Rebirth-Transcending All Beings-Chapter 44: A Dance With The Devil [1]

Clap.

Clap.

Clap.

The sound rang throughout the ruin, echoing through blood-stained stone and silent corpses.

Vergil titled his head, his blade dripped crimson — his stance relaxed. Eleanor remained close, her gaze locking onto the being who made the noise.

From the entrance they came through, the false form of the human "kael began to ripple

The sound of wet silk tore through the air, as flesh sloughed off in strips and melted to the floor.

The illusion had begun to reveal itself.

What became of Kael, was now a towering, humanoid wrapped in ribbons of grey flesh that writhed like worms feeding.

The skin stretched like wax, semi-transparent in places — revealing the twitch of exposed muscle and a rhythmic pulse of sluggish veins crawling beneath.

A void like mask painted its face, six eyes and a hollow mouth that stretched into a gaping and crooked grin filled with childlike teeth.

Six arms unfolded from its sides with eerie fluidity, each one ending differently. He stood tall, casting a shadow that stretched over the altar that violently throbbed as it drank.

"Well now," his tone was equal in both admiration and menace. "You’ve outdone yourself, Vergil. How magnificent!"

Vergil finally shifted his body. His eyes didn’t show surprise. Only measured stillness.

"I expected you guys to team up," Morvax continued, voice buzzing beneath his flesh like a hive of insects. "But this? This was... joy. Pure ecstasy."

He tilted his grotesque head, observing the corpses.

"I thought I was the monster in this little show." He stepped closer.

"But you?" His smile widened. "You’re just like me."

Vergil didn’t answer. He simply stared.

Morvax chuckled–wet and low.

"I never imagined you’d enjoy it this much. I had hoped... but I never expected to be surprised."

The demon glanced at the jewel, then back to Vergil. 𝘧𝓇𝑒𝑒𝑤ℯ𝑏𝓃𝘰𝑣ℯ𝘭.𝘤ℴ𝘮

"Well done, truly. I almost want to applaud again, so I’ll give you an offer."

The sickle hand pointed to the women who watched. "Sacrifice her and let’s open the gate."

Eleanor’s grip on her rapier tightened, but she said nothing. Her calm remained unshaken.

However Vergil on the other hand, was unshaken, he studied Morvax and turned to look at Eleanor and after a few seconds he gave an answer, his face forming a deranged smile.

"You see... I’m not particularly a fan of your proposal. Who knows what will happen if I team up with you? You might gang up on me with your friends, so no. I’ll be sacrificing you."

Morvax looked at him, "So be it."

Vergil’s eyes narrowed. In a single breath, his mana surged–faint arcs of pale energy rippling across his skin as Mana Affinity activated.

His body sharpened like a honed blade, energy pulsing outward in a wave of cold clarity, as his primal Awareness was activated.

Then he moved.

Vergil dashed forward with a burst of acceleration — becoming a shadow. His body piercing the air like a spear as the mana that circulated expanded his muscles.

Morvax responded instantly. His body twisting midair as flesh began to unravel and reknit with a sickening squelch.

Standing tall as Vergil’s copy once more.

Not quite perfect.

The imitation’s flesh was the same, but the left hand transformed into a blade..

Morvax grinned with Vergil’s stolen face, then lunged.

Steel clashed with warped mimicry as the two collided, blades whistling against each other. Sparks danced through the air, every swing was met with a perfect counter.

’He’s learning...’ Vergil noted, grimly calm. ’Too fast.’

Morvax’s mimic form moved like a broken reflection — each slash smoother than the last. His left arm refined itself into a long curved blade of bone as black veins pulsed through its length.

Schiiing!

He brought it down in an arc that split the stone floor behind Vergil.

The real Vergil didn’t flinch. Instead, his off-hand ignited.

Flames burst from his palm, the red-orange light illuminated his face.

The air around shimmered with heat when he struck the fake — Boom! A wave of heat exploded across his chest.

The demon was hurled backwards, crashing through cracked pillars and sliding across the ruin floor, his copy flesh hissing from the burn.

But he rose, laughing.

His burned skin bubbled and reformed instantly, adapting to even that.

"Beautiful," he hissed, sword-arm twitching. "Now show me more."

Vergil answered with another dash, this time faster and fiercer. He slashed high, then low, following with a spin-kick enhanced by mana. Morvax deflected the blade, took the kick full force, but bent with it unnaturally and countered.

They fought like mirrored nightmares.

Steel and bone.

Fire and shadow.

Precision and imitation.

Every motion painted the air with lethal artistry, but Morvax kept improving, inch by inch.

Eleanor stood still, lingering a distance behind as the two fought in the centre.

It wasnt the time.

Not yet.

Because this was Vergil’s dance.

And monsters deserved to settle scores in their own language.

Vergil’s stance shifted.

His feet sliding apart, knees bent enough to ground himself as Ember Blaze danced on his off hand. The flickering glow casting a halo of orange light across the altar.

His eyes narrowed again.

The world sharpened. Every twitch in Morvax’s form, each flex of copied muscle, each unnatural coil of that mimic flesh, became more vivid. It was like peeling back the blur of motion itself. He saw the delay in Morvax’s right hip, the overcompensation in the sword-arm.

’He hasn’t fully mastered it,’ Vergil analysed. ’Not yet.’

He moved.

No longer reactive–he attacked with intent.

But Morvax was ready, mouth stretching into a warped grin. "Try me, original."

Vergil surged forward, and this time, it wasn’t a strike he threw.

He lunged–teeth first.

A savage, primal bite.

Morvax’s eyes widened as Vergil snapped forward like a beast, aiming for the side of his neck. The demon twisted, barely ducking the strike, but the sheer unpredictability rattled his rhythm.

’He fights like a monster now... not a man.’

The bite didn’t land, but it gave Vergil the space he needed.

His swordsmanship flowed, less rigid than before. His footwork began to blend evasive archer movements with the stance of a swordsman — allowing him to pivot from close to mid-range pressure.

Morvax tried to counter.

His transformed sword-arm came down in a wicked arc.

CLANG!

Vergil raised his right forearm–and with a shimmer, his shield was summoned from his inventory, just in time.

The impact cracked the air, and the shield rebounded as the two powers collided. Sparks of red and black exploded from the contact point, and Vergil pushed back, sending Morvax sliding a step.

’I can see through him.’

Morvax stumbled slightly, surprised by the technique–and hissed.

"That shouldn’t have worked," he spat, voice warping with frustration. "You fight like a cornered beast. Wild. Undisciplined. And yet–!"

He lunged again, sword-arm flashing with corrupted energy.

But this time, Vergil was ready.

The dance was far from over.

But now, Vergil led.

Yet Morvax wasn’t done, his twisted grin stretched wider as he feinted low, then snapped his mimic blade upward, slicing clean across Vergil’s shoulder.

SHUNK.

Blood spattered across the broken altar, the deep gash tearing into muscle and nearly dislocating the joint. Vergil slid back from the impact, his left arm going momentarily numb.

Morvax’s warped, Vergil-like form stalked forward, expression wild with triumph. "You’re quick," he hissed, six arms twitching around him, "but you bleed all the same."

Vergil didn’t respond right away. Instead, he gave a twisted smile

His breathing was calm.

Focused.

Then, the wound began to glow.

Thin, green veins pulsed beneath his pale skin, spreading out like vines under his flesh. A soft, ghostly bloom of spectral leaves curled around the bleeding cut, sealing it inch by inch as the blood slowed, then stopped altogether.

Morvax faltered, eyes narrowing. "...What the hell, your healing ability is unnatural, are you even a human?"

The shoulder rotated with a light crack, fully healed. Vergil rolled it once, then regripped his sword with both hands.

"Call me whatever you want."

The demon stared, something like irritation flickering behind his mimic grin. "That should’ve disabled your arm."

Vergil’s eyes locked onto his. "And yet here I am."