him.
Something was now clear to him that he had not considered previously. Perhaps the cause of his young nephew’s inability to control his power, and if not the source, then something that most certainly played into it. Both he and Vergil had had ample opportunity to experiment with their powers over the years out of both necessity and curiosity, even if at times he himself wanted nothing to do with his powers and wanted nothing more than to be entirely human; to forsake that part of himself much as Vergil had forsaken his own humanity. Nero had grown up in an environment that didn't encourage the power that they did not know he possessed, but he had been trained to fight and given an outlet. And then there was V… The child who had been raised to believe that he was corrupted and wrong and who had probably learned to associate the part of himself that he could not control with fear and rejection. Something was now abundantly clear to him.
"You're afraid of your own powers so you repressed them until they stopped working, and now their back and stronger than ever, and you can't fully understand or control them anymore, can you?" He said quietly, aware of the fact that his young nephew was probably already in a delicate emotional state even if he wasn’t showing it. He didn't want to lay off this on him before they went into such a dangerous fight, but there was a part of him that just genuinely wanted to know the answer to that question. He hoped he wasn't being selfish.
V looked down at the floor for a moment, his eyes catching the gleaming reflection of the black rippling surface but made up the top of the canyon. It was a strange thing to be this bashful about oneself, but his past experiences had led to this, and as much as he had tried to shake them or push them down and away over the years, he just couldn't fully do it. He glanced up at Dante, his gaze lingering on him as his father's younger twin seemed to understand something about him that he didn't even understand about himself. Or at the very least, wasn't sure that he did. There was only so much that can be gleaned from a look, and yet…
"... Anymore? I don't think that there has ever been a point in my life where I have been fully in control of anything, let alone my powers. I thought for many years that I was simply insane, and that led me down an even darker path. My ability stopped working during my teen years and I was finally allotted some level of peace and normality, but when the attack in Lympha happened, it all came rushing back, slowly undoing the progress I had made. I pushed it down again, but much less successfully until I met you." V looked over at his father, his demeanor somehow even worse than it had been a moment before. He wasn't really sure what else he could say at this point, but perhaps there was something he could try. "Stand aside for a moment… there is something I want to do. I’m not sure that I actually know how it’s done… but this is something that I need to do."
They all fell silent for a moment before Nero stepped forward and placed his hand on his brother’s shoulder, nodding as he waited for him to look him in the eye. When their gazes met, he spoke, hoping that V knew that he genuinely meant what he had to say. “Then do it, V. No one is going to stop you. If you think you need to do something, don’t ask for permission. Just go for it.”
V looked at him quietly before a look of something akin to determination crossed his face. He then nodded and turned his attention towards the abyss, a small smile on his face. “Thank you, Nero. I will.”
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Yes, I'm evil enough to make you wait until Friday to see what it is he's planning to do… I'm actually really excited for Friday's chapter. It's going to be really interesting. Plus, I think you all know what's coming… see you then and in the comment section! I really hope you liked this chapter! And sorry for any screw-ups with grammar correction. Again, it's one of those late-night projects and sometimes I just don't catch things, especially when I have to play them back to myself out loud for editing purposes.
Note: I combined chapters 99 and 100 into this chapter because that made much more sense than the original flow. Did it make this chapter the longest by about double of any chapter I had ever written before in the entire series? Absolutely. Does it mean that you guys get an extra chapter in the story? Totally! That's also why this was published at nearly midnight, but at least I made the deadline! Lol! I can only hope that the colossal word count of this chapter makes up for the delays! And I genuinely hope that it's satisfying. Chapter 100 will be out on Sunday, so look forward to the bonus chapter! It didn't make sense to me after condensing two chapters into one to then put the very last one at the beginning of next week. But don't worry about all of that right now. This isn't over. There's more info at the end, and if you have any questions, you can always let me know. Now enjoy the chapter! It's 18k and 36 full pages worth of what I hope is some of the best writing I've ever pulled off. I'll let you be the judge of that!
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Enveloped in the darkness that only resided behind closed eyes, he could hear his breath. Inhale and exhale, subconscious but essential now coming slower than he was used to. He could practically feel the blood in his veins flowing as something primordial shifted within him, the overwhelming torrent of memories and thoughts that had once clouded his mind becoming a muddled mess that slowly diluted before drifting away and falling back behind him, leaving him to his silence. He could breathe freely for the first time in what felt like a lifetime. There was no weight anymore. Just stillness.
So this is what it was like to feel the weight fall away and leave him floating in beatific lightness, the agony of a lifetime's worth of guilt and sorrow becoming nothing more than the whispers that only acceptance could put behind closed doors. Within his mind for what felt like several lifetimes had been the machinations of every hateful word that had ever been spoken to him. For every time that he had ever sat in the dark solitude of a room, contemplating his own inadequacy and failure, for every time that he had pondered his own self-worth and found it lacking, and for every time that he had longed for acceptance but doubted to his very core that he could ever truly be found, there was indeed a revelation to be reached. For every insurmountable trial that he had managed to overcome even if he had done so crawling on his knees and taking his last breath, he had made it here.
He was V. He was a member of the Sparda bloodline. And he was worth something, even without that.
For a moment there was only silence. But then within the confines of his consciousness, the realization that something deep within him had shifted became undeniable. And he was no longer afraid of it. He felt his skin prickle with the kind of power that was genuinely impossible to explain, something that he knew by instinct how to control but had never attempted to. Every time that he had tempted fate and tasted even the slightest bit of this sort of power, he had been racked with guilt and utter contempt for himself. And the fear… Why hadn't he been born normal? Why had he been born at all? Would intrinsic value could this fragile, broken, unwanted, and discarded thing ever hope to hold? This fractured shell that had been kicked and deemed unworthy by everyone who had ever held sway over him. Everyone who was supposed to love him growing up and during his formative years. No one seemed to care for his presence, and as such, he had largely not cared for himself. If there was no one to love him, then how could he love himself?
But in spite of that, he had held himself together. Perhaps his ability to press forward in the face of such immense struggle had been his greatest power all along? The willpower required to wield this kind of burden regardless of how deserved and had been. He had sat down and seen the end on multiple occasions, and had made the decision to press on. To force himself towards something that might be better even if it wasn't possible that it could be worse, only to find that it had been worse but to still stride forward in the hopes that it would change this time. In the hopes that something grand could come from nothing. He had felt that he had been nothing. And all of that had led him here. To this moment where he finally had a chance to take back his life to start anew. And he would be damned if this devil Prince took that from him. From any of them.
He had felt it creeping up on him his entire life, this sensation that he felt now. The only difference now was that he was going to allow it to overflow. There was no point in running from it any longer. He was done running from who he was, and he was done caring what the rest of the world thought he should do with his life. Who they thought he should be. He was going to be who he actually was deep down, and there wasn't a damn thing that could stop him. The devil Prince had poked holes in the dam that held back this power, but he was going to be the one to unleash it and allow it to flow freely.
The Young summoner could feel every inch of this space. It was like an extension of himself, crawling up the walls and running back down into a pool of what can only be described as black water. He could hear the trickling as though it were the only sound within this place, his heartbeat pounding in his ears as he felt would he could only describe as an electrical current coursing through his veins and filling his entire body to the brim.
From deep within him he could feel the pull of the void. V had always been in the darkness. He had been born into it, and it had followed him his entire life like a shadow. From every unexplainable dream that he had ever experienced, to every time that he doubted his sanity over the course of his lifetime; from every midnight stroll to cold winter's evening where he had felt the uncanny presence of something more but seen nothing, it had been lying dormant within him. Waiting. Seeking out the things he tried to avoid. It helped to shelter him from many things, but drew him ever closer to others. It had called out to him in the woods surrounding Lympha, trying its very best to lure him into its embrace.
And now at the very darkest point of the underworld, he had made his way home. And this time, he was in control.
On the other side of the vast space that separated them, a familiar being beared down on them, its head slumped to one side. Each of its five eyes were present, the long slits growing longer in length as they reached the center eye in the middle of its head. They each blinked in a sort of wave from left to right, something that was as disconcerting to watch as it had to be inconvenient to experience. And from that being came a strong gust of air, not enough to push them back or dissuade them from pursuing their target, but enough to make it clear that his lungs were unfortunately still functional. What a shame. One could only dream…
But something was clearly amiss. The large head was laying on its side, the spot where its ear should have been parallel to the ground. Iridescent black and silver liquid ran from out of the creature's head as it lay there, clearly in a sorry state. Not a single one of them had the slightest idea how their opponent had come to be in the state, but he seemed to be utterly broken, his eyes the only thing that shifted as they came closer. And despite the fact that they had stayed at a distance thus far, it had clearly seen them long before they had been able to see it in the darkness, V's intuition the only thing that had alerted them to its presence. Belial was nigh on undetectable, and that was unsettling.
"So you've come to me."
It was the same foul voice that had spoken to him in the illusionary version of the store he had visited that day with Sirrus. It was the same voice that belonged to the hand that had snatched his companion down that long corridor to his possible death. And it was the voice of the devil that he had come to kill. He would show his opponent no mercy, even if he only had the vaguest grasp as to how they were going to manage to do that. Even with all four of them here, he could still feel the strength that his enemy radiated. This was exceedingly dangerous. Their previous battles to get here seemed like child's playing comparison.
"Yes, I have," V said in a manner so calm that it was nearly dismissive as they stepped forward, the animosity in his cool tone readily apparent and undeniable. He despised this creature with every fiber of his being, and it was something that could not be overlooked or denied. The dark power that radiated off of him almost seemed to react to his calm rage, crackling off of him like black electricity, his icy demeanor backed up by his sheer lack of giving a shit about what his enemy was talking about. He had dismissed it before the syllables had even reached his ears, let alone been processed by his brain.
The massive head that belonged to their enemy sputtered, coughing up some sort of black viscous liquid that was presumably blood, but no one was going to exactly go and check. The liquid skin simply moved apart and allowed the black substance to squirt out, none of the rest of its face moving. The two slits where his nostrils would have been If he'd been human flexed slightly, indicating that he was taking in air. None of them dared to get too close, instead sizing up their opponent with what could only be described as utter contempt. This was the pathetic slug of a creature that had dragged them all down here and threatened to destroy their very reality? Although the aura that it radiated was admittedly potent and nerve-wracking, its physical form almost seemed weak. Perhaps too weak. A ploy, then?
"Hmmm… A part of me knew that this would happen from the moment that hex was cast to drag your soul back from the depths. Fitting for this to end where it all started." The foul creature said, a deep room-shaking chuckle echoing throughout the entire space. The vibration alone was enough to make them lose their balance, but the group held study regardless, unwilling to let something that minor unsettle them. They would not falter here, not when they had come this far. The twins share a look with one another that could only be described as sheer determination, Nero sparing a glance at his older sibling before sharing one with Dante and Vergil. He knew that his brother was a being of sheer will and determination, his focus on wavering, but the amount of calm he exuded in the face of such mind-numbing terror was impressive. He was continually reminded of his sibling's inner strength, something that was truly remarkable and admirable to him. It only strengthened his determination to fight by his side.
"And that you should die here. You hold no claim over me." V said calmly, stepping slightly forward and pointing his cane out towards his opponent. He closed his eyes for a moment, inhaling and exhaling as the air around him prickled with a sort of static electricity. His hair almost seemed to levitate around him as he stood there, allowing his power to flow through him. It was going to take some getting used to, but he was up to the challenge. He just needed to maintain control.
"There are worse things than death in store for you. I had originally planned to collect you. To merely possess you. But perhaps now I shall harvest you instead."
V opened his eyes slowly and deliberately, his once green pupils now as white as his hair. They glowed brightly, a strange sort of power radiating off of him as he stood firmly in place, barely affected and completely unswayed by his opponent's idle threats. He had known all of these things before he had stepped foot down here. That was the reality he had been running from all this time. But there was no running anymore. Not from here. Not from him.
It was almost as though he was seeing for the first time, things previously unable to be defined clearly to him now in ways that he could only imagine previously. It was like viewing the entire world in black and white and then seeing color for the first time. And although he was the first to admit that he did not fully understand how to control his newfound power, he was also dedicated to doing everything that he possibly could to destroy Belial once and for all and to see to it that no harm came to his family.
"And I watered it in fears, night and morning with my tears: and I sunned it with smiles, and with soft deceitful wiles. And it grew both day and night. Till it bore an apple bright." V said clearly but softly to itself as they approached Belial, blades drawn and ready to do battle against him. He would run from this threat no longer. The Devil Prince would no longer endanger him or anyone else. His reign of terror would end here and now. He felt Griffon and Shadow at his back as they strode forward, all of them as ready as they would ever be to end this. They kept their guard up, expecting something to go amiss, but unsure as to what it could be. And none of them dared doubt the might of who they were facing. There was no way he would back down this easily; that he would die without a proper battle. And they were here to give him one. "And my foe beheld it shine, and he knew that it was mine. And into my garden stole, when the night had veild the pole; in the morning glad I see; My foe outstretched beneath the tree."
Belial chuckled wetly, his colossal head rippling as he began to genuinely choke, more of the black viscous liquid spraying in all directions. They stopped dead in their tracks, unwilling to get within spitting range. Who was to say that it would not be poison or something equally toxic? They could not take that chance. He continued to sputter for several more seconds, his heaving breaths growing more and more forceful as he clearly struggled to breathe. But as the liquid from within him reached the floor that he lay upon, his head almost seemed to deflate, to some degree indicating that he very well might be losing some of his internal volume.
Stepping back to avoid the growing pile of black sludge, each of them looked at one another in turn, clearly unsure as to what was going on. Vergil stepped between Nero and V, his arms held out slightly in front of both of them as he grasped Yamato, unwilling to allow harm to come to either of them. It was not that he didn't think that they could step back safely so much as it was his overwhelming desire to see no harm come to them. He had done battle against Belial before, and whatever this was was completely new to him.
Moments later, the head deflated entirely, devolving into nothing more than a pile of black sludge on the floor that cascaded towards them, forcing them all to sidestep it in order to not be coated in the thick, tar-like substance. Dante stepped back and drew Ebony and Ivory, pointing his twin pistols at the ground in anticipation of an ambush, glancing over at V as he did so to make sure that he wasn't in harm's way. He was prepared to pull him back without a second's pause. Vergil held Yamato steady in much the same way, his hand on the hilt, ready to draw. He stole a glance over at Nero, making a mental note of his location before turning his attention to V. Belial would have to go through him before he got to either of his sons. At least if he had anything to say about it. He was sure that they would be the primary targets.
Nero jumped upward, using his wings to dash sideways and over the liquid, landing behind Dante a moment later. The demon slayer in the red coat glanced at him over his shoulder and knotted, glad to see that he hadn't come into contact with it. He'd been on the other side of Vergil, and as such, attempting to grab him and pull him out of the way would have required him to reach around both of his other relatives and probably step into the black viscous liquid himself. Not the best plan, but one he would have gone with if nothing else had presented itself without hesitation.
While they surveyed their ever-changing environment, suddenly the room began to shake. The ground in front of them where the black liquid began to bubble, almost as though unseen air beneath it was forcing it upward. It then progressed into a rolling boil, splattering all around until it condensed in the middle of the room, dark energy cascading off of the mound of what appeared to be pulpy black flesh in the center. The mass of unsightly flesh pulsated in a manner that was as unpleasant to view as it was to consider before elongating and stretching towards the ceiling, not touching it but seemingly attempting to do so. It then split open, black blood spilling on the ground around it. And to their combined horror, laughter erupted from seemingly nowhere and filled the room around them.
Each of them gazed at the pillar of flesh, all of them seemingly considering attacking now instead of waiting to see what was going to come out of that mound of it. The outer layer peeled away and what appeared to be a foot stepped out of the darkness within it, the entire being that stood before them covered in so much black, dripping slime that it made it almost impossible to clearly make out its form. But moments later, the black goop that covered it melted away and into the floor, resulting in nothing but an astoundingly disgusting pile of what almost seemed to be rotten flesh that produced a smell so vile that it threatened to turn even the strongest of stomachs and send their contents spilling onto the floor. And as they all stared on in disgusted shock, one thing was silently apparent to all of them.
The being that stood before them was unlike anything any of them had ever seen.
From the top of his head to the soles of his feet he stood at least 7 and a half feet tall, the large pointed tendrils that came out of his lower back adding to his mass but not his height. They hung idly in the air; a threat. Eight of them, of course. In the vague shape of spider legs. And as he levitated there in the air, his arm stretched out on either side of him as the void that he inhabited almost seemed to breathe, the ceiling above them rippled and parted, clearly struggling to hold itself together. He opened his mouth and grinned, countless rows of needle-like teeth that extended his jaw further than it should have extended interlocking and going back as nearly as far as the eye could see, seemingly continuing down his throat until the point where the eyes began. They started at the point where the uvula would be on a human, and continued down his throat, seeing nothing, but still present.
The five eyes that had encompassed the majority of his head previously still existed, and the entirety of his form still rippled like poisoned water, blacker than the darkest night and deeper than the depths of the most uncharted seas. A set of what could only be described as bat ears pointed upward and off of the top of his throat, wrapping around until they nearly touched at the tips on the top of his head. A crown of twisted, counterclockwise pointing horns adorning the top of his head and making his stature appear to be even taller than it already was. His bones flexed as he took multiple slow breaths, several rows of what appeared to be armored spikes cascading down his back below his tendrils in a sort of cape that glistened in the darkness, hues of what almost appeared to be liquid mercury clinging to them. And from behind this cloak at the crest of his upper back came a set of previously folded black feathered wings, the tips of which contained sharp, metallic tipped feathers that looked as though they would do serious damage if they came into contact with the body of his opponent. Each time that they moved, a sort of black dust filtered off of them and into the air, almost as though they were formed of ash. A tail at least as long as he was tall curled around him, silver adornment similar to the feathers that he possessed trailing down the center of the tail in a neat row that ended with a double-pronged tail, the tip of which looked as though it could rip clean through your body and sever your spine with one blow. Definitely something to be avoided at all costs.
On each of his fingers were sharp talons, thin as needles and as long as pencils, making his already too-long fingers seem even more unnatural. His arms were slightly longer than they had any right to be, his fingertips easily passing his knees before the nails were even taken into account. And in his left hand, he held a blade, something clearly toxic dripping from its edge like blood. Holes perforated the blade in a manner that gave it a sort of sickly appearance reminiscent of that of a bone missing much of its internal cartilage. He allowed it to drag behind him, the blade half as long as his body as he left ripples in the water with it, his feet touching the liquid floor again as he continued to slowly stock towards them in a manner far too elegant to match a form so horrific.
This was Belial's true form, no illusions or mimicry remaining. He would either destroy them now or be destroyed himself, and he would show them no mercy.
"Count yourself lucky. That wretched red-haired sycophant dealt me a mortal blow. He nearly destroyed my corporeal flesh, and while I was recovering you made the mistake of blundering into my layer. As such, you have been granted the privilege of beholding my true form, something that only a single other living being has been fortunate enough to witness" He said as he approached them, his blade still dragging in the black liquid as he stepped forward, his taloned feet matching that of his hands. He curled his toes as he came to a stop, looking down at the floor for a moment before looking up and gazing directly into V's emerald green eyes. And to his utter dissatisfaction, he saw no fear. "Bask in its glory for it is the last thing you shall ever see."
There was something so uncanny about hearing what was even remotely a human-sounding voice come out of something so foul. That alone was enough to send shivers up their spines as they readied their weapons, taking a fighting stance. There would be no punches pulled in this battle. They would either live or die by the choices they made here, and none of them planned on going home and pieces.
Dante shook his head, seemingly bewildered by the entire situation. He chuckled lightly to himself under his breath, clearly at a loss as to what he could say about this creature. There was no denying that he was most certainly not your average demon. It was like looking at an amalgamation of every undesirable trait that every demon had ever possessed all put into one creature. It was actually impressive how disgusting he was.
"Now this is going to be a fight! You know, I've seen some ugly demons in my time, but this right here takes the cake." Dante put his guns back into their holsters and drew his blade, the Devil Sword Dante gleaming and eager to draw his enemy's blood. "And I think I told Arkham that he looked like a backed-up toilet… looks like I should have waited a few decades. I don't even know what to say. This is just-"
"That's possible?" Vergil said dryly, his tone carrying a level of sarcastic dismissal that was enough and of itself to cause Dante to stare at him blankly before cackling. He hadn't expected his twin to even attempt to make light of anything at the moment. The stern, hyper-focused look on his face was enough to tell him that he was attempting to read his opponent's next move, and he didn't seem to be having any measure of success. He continued to laugh to hide his dismay at that realization.
One glance over at Nero was all it took to see that he was not alone in the sentiment. His young nephew shook his head in other disgust, clearly revolted by what he was looking at. He pinched his nose slightly, releasing a moment later before shaking his head. He then took Red Queen off of his back and stuck her into the ground in front of him, revving the handle. Red hot flames shot out of the blade as it reached its highest level of Exceed, small specks of white flame entangling with the rest. He was going to scorch this demon alive, and it wasn't a damn thing that could stop him.
"Ya know, I'm with Dante. Just what the fuck? You were ugly enough as you were, but then you go and do this bullshit? I just don't get it."
Belial turned his attention to Nero, his head tilting slowly while none of the rest of his body moved at all. His facial expression didn't change, but it was evident that he took great offense to Nero's comment. In the blink of an eye he had launched himself across the large space between them and towards the young demon hunter, the ripples of black liquid under his feet having to catch up with his movements as he slashed a trail through the floor, Nero only managing to attempt to block the strike at the last second, his eyes and brain having a slight delay between processing and reacting. Both Dante and Vergil immediately launched to his defense, but all three of them came up short.
Mere seconds before Belial could touch Nero, he was struck in the chest by a wave of dark energy, knocking him back several feet, but not enough to actually send him toppling over. It was like black lightning, except that it didn’t electrocute him. The demon Prince looked up, his facial expression (If you could even say he really had one, to begin with) unchanged but his demeanor revealing the simple truth that he was somewhat startled. The last thing that he had expected was to be struck in such a sudden and severe manner. But the thing he expected the very least was who had done it.
Turning to see the source of the attack, both Dante and Vergil were only slightly surprised to see that it was, in fact, V. They had since the shift in the atmosphere around him mere milliseconds before he had attacked, neither of them being able to guess precisely what it was that he was going to do. It seemed that none of them were willing to allow Nero to come to harm, but the manner in which he had attacked had genuinely surprised both twins. To say that either of them had expected him to launch a beam of black energy at the Devil Prince would be a total lie. In fact, it was probably the thing that they expected him to do the least.
V's entire body tingled, the power coursing through every inch of his body like the very blood that pumped through his veins. It was taking him a moment to adjust to this much energy, his breathing ever so slightly labored, and his eyesight just a touch blurrier than normal. He wasn't exactly uncomfortable, but he was most certainly distressed. V wasn't entirely sure that he had full control over what he was doing at this point, but that wasn't going to stop him from trying either way. And the last thing he was going to do was stand there and allow the Demon Prince to harm any of them. Still, when he had raised his hand out in front of him, He hadn't exactly expected to discharge a small beam of black, almost electric-like energy towards his opponent. It was like dark plasma, malleable but chaotic. From what he could tell, he was drawing from the very energy in this place, and Belial seemed to be less than pleased by that realization. It seemed that they were going to be on more equal footing than he was used to.
Glancing over at his two young nephews, Dante took a moment to be silently grateful for the fact that V was capable of reacting that quickly. It seemed that Nero would have gotten his blade up in time, but as to whether or not it could have withstood that kind of strike, well… He wasn't really sure that he wanted to know. Nero was quite a bit stronger than he looked, something that he was fully aware of and had been since the moment that they had met. But Belial was a different sort of strong. He seemed almost infallible. This was going to be one hell of a fight.
Letting out a howl, Belial charged forward, his claws swiping through the air as he barely missed Vergil's throat, the devil hunter withdrawing Yamato at lightning speed and swinging it towards his neck. The devil Prince caught the blade in his hand but couldn't keep a grip on it, the dark slayer ripping it from his grip and causing black blood to drip down the length of his sword. He flicked it behind him, using the sheath to bat at the demon as he internally cursed himself for creating an opening like that. But he'd had no other choice. The scent of Belial's blood alone had been enough to tell him something that he hadn't realized until now. Something that made him thoroughly grateful that he was part devil himself. Otherwise, he would not have noticed until it was too late.
"Mind the blood. I believe it may be toxic." Vergil said calmly, his eyes not leaving his target. He wasn't sure what this would mean for them going forward, but it was something to keep in mind at the very least.
Nero launched forward at a blinding speed, a spray of red flame enveloping him as he swung at Belial, the devil Prince managing at the very last moment to block him with his own blade. He barely staggered, but Nero was undeterred, pulling his blade back and revving it before delivering an upward slash that forced the devil Prince to leap backward and away from him, swinging his tail in an attempt to keep him from pursuing. The young devil hunter did not relent, using his blade to block the strike before dodging to the left and countering, only being forced to halt as momentum when Belial delivered a kick to his chest that sent him rolling backward across the room. It was the sort of impact that would have shattered a normal human's ribs, but simply knocked the wind out of Nero, much to the chagrin of his opponent. Still, he wasn't sure how effective the attack had been despite quite a bit of effort on his own part. Perhaps this would give one of the other members of his family an opportunity to strike? He hadn't expected it to be that easy. Far from it. But it was worth a try nonetheless. He was going to have to come up with a different strategy, and that was never easy to do in the heat of battle. But this wasn't going to be a normal fight anyway, so that was to be expected. He would just have to deal with it.
Racing past his youngest son, Vergil charged at Belial head-on, the devil Prince keeping his eyes locked on him as he readied his tail for another strike. He kept his sword in front of him, seemingly anticipating needing to block. But just as their blades were going to make contact, Vergil teleported behind Belial and swung downwards from above, spiraling into a heavy slash that would have left a gouge in the ground should it not have been composed entirely of liquid. Belial seemed to take notice of this at the very last moment, his blade pivoting to meet Vergil's strike. The Devil Prince blocked his opponent's oncoming attack, but Vergil doubled down, jumping back and unleashing a horizontal shockwave of blue energy that caused the prince to leap into the air and spread his black wings, launching downward in an attempt to impale him. But before his blade could reach him, something grabbed him from behind.
It was Nero.
Emboldened by the pace of the fight, the young devil hunter had entered his double trigger form and jumped up into the air after him, cyan feathers filling the air as he dashed over to intercept him. They were both capable of flight, after all. It wasn't too much of an issue to reach him. The hardest part had simply been the speed with which he moved, an obstacle that Nero had been able to circumvent by simply waiting for his attention to be elsewhere. He snatched Belial by the back of the neck, his clawed hands digging into his flesh as he threw him hard against the ground, the seemingly startled demon slamming into the ground with backbreaking force. The water splashed around them as Dante raced towards them, sure that the battle wasn't over but ready to deliver a finishing blow should he need to. But before any of them could reach their opponent, Nero fired off a dual charge shot from his gun, the bullets hitting their mark. He then landed just as the rounds detonated, causing a large explosion that lit up the inky blackness around them. He then doubled back towards his father and brother, Dante on the far side of the space between them, his guns both at the ready. He didn't trust this, not for a second.
"Two can play that game, asshole." The young Devil Hunter said calmly, putting his gun away and withdrawing his blade from his back. A more optimistic devil hunter might assume that Belial was dead, but Nero hadn't lived this long by being stupid. He knew for a fact that that creature still had plenty of fight in him. He was simply taking advantage of the smoke clearing for a moment to plan what he would do next.
With Griffin and Shadow at his back, V looked on quietly, his body having slowly reached a point of equilibrium during the course of the fight. It hadn't entirely balanced out, but he felt slightly more at ease now than he had a few minutes ago. It was almost as though using his powers alleviated the burden a small bit. Perhaps it was something like a battery that had been overcharged? He wasn't entirely sure, but what he did know was that he needed to stay vigilant. You never knew when-
Seconds later, Belial suddenly jumped up and raced forward, this time with a different target in mind. He went straight for Dante's throat, forcing the devil hunter in red to backpedal before slashing upward with his blade, nearly catching the underside of the Devil Prince's throat. Infuriated, Belial screeched in frustration, charging forward again as he slashed at the demon hunter with his long, needle-like claws, his blade sweeping horizontally towards Dante's head. He ducked the swipe and stabbed forward, causing the devil prince to jump backward again. But this time instead of charging forward again, he evaporated into a black mist before repositioning himself to the right side of Dante, bringing his blade down towards his back. With his opponent on his swinging side, the devil hunter pivoted to block him only to find him no longer there. He'd side-stepped him and was now to the left of him, the youngest Son of Sparda's back fully exposed to his attack.
Unable to rotate to meet his stab in time, Dante was surprised when a moment later, Vergil came to his defense, the Darkslayer deflecting his strike with the flat edge of Yamato. He slid backward slightly but managed to stay upright in spite of the force of the strike, his stance off-center but serviceable. Dante nodded in quiet appreciation as his older twin unleashed a volley of strikes and attacks onto their opponent, his speed growing with each strike until Belial seemed to visibly struggle to repel them with only the length of the blade keeping him from being carved like the trunk of a rotting tree. He back-stepped across the arena until he seemed to come to the end of the area that he was willing to traverse. And then he slammed down with his blade hard, causing Vergil to buckle but not fall. Snarling, Belial pressed downward with his blade harder, the eldest of Sparda's twin sons placing his palm on the flat edge of his own blade in order to keep it from flexing beyond his comfort zone. The Devil Prince was physically stronger than he looked, no doubt about it. And he didn't exactly look weak to start with. But as Dante fired off several rounds from the other side of the arena as he approached, Vergil grew tired of his enemy's games and pressed upward with the vast majority of his upper body strength, his eyes growing dim before glowing bright blue, his body transforming and unleashing a shockwave that seemed to stagger his opponent. Still, he did not relinquish his hold on him. If it were up to Belial, Vergil would die here and now. But fortunately, it wasn't.
Forcing himself to stand up under the brunt of Belial's evergrowing attack, Vergil was enveloped in blue flames as his devil half slipped through the cracks and made itself known, the blue light that his flames produced as vibrant as they were hot. He then drew back his blade and readied it for an attack, Yamato now coated in the same blue fire. He slashed in a criss-cross in front of him, Belial barely managing to block blow after blow until Vergil slashed quickly to the right before drawing back and slashing downward in one fell swoop, the blade rebounding off of his enemy's blade as sparks flew and the Demon Prince recoiled, nearly losing his grip on his sword and almost entirely losing his footing for a split second. Belial then countered, whipping his tail around to try and peirce Vergil from behind. Fortunately, the Darkslayer anticipated this, noting his opponent's particular predilection for underhanded tactics. He leaped upward as the tail missed him, tucking his legs inward as he unleashed a heavy diagonal sweeping attack down on his opponent from mid-air.
Dante rushed into the fray with a roar as he unleashed the might of his own devil side, red flames encompassing his entire body as he drew his blade and slammed it down towards Belial's head, the sword only missing one of his horns by a few millimeters. He then rallied, rotating his body in the direction of his opponent before unleashing a heavy vertical shockwave that made contact at the exact moment that Vergil's aerial attack did. And for a moment, everything was quiet as the plumes of smoke that had resulted from their overcharged attacks settled, both Nero and V rushing over after having been momentarily waylaid by an uncertainty as to what they could do to help. The last thing that either of them wanted to do was get in the way and mess things up or get caught in the crossfire, but with no way of communicating without their opponent being able to hear them, falling back had been the best thing that they could have done.
But as they approached, the Devil Prince let out an ear-shattering roar that stopped them dead in their tracks before a cloud of what seemed to be black smoke erupted from him and the black tendrils on his back hardened into spikes, stabbing out all around him in every direction. Both Nero and V jumped back as they were nearly caught in the fray, both Griffon and Shadow not being so lucky. They were both instantaneously stalemated, retiring to their orbs as they were knocked back several yards in either direction along with Dante and Vergil, both of whom were ejected from their devil triggers as a result. The impact had been akin to that of being hit in the chest with a wrecking ball, and it was perhaps only by virtue of their sin devil triggers that neither of them were instantly killed. Fortunately indeed that he'd hit them both when he had considered that they had very nearly depleted the concentrated demonic power required to maintain them.
Nero and V watched in startled horror as both of the older devil hunters were knocked clean of the immediate vicinity, tumbling and rolling to a stop on the ground and seemingly stunned, neither of them able to get up right away. The air had been knocked out of them, and Vergil especially coughed in obvious discomfort, at least by his standards. He attempted to clamber to his feet but was immediately stopped by Belial, the Devil Prince gliding over to him and kicking him in the chest, sending him tumbling to the floor again and onto his back. He gagged heavily, but as Belial raised his blade to impale him, he managed to grab the blade with his hands to keep it from plunging into his chest, the jagged, serrated, liquid-coated sword easily cutting through the leather of his gloves and drawing blood. The Darkslayer hissed as he began to lose his grip, aware of the fact that he faced the impossible choice between probably losing at least one hand or being stabbed and silently realizing that he lacked the leverage to push him away.
V glanced rapidly between Vergil and Dante. Their uncle wouldn't be able to get up in time. That much was clear just from the fact that he was only barely managing to pull himself to his feet. And a cursory glance at Nero revealed that he would more than likely rush over there without a second thought in a moment's time if someone else did not. And that was to say nothing of the fact that their father clearly couldn't get out of this situation on his own. He needed help, or he was going to die.
Without a second thought, V took a deep breath and teleported behind Belial, plunging his cane downward into the Demon Prince's shoulder without any build or forewarning. Belial responded by screeching and turning to grab V by the throat with his free hand, his long taloned claws nearly piercing his throat in the process. Reflexively, V reached up and grabbed his attacker's hands as the Devil Prince turned his full attention to the younger devil hunter, standing up and holding V up off of the ground with one hand as he continued to grip his blade in his dominant hand, V's cane still lodged in his shoulder.
"Did you actually think that would be enough to kill me?" Belial asked almost too casually, the black, iridescent blood that ran from his wounded shoulder seemingly not a factor to him in the slightest. He looked V in the face almost as though he was examining an especially juicy apple at the farmer's market or a choice cut of meat at a butcher shop. He didn't exactly lick his lips, but there was a certain thirsty glimmer to his eyes that was admittedly extremely unnerving.
Unable to do anything other than struggle given the current circumstances, V caught sight of Nero, the younger hunter clearly up to something in the foreground. Hoping not to draw too much attention to this, he kept his eyes centered on Belial, hoping to give him an opportunity to get the drop on him. He knew that the odds of that happening twice in such rapid succession were exceedingly low, but it was worth a shot. He wasn’t any less dead regardless. “My plans very rarely go as expected. You may ask Griffon once he regenerates.”
Belial sneered, glancing to his side to look at the sphere of energy that had previously been Griffon. V knew that it was probably best that he recall his companions once they reformed. There was little that they could do against an opponent of this nature. But as this thought lingered in his head, Belial gripped his neck ever so slightly harder, the blood rushing to his head as he felt his arteries compress. And then his skin began to burn as the residual lines that formed the outlines of the markings with which he controlled his familiars almost seemed to dissolve. The darkness that resulted from Belial’s curse on him writhe viciously as he began to hyperventilate, the potent mix of heat and cold that encompassed the inside and outside of his body quickly becoming too much to tolerate. He could feel his grip on consciousness begin to slip much the same as he could feel his attachment to both of his remaining familiars wayne. It was a terrifying sensation, to say the least, but he was nearly certain that he could do nothing to stop it from happening. He wasn’t sure what else he could do other than kick and attempt to break free.
Luckily, just a second later, Nero slammed into the back of Belial, slicing him down the back as his heated blade cut clean through him, taking several of the tendrils that had sprouted out of his back out along the way. The Devil prince roared before pivoting to face Nero, his grip on V loosening but not entirely relinquishing. V’s feet touched the ground again as he gasped for breath, his eyes darting over to Griffon and Shadow again as they managed to reform and he called them back to his side, noting the overwhelming sensation of physical pain that this normally harmless endeavor caused him. Belial released him a moment later to turn his attention back to his current opponent leaving V to slump over and panic, his breath rapid and his head spinning. But after a few moments of overwhelming sensory overload, V managed to regain clarity.
Just in time to catch sight of Belial stabbing Nero in the shoulder with his double-pronged tail.
The Devil Prince cackled as Nero yelped, his tail lifting him up off of the ground by the front of his left shoulder as his tail looped around from behind him and stabbed him, twisted him before slamming him back first into the ground. The youngest member of the group cried out in obvious pain as he made contact with the ground mere seconds later, his arm luckily still attached to his body, but his rotator cuff was badly damaged. The injury sprayed blood in seemingly every direction before he made impact with the ground, the young devil hunter totally blindsided by the attack and largely unable to recover from it at the speed that he knew he needed to be able to. But the searing pain was simply too great to instantaneously overcome. Belial then stepped closer to Nero, his blade drawn and his eyes focused on Nero in a manner that made his intentions clear. And as both Dante and Vergil raced over towards the Devil Prince to stop him, he unleashed a shockwave that blasted them backwards across the arena, tossing them like limp toys and staggering V in the process. He rolled several feet, but because of the fact that he was slightly further from Belial in the first place, he wasn’t knocked quite as far back, giving him more time to recover.
Realizing what would happen to Nero if he didn’t get up off of the floor right that second and intervene, V lurched forward and called his cane back to his hand, ripping it out of the back of the Devil Prince’s shoulder. The creature snarled in discomfort, pivoting to make eye contact just in time for the reflection of a volley of black energy to hit him dead in the chest as V held both hands out in front of himself and used his cane as a conduit to conduct the energy, aiming it directly towards his upper body. The young summoner’s white hair wafted in the statically charged air around him, blowing backward from the force of the discharge. And despite the fact that he was somewhat aware of the fact that he was probably misusing his powers to some degree, he wasn’t sure what else he could do. There was nothing in this place that he could use to-
But wait, there was.
Quickly kneeling down and placing his hands into the murky depths below him, V attempted to reach out and feel something. He wasn’t sure what that something was perse, but he had sensed something in this place previously. Something that resonated with him. He closed his eyes and allowed his hands to delve deeper into the depths until he was elbow deep. And then he found what he was searching for. It wasn’t the water that he was grasping onto. It was the darkness within it. He could manipulate that force. It was malleable in his grasp. And he could weld that against his opponent. After all, it was the same darkness that he had felt coarse through him; the same substance that the beams of energy he had just unleashed were composed of. Only in this way it was much more sustainable. He had to exert himself less. He felt less… drained. Depleted.
Pulling the depths of the floor underneath both of them upward, spikes of sharp darkness shot up and out of the liquid; shadows. His eyes began to glow that same bright white again, his white hair blowing back behind him as his coat spiraled around him almost as though he were caught in the wind. The shards of darkness flew out from in front and behind him, surrounding him in a barrier of dark spiraling spikes that barreled towards Belial at blinding speed, seemingly tracking his path towards the young part devil. They wound and wove around him, stabbing from every possible direction possible while still being rooted in the floor as Belial stalked towards him, his agility unfortunately not lacking in the slightest. He expertly dodged the attack, charging forward towards his target with the sort of single-minded focus that would make a hunting dog blush.
But just as he was about to reach him, something took him entirely off guard. A row of black spines shot up out of the ground in front of him, forcing him to have to deviate slightly by taking to the air and attempting to jump over it. And by doing so he ran right into a masterfully sprung trap on V’s part as two spikes harpooned him from behind, piercing both of his wings and snatching him to the ground with a resounding splatter. Belial screamed in obvious agony as holes were torn in both of his wings, feathers flying everywhere as he attempted to pull free. And as he did so, V raced towards him, running up and leaping over one of his own black spikes as he bared down on him, a volley of purple summoned canes and black shards falling in unison with him as he landed with a slam that sent black spikes spiraling out in every direction, almost like a sort of black, spiky flower composed purely of thorns. The liquid sprayed everywhere as he embedded his cane into his enemy’s chest, attempting to finish him off at that very instant, his overwhelming attack hopefully enough to stop things before they got any worse.
Vergil pulled himself to his feet as both he and Dante recovered from being flung across the room like mistreated dolls, the both of them racing towards the epicenter of the battle. They knew that both of the younger hunters required their attention, and the fact that Belial had spent so much time doing his level best to keep them at arm's length was evidence in of itself that he didn’t seem to be able to deal with all of them at once. And as they approached from opposite ends of the space, Nero slowly pulled himself to his feet, unsteady and grimacing, pained exhaustion a fixture upon his face as he held his injured shoulder. This entire situation was far from ideal, but his shoulder was especially troubling.
Taking note of the condition his youngest son’s arm was currently in, Vergil made his way over to him, glancing in the general direction of his eldest. He could not make him out from this angle, but he knew that he was there and he could sense that he was more or less alright. But everything had become too quiet. He didn’t trust this. Not for a second.
“Shit. Whole lot of help I was, hu?” Nero said through gritted teeth, his illusion of punkish indifference wavering in the face of such wince-inducing discomfort. If he so much as breathed too hard it hurt. How were those nerve endings even connected to one another?! “But hey, that shit that V just did? Unreal. Never would’ve guessed that he was keeping all that packed down in him somewhere.”
Looking him over and silently assessing his condition, Vergil couldn't help but feel some level of remorse for the condition that his youngest son was currently in. If he had just made it over in time, this would never have happened to him. And V would not have been forced to jump into the fray as he had, what with him being the least armed out of the group and all. He was a capable warrior in his own right, but as their very recent battle against Exalta had proven before they had utterly destroyed her, situations where he was put up against a durable, hard-hitting, and agile opponent did not bode well for him. But in spite of that, he had more than pulled his weight in this situation. In fact, he had excelled, much in the same way that Nero had during the brief moment where he had nearly given his life to save his brother. Vergil was impressed. And more than that, he was actually quite proud of how they had managed to pull through that situation on their own without their intervention. It was somewhat relieving to know that despite how outmatched they were, they had still approached the situation with a level head and an overwhelming show of force that had nearly spelled the end of the powerful demon prince.
“I am willing to disagree, and I am under the assumption that your brother would agree with me. You both nearly perished coming to one another’s aid. He will not forget that.” Vergil said calmly, his eyes drifting towards Dante as he approached the mound of black spikes in the center of the space. V had just stumbled out of them. Quite literally, in fact. And he looked utterly drained. Still, he had managed to stay on his feet, and the black blood dripping off of his cane seemed to be evidence of a successful attack. But the look on his face was enough to reassure him that his eldest son had not found the success that he was searching for. And he seemed to be on high alert.
“V! Everything good over there?” Dante asked, stepping slightly to the side as he peered over into the mound of spikes that his nephew had just exited. To his slight confusion, there did not seem to be anything there besides blood, and he didn’t need to ask where he’d gone. He knew that V was already probably working on that. A quick glance over at Nero was all it took for him to know that his younger nephew had just been put through the wringer, but he had pulled through nonetheless. Nero had come a long way since the first time he’d watched him fight on the rooftops of the backroads of Fortuna’s busy streets. He was nothing if not dependable, and loyal to a fault. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Unlikely,” V said as he stumbled over, the white glow that had once been in his eyes fading as he came to a stop. It was clear that he was still having trouble regulating the flow of his power, something that was to be expected considering how inexperienced he was. The young summoner looked worn out but not down for the count, but it was still apparent that didn’t have too many more attacks like that in him. Perhaps one, maybe two if he really pushed himself at best. He hoped that it would not come to that. Total depletion was genuinely exhausting. “Despite my best efforts, he has actually vanished, and I am struggling to keep track of his movements. I believe my focus is wavering-”
Mid-sentence, without any particular reason or warning, V was suddenly snatched off of his feet by his throat as Belial erupted from out of the ground beneath him like a geyser becoming active for the first time. The devil prince pulled him up into the air and out of the immediate reach of his family, seemingly enthralled by the way he choked and sputtered in shock. It seemed that despite the heavily damaged state of his wings that he still maintained the ability to become airborne. Perhaps he could simply levitate? It would make sense. V had barely seen him move them, to begin with. But none of that mattered in the slightest to him now, not as Belial stuck his long, forked tongue out of his mouth and licked the tops of his, his long, entirely too jagged and needle-like teeth from corner to corner, the physical configuration of his jaw still deeply unsettling to him but now even more so this close up. There seemed to be an almost euphoric revelry to his demeanor, indicating that to some degree he was going to find immense pleasure in what he was about to do to the young summoner, regardless of what that might be. Perhaps too much pleasure in honest actuality. It was severely disturbing to witness.
Struggling to get free, V gripped both of Belial’s arms, the almost otherworldly cold slimy texture that his skin possessed reminding him more of something like an eel or a stingray than a warm-blooded devil. It was as disgusting as it was difficult to grip, but he did his very best to get a handle on him before pulling his legs in and kicking him as hard as he could possibly manage in the chest with both feet, the resounding thud that the action produced accompanied shortly after by a pained snarl from the Devil Prince as he leered at him and gripped his throat harder, obviously livid at the fact that V had not only done that but was planning to do it again in just a moment.
Aware of the futility of his own actions but unwilling to stand idly by and do nothing as he watched his master struggle fruitlessly in the grip of this monster, Griffon materialized, causing V’s skin to burn as he swooped down and dropped Shadow onto the Demon Prince’s back, the demonic panther sinking her long incisors into his back and nearly ripping one of his wings lose in the process. The sounds of crunching bone echoed through the entire chamber as her target roared before attempting to reach back and grab her. As he did so, Griffon sank both of his taloned feet into the sides of the demon’s neck, puncturing his arteries and causing blood to spray out on either side of him, running down his body like an overflowing fountain. And as he struggled to stay aloft, V panted in obvious agony, the searing pain that filled his body every single second that they stayed active utterly overwhelming. He wasn’t sure what the Devil Prince had done to him when he had touched him previously, but he could no longer maintain this and he was forced to concede defeat and recall his diligent summons before he lost consciousness for the pain alone. He appreciated their critical timing and their desire to protect him at all costs, but he couldn’t offer them the support that they needed right now.
But just as he did so, he felt that burning intensify, the sensation that had felt the first time that the demon prince had touched him overtaking him. He could feel his skin threatening to tear, a sensation that he was all too familiar with from his time crumbling away to nothing more than ash and dust within the confines of the Qliphoth. And then the heat became cold. A stomach emptying cold that made his muscled cramp and his head swim. This was what death felt like. And he couldn't let that happen. Not again. This would not be how he died, and Belial would not be the one to end him. He had not come this far to be defeated by such a cheap trick.
V’s eyes began to glow, his usual lovely light green becoming an almost seafoam shade as he slowly transformed into his demonic form. Black and gray iridescent scales covered his entire body from head to toe as his hair turned jet black with only the underside remaining the same vibrant white that it originally had been. A set of shot, back pointing horns protruded from the top of his head as a secondary lower set pointed forward just under his ears, two small spines protruding from the underside of his jaw. As the scales flowed downward, seams of the same seafoam green that could be seen in his eyes decorated his skin, pulsating in slow waves as he quite literally radiated demonic power. And in much the same way, his formerly dark tattoos became an intricate patchwork of black marking that covered the entirety of his upper body, his fangs descending. And as the scales made their way down his arms and legs, small spikes protruded from the backs of his elbows and his knees, easily sharp enough to do damage if they came into contact with the skin of his opponent. And at the tips of his fingers and toes sprouted thin, needle-like claws that were somewhat similar to Belial’s own, the digits extending by double as a result. And as this transformation completed, V looked up at Belial slowly, his intentions obviously clear.
He was going to tear him to shreds.
Gripping him tightly, he sunk his claws into the Devil Prince’s wrists, cutting through his moist, slimy skin with unmitigated ease. V then wrenched himself loose from his enemy’s grip, his talons shredding the skin as he pulled away from him. Jumping back and through the air in the opposite direction, he could feel his heart pounding away in his chest, but he couldn’t feel the fatigue he normally associated with it, his breaths rapid and shallow but steady nonetheless. He charged his cane with enough demonic power to cause it to glow, the seafoam glow contrasted by the dark pulsation that encapsulated it momentarily before he looked over at his enemy and dared to make eye contact with him. And then he drew back and threw his cane at the Devil Prince, impaling him directly through the center of his chest before recalling it to his hand and slamming him in the chest with a barrage of sharp black energy particles, courtesy of his new wings. He’d never noticed that he’d possessed them the first time that he’d triggered, but there was no missing it now that he was literally using them to stay afloat.
Belial snarled in apparent rage, a wet cough bursting forward and echoing through the chamber around them. He struggled forward, diving towards V in an attempt to claw him with his taloned fingers, the young summoner ducking under a swipe from his blade and then blocking another with the side of his cane. He then kicked his attacker in the chest with his right foot, sending him staggering backward before delivering a blow to the top of his head with his cane that cracked one of the sections of Belial’s horned crown, sending it falling to the floor below. A roar echoed forward as blood ran down the demon’s face, his claws managing to catch V in the shoulder before he pulled free and away from him again, teleporting sideways in an attempt to avoid him. V wasn’t sure that he’d ever felt this much adrenaline coursing through his body all at once before. And if he had, then it had been a very long time. But if he had his way, he would outlast him, and that was seeming more and more likely if he managed to keep this up.
“Yes! This is the power that I’ve been searching for! Give in to me!” Belial shouted, seemingly unphased by V’s total unwillingness to admit defeat and end their battle. Several rounds of gunfire from below them aimed at the devil prince reminded V momentarily of the fact that he was not alone in this battle. He’d been so focused on trying to hold his own that he’d forgotten to consider them.
“I would sooner die.” The young summoner said, his tone more of a growl than anything else as he and Belial clashed again, his enemy’s blade meeting his cane again as sparks flew off of them, V unleashing another barrage of summoned canes as he attempted to keep his pursuer at bay. He had no idea how much longer he could keep this up, but he knew that it wouldn’t be long. Devil Trigger was a finite resource, and this was only the second time that he’d ever used it. He wasn’t sure how expending this much power would affect him.
As Belial batted off the oncoming aerial attack, he suddenly pivoted to the left and dived towards V, his claws outstretched as he threw his tainted blade directly at him, the younger man ducking it just seconds before it could make contact with his body. But as he held his cane up to block him, the blade came back and made direct contact with his back, slicing him across the right shoulder. V cried out as his grip slipped for just a moment, inadvertently giving Belial just enough time to dive down and grab him by the shoulder and, to his horror, nearly touch their faces together as that same wicked, almost lust-filled look overcame him. With both of his shoulders thoroughly in his ironclad grip and his fork pronged tail now touching the back of his neck, he couldn’t afford to move. Not even a millimeter.
He panted heavily as he felt his power slipping away, unsure as to what else he could do. Everything had happened so fast! In the blink of an eye he’d gone from relatively fine to quite literally in the clutches of his enemy, and he wasn’t at all clear on what he should do now. Without being able to move his arms or call his summons, he was going to have to improvise… but he was grasping at straws. Try as he might, he just couldn’t think of anything. And as he stared into the eyes of his would-be murderer, he felt a chill run down his spine as Belial leaned ever closer and ran his forked tongue up the side of his neck before speaking, his words a worse poison than the substance that coated his blade.
“Death is a mercy I will only offer you once your usefulness has run its course.” He said in a manner all too calm before pulling back to look at him slightly, no light in his dark, dim eyes.
And then he sank his fangs into the left side of V’s neck.
To say that the pain he now felt coursing through his body was absolute agony would be an understatement. Every muscle in his entire body seemed to lock up all at once as he went both rigid and totally limp, every color conceivable flashing through his eyes even when he closed them as he struggled to breathe before feeling both of his knees slam into the murky liquid below them. He flashed momentarily between his devil and human forms before finally regressing back to his normal form, his agonized gasps drowning out all other sound and sensation. And for what felt like the first time in a lifetime, he actually felt the urge to scream, his mouth open but his lungs failing to actually make the requisite sound. It seemed that his vocal cords and lungs had both conspired to betray him on this specific occasion.
He slumped over into the water face first, his eyes only barely catching sight of his father’s boots as he rushed towards him, no holds barred. The dull sound of bullets making impact with his enemy only vaguely registered within his mind as he struggled to hold himself together. He felt like his body was being incinerated from the inside out as he rocked back and forth, now coughing and struggling to see what was going on around him. His vision blinked between his own and what appeared to be Belial’s as he barely grasped what was going on. And then, in a moment of unexplainable clarity, V realized what was happening to him. As he looked down into the water in front of himself, blood running from the collection of over three dozen puncture wounds in the side of his now bloody neck and shoulder and dripping in a steady stream out of the corner of his mouth, he understood. Belial was still trying to go through with his plan. He was attempting to overtake him. He still needed him alive. He still planned to possess him. Belial needed his body. And then he would no doubt use him to destroy the rest of them, the young summoner acutely aware of the fact that his family probably wouldn’t be able to bring themselves to destroy him, even to save themselves. Above all else, he couldn’t let it come to that, and he knew that he was perhaps the only one who could stop it. There was only one thing that he could think of, but he had almost been explicitly told not to do it. But still, if it was that or become the puppet of an unhinged Devil Prince, he knew what decision he was going to make.
“Griffon… Are you there?” He asked, even within his mind noticing how weak his connection had become to them. He hoped that if he survived this he could meant this. That he could repair the damage. What a fool he had been to think that he could go somewhere like this and try to take on a task of this magnitude without losing something in the process. He had been so afraid of that very thing that he hadn't been able to acknowledge the possibility. But now? It was perhaps more certain than ever.
“... Just do it, V. If you can pull through it, so can we.” A soft, almost distant voice said as he struggled to maintain coherence, more and more of his enemy seeping into his body and overriding parts of him as he fought with all of his might to keep him at bay. He knew that he didn’t need to respond to his companion and that he understood why he could barely hold a singular thought together in the state that he was in, but a part of him still felt the need to say something even when he knew that it wasn’t required. It was just who he was. He felt that he owed that much to those who remained loyal to him in spite of everything. Even to the bitter end, his familiars were going to stick it out with him. They always had, never leaving him of their own volition not a single time. And he could never repay them for that.
“Thank you.” He said softly within the confines of his own mind, his focus wavering as he opened his eyes and looked down at the ground in front of him, his breathing ragged and an unrelenting pounding sensation dulling every nerve ending in his brain. The pungent taste of copper overwhelmed his taste buds as he tried and failed to find the mental reserves necessary to spit the accumulating blood out of his mouth. To his surprise, he found himself looking down at a familiar set of boots, their owner looking down at him as they shook their head in dismay.
Nero stood over V holding his injured shoulder, blood running down it as he panted heavily. He wasn’t healing as fast as he normally did. Not by a longshot. But he wasn’t sure that this was the time to bring it up to any of them. After all, none of them could do anything about it. But perhaps a warning? It seemed like V wasn’t in any better shape. “You’ve looked better.”
Wishing that he had the energy to laugh or even shake his head in response to that statement, all he could do was smirk slightly before blinking slowly. He was sure that he looked awful. The darkness that had been trying to spread through his entire body up until then had totally and utterly taken over, clinging to every fiber of his being like a malignancy. His breathing was wet and his eyes were watering as everything seemed to fade around him, lulling him into a sleep that he knew Belial was eagerly waiting for.
“... Belial is overtaking me. I have to… do… something. Please understand.” He started tiredly, honestly just glad that he still possessed the faculty to speak. He hoped that Nero would forgive him if this didn’t work in the way that he expected. He knew that the last thing that his beloved younger brother needed was to lose anyone else that he cared about. “Magnolia gave me something. The flower you both found… It’s bioluminescent.”
In truth, Nero had no idea why that would be helpful to them until a long moment of pondering it. And then it occurred to him that Belial supposedly didn’t enjoy the light. That was the reason it was so dark down here, after all. An artificial environment to fit his every whim and desire. It would make a lovely grave. Nero closed his eyes as he watched V reach into his inner coat pocket and withdraw a vial of bright red liquid, the glow it emitted an indicator that it probably wasn’t fit for human consumption. It looked highly toxic. “That’s poison. You don’t have to even tell me that. Are you going to do what I think you're going to do?”
V nodded very slowly, obviously struggling more and more by the moment to communicate with V. Belial was overtaking him at an increasingly rapid pace, and it was clear that he could only outlast him so much longer. He closed his eyes silently as a wave of sorrow overtook him. They shared that moment as well as an understanding as to why he would do something like that to himself. He remembered the words that V had spoken to him the last time he’d seen him this low. All I ever wanted was to be protected and loved. But I had to survive. And now for their sakes, he was willing to give that up. He feared death, but he feared knowing that he’d lost them even more. He knew what it was like now to not be alone, and he’d rather die than feel that way again. And to some degree, he understood that, but it was time that V stopped carrying the pain and suffering of the entire group on his shoulders alone. He could only take so much.
He couldn’t let V do that. Not for him. Not for any of them. “Don’t. We can beat him.”
A small cough came from his older brother as he shivered weakly, a tremor of pain passing over his body as he seemed to genuinely feel sick for a moment, the pain coming and going in waves. He still couldn’t stand, but he wasn’t falling down, either. Not again. Pulling a second vial of what seemed to be a powder from inside of his coat, he extended a shaky arm, handing it to Nero who took it with his free hand, releasing his shoulder just long enough to make sure that he had a strong grip on it. He then tucked it safely into his pocket, unsure as to what it was for just yet but willing to hold judgment until then. “Wait no longer than five minutes. That’s what Magnolia told me. After ten it’s supposedly lethal.”
Nero shook his head and chuckled to himself at how morbid this entire situation was. Sometimes he just couldn’t believe his older sibling. He always had a backup plan, didn’t he? He was nothing if not thorough. But a part of him was surprised that he’d even been able to talk her into giving him poison. He would have loved to see that conversation. That was probably the reason there was an antidote in the first place. She had to believe that he had a chance or she couldn’t hand him the bottle. It was as simple as that. “I’ll keep an eye out. Just hang on, okay?”
V didn’t respond verbally as Nero stepped away to assess how best to rejoin the battle considering his injuries, but he did blink, his now dim green eyes carrying the heavy weight of sleep. He knew that he couldn’t give in, but he also didn’t know how to make himself stand up. But as he struggled to hold himself together, something happened on the other side of the room that shocked him to his core.
In an effort to keep Belial as far away from him as possible and to defeat him before he could fully overtake him warranting the necessity of unfortunate countermeasures, Dante and Vergil had been engaging Belial in two on one combat. Neither of them relented as they delivered blow after blow, the devil prince seemingly blocking them both with an efficiency that neither of them had counted on. Dante of course had never fought him before to begin with, but Vergil was utterly blown away by the fact that the opponent he’d never faced in physical battle could possess such skill and unleash such devastating attacks, especially in quick succession. Despite having one blade, he seemingly more than made up for it with physical attacks that utilized his blade, tail, and claws, the thick digits swiping and slashing at their chests and throats as he twisted and twirled around them with his blade, the three forming a sort of improved dance that was almost as hard to follow with your eyes as it was to participate in. And for most of that fight, both twins kept up with him. But then suddenly as if totally out of the blue, Belial pivoted and slashed his blade at Vergil, causing the elder twin to jump back lest his face be caught in the path.
Unleashing a barrage of slashes that caused a sonic boom to resonate within the space they occupied, Vergil sheathed his blade before whipping it out and rushing forward again. But, unbeknownst to him, that was exactly what the Devil Prince wanted him to do. The moment that he’d stepped back, he’d left an opening, and he planned to exploit it. In an instant, he teleported behind Dante and slashed him up the back with his long black blade. The devil hunter in red inhaled sharply before Belial teleported back in front of him and rammed his claws through his chest, sticking them all the way through him as he lifted him up and physically tossed him across the room, the seemingly shocked devil hunter landing face down in the black water as he attempted to pull himself to his feet only to slump back over again a moment later.
Watching in silent horror, Vergil stopped for a split second, genuinely taken aback as Belial rushed past him and towards Dante, blade out and ready to end him. Nero unloaded several well-placed charge shots into the Devil Prince’s Head and shoulders, but none of them dissuaded their opponent from his goal despite nearly every single one of them finding their mark. Without a second thought, Vergil teleported between their attacker just seconds before he could plunge the blade into him, stopping the impact of the sword hitting the center of his ribcage, the blade missing Dante by mere inches.
Hearing the air leave Vergil’s lungs as he gasped but failed to draw breath, Dante turned rapidly in the middle of trying to pull himself to his feet and a look of genuine alarm overtook his face as Belial snarled in hatred before ramming the blade further into him hard enough to physically lift him up off of his feet, twisting it before pulling it out and shower the entirety of the space in front of them with blood as he pulled downward and slashed a larger exit hole in him than the blade had originally made. Time almost seemed to slow as Vergil fell forward onto his knees, holding the newly formed wound in his chest that, much to the combined horror of everyone unfortunate enough to be able to see it, wasn’t healing. Vergil finally exhaled, but instead of hair blood sprayed from his mouth as Dante rushed to his feet and barely managed to catch him as he teetered forward, going almost entirely limp in his grip.
Content with what he had just accomplished and with the knowledge that Dante would probably be busy for a moment, Belial teleported over to V and grasped the struggling summoner before looking into his eyes seemingly attempting to fully overtake him. V shuddered, blood running from his nose as Belial dematerialized into a small cloud of smoke before being inhaled involuntarily through his mouth and nose, causing the young summoner to gasp and cough as he took on the brunt of his presence.
Nero raced over to his brother’s side, torn between V and his father and uncle. He felt so useless. There had to be something he could do to stop this before it got any worse. But just as he reached him, the young white-haired summoner buckled under the brunt of Belial’s power before gasping heavily and lifting the vial up to his mouth, struggling to swallow it all in one go but managing to do so nonetheless. And as he did, he looked over at the father, an unmistakable pain in his eyes as he wished for nothing more than to be able to make it to his side but knowing that he lacked the strength to stand and do it. He tried with every ounce of strength he possessed to stand but only managed to lift one lead slightly, still anchored in place. Even as he gazed over at him he could feel Belial invading every inch of his being, tugging at every nerve ending in his body and overtaking every neuron in his brain and atom of his being. He felt like a sock that a foot was trying to cram its way into, only the sock was too small, and the foot was entirely too large. But as he breathed heavily and felt himself begin to falter, he saw Nero step towards him, seemingly intending to see if he could help. And as he opened his mouth to try and tell his younger brother to step away, he felt something in himself shift.
The poison had just kicked in.
In an instant, he felt the being within him churn and twist in a way that indicated that Belial was under some form of distress. Good. Then this was working. His suffering had not been for nothing. The injuries of every member of his family had not been for nothing. He was going to make this count. It had to.
“What are you doing?!” Screamed a new voice in his head, clearly as frightened as it was furious, and its rage knew no bounds. He seemed absolutely livid that V had done this to him, and there was a part of the young summoner that couldn't deny that he was pleased by this. After all the pain that the Prince of Darkness had caused him, after all the suffering that they had gone through to reach this moment, after all the sleepless nights and internal anguish… hell, through the imposter syndrome that he’d felt at times just by thinking that he would never be good enough to even make it this far, he had managed to crack Belial’s illusion of control. And even if he died right here right now and took the Devil Prince down with him, he knew that he would spend his last moments terrified and forced to acknowledge his own mortality, and that was something that he knew horrified his enemy more than anything. He could just feel it.
“I’m killing you. What else could I possibly be doing?” V said at a deafening volume within his own mind, shouting it at his enemy, allowing no doubt as to his intentions. No matter what Belial did, this would be the end of him. He would not leave this place alive. “Even if you flee my body right now I will hunt you down and I will destroy you. You’ve been the shadow at my back for as long as I can remember, and I will never run from you again.”
Seemingly incensed by this comment, he felt the demon try to pull away from him; try and find somewhere safe to retreat. But nowhere within him was safe. This was his body, and he wasn’t going to show him any mercy. After all, he had done no such thing for him, and although he was all for second chances in most situations, this was far beyond that. There was no forgiving this. He would be punished brutally and swiftly and he would regret the moment he had decided to take up residence within his body. No, he would regret the day he had decided that his body was his for the taking. No one owned him, least of all this lowly excuse for a Devil Prince.
Moments later V felt the powerful urge to cough overwhelm him. He held it at bay as long as he could before being forced to allow the demon to exit his body the same way that he had entered it, only this time he reformed but then ran a short distance before stumbling to the ground, scorched and seemingly unable to stand. He stayed there wailing and writhing in despair and pain, but that wasn’t Nero’s biggest concern.
He needed to get to Vergil.
Forcing himself with every fiber of his being to get up, he reached towards both his uncle and father only to find Nero’s arms gently wrapping around him, his younger sibling grabbing him under the right arm as they both dragged themselves over to their father and uncle. And as they arrived, they were both finally able to truly take in the gravity of the situation.
Laying on his back against Dante breathing more unsteadily and heavily than they’d ever seen him was Vergil. Despite the literal pool of blood that had formed underneath him, he had still managed to hold on this long. And although his wound was indeed healing, it was still too slow. Painfully slow. Torturously slow. None of them wanted to say as much, but they weren’t sure that he could last that long. And despite all of this, Dante was still by his side, holding him up and allowing the brunt of his weight to rest upon him as he kneeled on the floor and his brother’s blood-soaked through most of his clothing. Even with his own injuries, his focus was clearly entirely upon Vergil, a sort of silent agony in his eyes that neither of them could honestly say they’d ever seen before. And all the while his blade lay at his side, Vergil still gripping his own as Dante rested his right hand on Vergil’s side, trying his best to do something, anything to bring him comfort.
He didn’t have to ask why Vergil had done this for him. He knew. But it was that knowing that made it so very painful because Dante had always known that he’d never truly lost his brother, but he wished with everything in him that this hadn’t been the moment that Vergil had chosen to act in genuine selflessness. From the core of his very being, he needed Vergil to be okay, and he couldn't even start to try and articulate that.
"Hey… You don't look so good. You gonna be alright?" Nero asked softly, seemingly afraid to even get that answer from his father. He wasn't sure that he was in any state to speak, but that was what he was hoping for. If anyone had told him when they had first met that he would ever be this concerned about his father, he would have probably told them that they were out of their mind. But now…
For a moment, it almost seemed as though the dark slayer was going to speak until he didn't, simply looking at both of them before his eyes traveled downward towards Yamato, his blade still in his grip. And then he released it, allowing it to gently slide to the floor. Neither of them seemed to understand what he was trying to communicate until a slate wrestling noise could be heard behind them.
Just out of sight a short ways behind them, Belial could be heard pulling himself back to his feet. And despite his broken wings and completely battered and bruised body, he seemed to still have just enough fight in him to still pose a threat as he dragged his limp tail behind him and lifted his blade into something resembling a fighting stance. Nero looked at V before sharing a quiet look with Dante and then his father, closing his eyes for a second before he turned and raced off in the direction of the Devil Prince, shouting as he did so. He wasn't going to just stand by and watch as this demon got away with what he had just done. It was still time to save their father, but the fact that he had just tried to kill all of them wasn't going to be casually overlooked.
V looked down at his father for a moment, kneeling in exhaustion as he slumped over and allowed his hand to rest on his arm for a moment before, much to his surprise, Vergil raised his hand slightly and looked between him and the blade, almost as though he were indicating that he should take it. V stared at his father in quiet disbelief before closing his eyes and exhaling, his condition less than desirable but still serviceable. The only issue was that he had never used a blade before in his life, and Yamato wasn't exactly a comfortable starting place. But then again, nothing about any of this was comfortable. It couldn't be more deadly than what he had just experienced, could it?
With a reluctant smile, the young summoner reached down and gripped Yamato's hilt, the cold steel comfortable in his hand in a way that he did not expect. He then slowly stood and kept both hands on the blade, electing to turn and make sure the younger brother was all right. And much to his surprise, Nero was more than all right. In fact, Nero seemed to be handling himself quite well. He had pulled the devil breaker from his belt that the sisters had blessed for them before they had come down here, and as the magenta-hued chain wrapped around Belial, the demon Prince screamed in agony, his flesh searing as though he was being cooked alive by a hot skillet. "Oh, so that's what it does. Fucking sweet!" He thought to himself as he tried his level best to keep the demon under control. Given the status of his shoulder, he would not be able to keep him under control for long. V would have to act now or never.
Steadying himself just enough to do what he knew he needed to do, he dropped the sheath of Yamato and charged forward, building speed as he rushed towards the Devil Prince, his breath picking up as he raced forward at a speed that he could not remember ever moving at of his own accord. It was like that night in the pond when he had injured his leg during the attack on Lympha and he had miraculously found his way to the side of the highway despite it being a considerable distance from where he had fallen. When it counted, he just seemed to summon the strength necessary to continue forward, and this time his eyes were locked on Belial, the writhing maniacal prince trying his best to pull free and Nero trying his very best to keep him from doing so before the time was right.
Careening towards his opponent at a speed that was probably overkill, he focused as hard as he could on hitting his target, the blade dragging along the wet floor and slicing a swath in it as he rushed forward. He could feel Yamato in his hand, almost as though it were an extension of his own arm, and despite his fatigue and the lingering issue of his imminent death by poisoning should he not receive the antidote within the next few minutes, he couldn't bring himself to dwell on any of those things. He had to make this attack count. If he didn't, they would most certainly. And if they had not filled him thus far, then he could not fail them. That was a promise that he had made to himself.
In one fell swoop he dragged the blade from the floor all the way up and across Belial's injured body, a black wave of dark energy coating the blade as Yamato's signature metal hum if you heard echoing throughout the chamber, the slash perhaps 10 times the length of the blade, spraying the room with shades of crimson and black like paint being spread across a canvas in midair. It made contact with the devil Prince's body at the exact second that Nero pulled the whip away, not wanting to sever it or cause it to be an obstruction. And with that strike, he cleaved clean through his body, the devil Prince standing for a moment before pivoting and looking at the both of them. He then took a single step and fell in half, either side of him becoming nothing more than a pile of black mush on the floor. And as he finally faded away before their very eyes, they both exhaled, the younger of the two putting his hand on his brother's shoulder before pulling him into a tight hug which was reciprocated without contest. They were both so emotionally and physically depleted that it was a wonder they were still keeping it together at all. And Dante, for that matter.
Utterly exhausted and beyond the point of near insanity from the circumstances they had all just lived through, V looked down at the floor again, almost as though he couldn't believe that they had actually done it. That he and Nero had actually managed to finish this on their own. It was time to go home, Vergil inched closer and closer to unconsciousness, how were they going to do that?
"Do you know how to…?" The oldest of the two said softly, gesturing towards the blade in his hand. Nero looked at him quietly for a moment as though he wasn't entirely sure what he meant by that until he realized what it was that V was hoping he knew had to do. It was a good guess, all things considered. After all, Nero had been in the possession of the blade for quite a while before Vergil had reclaimed it. V handed it to him before coughing harshly, the younger of the two quickly reaching into his pocket and handing him the antidote. He just hoped that no permanent damage had been done during the interim.
V nodded gratefully and reclaimed the vial, glad that he had not collapsed and been at the mercy of Nero's timing. It wasn't that he thought his brother would forget or leave him to die. Far from it. But Nero had enough things to worry about during the heat of battle. He hadn't wished to give him another. But as he stood there holding the blade, he wasn't entirely sure that he knew how to do it. He was willing to try, but how did his father do it? Was the ability something intrinsic to his father or to the blade itself?
“Nothing I just… It haven't held it since the day I lost my arm.” Nero said softly, feeling his brother's eyes on him as he took a deep breath and stepped forward, closing his own eyes and attempting to concentrate. He knew where they needed to go. He just didn't know if he could bring them there. But as he ripped him out of his blade and made a crisscross in the air in the same way that he had seen his father do so many times, concentrating on the image of the Ludwig within the confines of his own mind, he exhaled and opened his eyes, stepping back and relative shock as he realized that he had actually done it. Despite everything, the youngest member of the family had managed to do something that he'd only ever seen his father pull off. A small, tired smile spread across his face as he stepped back, both he and V regarding Dante as he approached from behind them, Vergil now unconscious in his arms. And as he stepped towards the portal to take his older twin back to where he belonged, he glanced over his shoulder at Nero, nodding in impressed approval before turning towards V and gesturing towards the spot on the ground where the Devil Prince had previously been.
"You're forgetting something, V," Dante said softly before stepping through, aware of the fact that he had little time to lose. He wasn't sure how grim things were, but he wasn't willing to stand around and chit-chat idly even if he wished that he could.
Looking back over his shoulder, V was surprised to find a black sphere of energy floating on the ground over the spot where Belial had previously been, the broken shards of what had been his consciousness beckoning. With great hesitance he reached his hand out and allowed it to hover the object before something spiraled up and around his cane, disappearing out of sight as a touch to his hand. A sort of strange sensation overcame him as he felt the newly minted Devil Arm manifest within his mind's eye. Now this was going to be interesting. But there was no time to test it now. Perhaps later. Much later.
He turned back towards his brother, uncle, and father, lingering for a moment on the thought of what they had done for his sake. They all cared about the state of the world and their place in it, but at the end of the day, they had come down here to protect him. They had stood up to perhaps the most powerful demon in the entire underworld to protect him, and his father had nearly lost his life as a result. He was overwhelmed by the very thought of the reality of what they had just done. They were still alive despite all the odds. They had done this together. Now it was time to get the medical attention and rest that they all needed. It was the quiet after the storm, and all of them could attest to the fact that it had genuinely been the worst sort of storm that any of them could have imagined. They were just fortunate not to have been washed away in the floodwaters that ensued.
(-~)
The moment they stepped through the portal and out onto the front drive of the Ludwig estate, everything came to a total standstill. It was as if every single demon out there could sense the death of the Demon Prince, and as they caught sight of the blade that V held in his hand tripping with their former master's power, they backed down, running for the hills in absolute terror. Not a single one of them wanted to tangle with the young summoner who had destroyed the Prince of Despair. They didn’t stand a chance and they knew it. But as they ran, most of them dematerialized into dust, their life force seemingly evaporating like mist in the wake of a sunny morning. Perhaps the death of their master had spelled the end for them? He wasn't going to linger on it.
Stumbling in exhaustion towards the front steps that led to the door, they were met by Magnolia, Morgan, and Bren, all of whom looked exhausted and beyond done with this entire situation. A pile of dead demons laid at Morgan's feet, and despite the ridiculousness of his weapon, Bren had seemingly killed at least one of them. But as Magnolia caught sight of the condition they were in, she gestured for them to follow her as she ran and swung the doors to the manor open, gesturing for them to follow her down a long corridor that presumably led to a place where they could seek medical care.
Dragging themselves towards the door in utter exhaustion, the young white-haired summoner began to mentally check out. He only vaguely caught what Magnolia was asking them, and he filled her hand on his shoulder as he began to sway, his head spinning in his eyes heavy. She seemed to be attempting to ask him something, but he simply didn't have the mental clarity to comprehend it, let alone give her an answer. He wanted to, but he simply didn't have it in him right now. And as they crossed the threshold into what appeared to be an infirmary of some sort, V placed one hand on the nearest bed and collapsed face down into it, barely making it through the threshold of the door. He felt a warm hand on the center of his back, not so much holding him there as it was trying to comfort him and assess his condition. But then as the hand moved away, he exhaled heavily before allowing the exhaustion that he had held back unknowingly for so long to overtake him. He finally had permission to rest, and he wasn't going to pass that up.
"... Is he going to be alright, Magnolia?" He asked in a state of other exhaustion, not even able to move or look at her as he spoke. He didn't like how indirect he was being, but he simply didn't have the strength to do anything more than what he was doing right now. This was it. This was his limit. He was certain this time that he had reached it. "Will they all be okay?"
Magnolia seem to pause for a moment as she assessed Vergil's condition with one of the other Ludwig women, the identity of who he could not make out given the fact that he was barely keeping his eyes open at this point and basically looking at the floor. She stepped away and came over to him, gently draping him in the blanket that lay on the bed. He had been in such a hurry to clamber onto the mattress so that he did not fall on the floor that he had actually missed the fact that it was there. She then gently leaned over and allowed her hand to rest on his shoulder, wrestling the back of his hair gently. One look at him was enough to tell that both he and the rest of his family have been put through the wringer. All of them that day had. But considering everything she had been through, she was glad that she hadn't gone down there with them. She knew she wouldn't survive something like that. They were brave beyond words.
"Just rest, love. We'll take care of him. You're right here with them should he need you. Let that comfort you."
Raising his head just enough to see her, Dante, and Nero, he took in the room around him for just a moment. Both Nero and Dante were being looked after, and it was quite a bit of commotion around Vergil. This was the best place that they could be, and he had done everything he possibly could. Perhaps Magnolia was correct. Maybe it was time that he did rest after all. For the final time before he lost consciousness, he lowered his head and felt his entire body go limp as his knees almost hit the floor and his head hung over the side of the bed that he was laying on at the wrong angle, every muscle in his body giving out all at once. And as he exhaled and inhaled through his ragged, thoroughly worn out lungs, he allowed a certain peace to overtake him. He had faced the worst thing that he had ever had to endure and manage to survive it. He could live with that.
(-~-)
Sorry if there are any mistakes that I missed! After you edit for this long there are just some things that slip through the cracks, especially when your Wi-Fi signal constantly drops and you keep losing access to your editing programs as a result lol! Fun modern time as we live in, huh? Anyway, chapter 100 will be out this weekend as a special treat to you, so you actually get three chapters this week since this was chapters 99 and 100 originally. I couldn't leave the book off on a cliffhanger like that, so chapter 100 is going to be the actual last chapter. But don't worry, that's not the end of the story. Check back in on Sunday evening to see what I mean! That's when I'll be posting chapter 100! I can't wait to see you guys in the comments, and I genuinely hope that this chapter lived up to the hype and expectations that I've been building for so many chapters. I've never tried to execute a 100 chapter build up to anything. Hell, I don't think I tried to build up to something via the course of 10 chapters before now! I just hope that I could provide some genuine entertainment to all of you, and for those of you who have stuck it out this long, I can't thank you enough! I look forward to seeing you in chapter 100 on Sunday, and in the comments for this chapter! Take care until then!
Primrose is one of three OCs that I’ve created for my DMC AU. You generally won’t see more than one of them in any given fic at a time (if they make an appearance at all), but still. Out of the three of them, Primrose is probably the most unique.
Primrose is a bookworm, philosopher, and botanist with a keen intellect and a kind but fierce personality. She is nothing if not a determined intellectual with a kind heart. She spends most of her days using her very limited eyesight to study plants and work towards making alchemical breakthroughs in the hope of curing some of the most deadly ailments, supernatural or otherwise. She and V have an adorable friendship that may or may not slowly progress towards an actual relationship. It depends. What never changes, however, is that she is blind and uses her purple and black Owl familiar named Haze to see for her. She has powers of her own, but she mostly uses practical alchemy and grimoires if she needs to protect herself because her actual powers are unstable, to say the least.
You will come to know more about her as time passes, but I'm more than happy to answer any questions anyone has about her, hear your opinions and feedback about her, and include her in any content you ask me to. So feel free to voice your opinions about Primrose to me. I'd be happy to hear from you.
Now, back to finishing the outline for my mega fanfic.
