The impact reverberated across the field long before any sound actually existed, as if space itself were being compressed by forces still trying to find balance within a new order. The surrounding forest, dense and ancient, bore the marks of previous battles, but nothing even remotely close to what was now unfolding. The air was heavy, not only from the released energy, but from the subtle instability that accompanied Vergil’s every movement, as if his own existence was still... adjusting to what he had become.

In the center of that scene, he moved.

Not hesitantly.

But with a precision that, strangely, seemed... incomplete.

Sapphire advanced first.

Without warning.

Without sound.

Her body crossed the distance between them in a single instant, her presence solid, direct, carrying a perfectly controlled brute force, like an invisible blade shaped by pure intention. Her fist came straight, not in an exaggerated arc, but in a straight line, compact, concentrated, as if all the impact were compressed into a single point.

Vergil blocked.

But the ground beneath his feet gave way.

The earth split open in deep cracks that spread like webs, nearby trees uprooted by the shockwave as his body slid backward several meters, even though he had intercepted the blow with absolute precision.

Before he could even stabilize—

Sepphirothy was already upon him.

Her angelic form didn’t emit light in the usual way; it was more as if the surrounding environment rearranged itself to highlight her presence, her wings opening imposingly as multiple blades of energy formed around her, spinning in complex, almost musical patterns, but carrying an absurd destructive potential.

She didn’t attack directly.

She surrounded him.

The blades shot out at impossible angles, cutting through space in trajectories that didn’t follow linear logic, forcing Vergil to move not just fast... but correctly.

Yamato rose.

A single movement.

Swift.

Precise.

He dodged, cut, nullified.

But each defense seemed... excessive.

As if he were using more than he needed—

Or less than he could.

He reappeared a few meters behind, adjusting his posture, his breathing steady, but his gaze slightly more focused now, analyzing not his opponents... but himself.

"...something’s wrong," he said, almost like a diagnosis aloud, his hand lightly gripping the Yamato’s handle as he felt his own body’s response.

Sapphire didn’t advance immediately this time.

She just observed him.

And then responded.

"No," she said firmly. "There isn’t."

One step forward.

Controlled.

"You’re just still fighting like before."

The silence between the movements lasted less than a second.

But it was enough.

Sepphirothy smiled slightly in the air, her wings expanding once more as her energy noticeably increased, pressing down on the surrounding environment with growing intensity.

"You’re still limiting yourself," she finished, her voice echoing with a faint ethereal reverberation. "Your body has changed... your essence has changed... but your reference point for strength is still the old one."

Sapphire disappeared again.

And this time—

She didn’t hold back.

The impact came from below, an upward kick that ripped the ground before even reaching Vergil, lifting an absurd mass of earth and roots along with him, forcing him to block again... but the block wasn’t enough to stop the brutal displacement that launched him high into the air.

And there—

Sepphirothy was already waiting.

Her hands moved in a fluid pattern, and dozens—no, hundreds—of blades of light formed around Vergil, all converging at once, closing off any possible escape route.

The world around them seemed to freeze for an instant.

And then it exploded.

The cuts crisscrossed, tearing through space in multiple directions, creating an explosion of energy so dense that the sky itself seemed to vibrate with the impact.

But in the center—

Nothing.

A cut.

Silent.

Yamato slid.

And Vergil reappeared on the ground.

Intact.

But—

Frowning slightly.

He looked at his own hand for a second.

Felt.

Calculated.

And then spoke again.

"...this isn’t right."

Sapphire landed in front of him, crossing her arms for a moment, clearly irritated by his insistence. 𝐟𝚛𝕖𝚎𝕨𝗲𝐛𝚗𝐨𝐯𝐞𝕝.𝐜𝗼𝗺

"It is," she replied. "You’re just not using it."

Sepphirothy descended slowly behind, her wings partially retracting, but her presence still dominating the space around her. "You’re still putting the same amount of force into your strikes," she explained. "As if your body still has the same limits."

Sapphire finished.

"Stop holding back," she said bluntly. "Stop trying to gauge. Stop using old references."

She pointed at Yamato.

"Just... cut."

Silence fell again.

But this time—

It was different.

Vergil didn’t respond immediately.

His eyes closed for a brief moment.

He breathed.

He felt his own body.

The energy.

The absurd density that now existed within him, compressed, organized, stable... but never fully released.

And then—

He opened his eyes.

Without warning—

He moved Yamato.

It wasn’t a charged strike.

There was no preparation.

It was just—

A swing.

Simple.

Horizontal.

Silent.

And for an instant—

Nothing happened.

Sapphire didn’t move.

Sepphirothy didn’t either.

The world remained the same.

For a second.

Two.

And then—

The forest behind them...

Disappeared.

There was no explosion.

No air displacement.

No visible impact.

The trees—

All of them—

Were simply... sliced.

Billions of cuts.

Perfect.

Simultaneous.

Each trunk divided into hundreds of layers too thin to be perceived individually, leaves cut in microscopic patterns, roots separated from the soil with surgical precision, as if each part of the forest had been analyzed and cut exactly at the ideal point for total collapse.

And then—

Everything fell.

At the same time.

Without resistance.

Without sound.

Like a single organism that lost its structure. The entire horizon behind them had become... flat.

Nothing remained standing.

The line of trees simply ceased to exist.

Sapphire didn’t move.

But her gaze changed.

Sephirothy slowly turned her face back, observing what remained of that landscape, her wings opening slightly once more, not for attack... but for reconnaissance.

Vergil remained still.

His arm still slightly extended after the blow.

His eyes fixed ahead.

Processing.

Feeling.

And then—

He let out a small sigh.

"...I understand," he murmured.

Sapphire didn’t respond immediately, but her eyes were fixed on the destroyed field, analyzing with critical attention, like someone not easily impressed, but who recognizes when something significantly surpasses expectations, while Sepphirothy remained a few steps behind, his wings partially open, his gaze fixed on the same point, but with a slight smile on his lips, as if he had already expected that result from the moment he had instructed him.

And then—

Footsteps.

Light.

Quiet.

Completely out of context.

Coming from the side of the field.

Vivianne appeared as if the scene held absolutely nothing extraordinary about it, carrying a glass pitcher delicately placed on a tray, accompanied by several glasses aligned with impeccable precision, her calm walk contrasting almost absurdly with the devastation around her, as if she were simply crossing a well-kept garden on an ordinary day.

She stopped.

She observed.

Her gaze swept across the empty horizon.

The absence of the forest.

The impossible pattern of destruction.

And then—

Her eyes narrowed.

Slowly.

There was no shock.

No exaggerated surprise.

Just... disapproval.

She turned her face.

Directly to Vergil.

And spoke.

"Retrieve this." Her voice came out firm, cold, without raising her tone, but carrying a silent authority that pierced the atmosphere with far more weight than any previous attack.

A minimal pause.

"Now."

Vergil—

He trembled.

It wasn’t a retreat.

It wasn’t fear in the traditional sense.

But an instinctive, automatic reaction, as if that order had reached a completely different point within him, a point that didn’t respond to force, nor to power... but to something much more direct, much more absolute.

His eyes immediately turned to her.

Without questioning.

Without arguing.

Without even considering another option.

"...right." he replied, almost automatically, his posture adjusting instantly as he slightly raised his free hand, his fingers opening as if about to touch something invisible in the air.

For a brief moment—

Nothing happened.

But then—

The energy shifted.

There was no explosion.

There was no pressure.

It was... connection.

The demonic energy that still permeated the fragments of the forest began to react, not as something loose or scattered, but as a system being reorganized from a central order, each particle, each microscopic fragment responding to Vergil’s call as if recognizing in it a common origin, an authority that didn’t need to be imposed... only exercised.

The pieces—

All of them—

Stopped falling.

In the air.

Suspended.

And then they began to move.

Not chaotically.

But... it needed to.

Reversing the process.

Layer by layer.

The wood fibers realigned, the cells reconnected, the leaves recomposed their structures with absurd perfection, as if time were being reversed, but without the natural imperfections of a temporal reconstruction, and instead with the precision of something that completely understands the original state of each element involved.

The roots returned to the soil.

The trunks rose. The branches stretched out.

And in a matter of seconds—

The forest was back.

Intact.

Without marks.

Without scars.

As if the cut... had never happened.

The wind once again rustled through the leaves.

The natural sound of life returned.

And the world—

Accepted it.

Vergil lowered his hand slowly, observing the result with a slight narrowing of his eyes, as if registering this new application of his own energy with the same care with which he analyzed his attacks, realizing that creation... was no less natural to him than destruction.

Vivianne watched for another second.

Evaluating.

Confirming.

And then—

She smiled.

A slight smile.

Satisfied.

Like someone who has just seen something return to its rightful place.

"That’s better." "I brought juice," she added, her tone returning completely to normal, almost soft, contrasting once more with the absolute authority of moments before.

She looked between the three.

Vergil.

Sapphire.

Sephirothy.

"You three have done enough for today," she continued, beginning to pour the liquid into the glasses with precise and calm movements. "So sit down, breathe... and drink."