Chapter 460: My little Rize.

Vergil’s blood, hot and thick, ran down the spear and onto the Spiderling’s wounds.

The reaction was immediate.

The dark green of her blood bubbled, mixing with the bright red. The wounds began to close… but something in them refused to return to their previous state. The flesh molded, the bones cracked.

She let out a scream—not of pain, but of pure transformation.

Her hind legs contorted, partially retracting, and the muscles lengthened. Bones appeared at new angles, straighter, more… human. The carapace split open in places, revealing pale skin beneath a grayish hue.

Vergil watched, motionless, like a sculptor watching his work come to life.

“Yes… more… more!”

Her front limbs lengthened, and at their ends, fingers began to sprout—slender, tipped with black claws. Her posture changed; She let go of her full weight on the ground and raised half her body, now more humanoid than arachnid.

Her face… it was still a monstrous mask, but part of it seemed more angular, more symmetrical. Two of her eight eyes disappeared, merging into the bone structure, while the other six glowed with a new intensity.

“Grow legs… and fight like a human,” Vergil repeated, almost in a trance.

She took a deep breath—a hoarse sound, mixed with an internal creaking of joints reorganizing themselves. When she took the first step, the cave seemed smaller. Her movements were more fluid, more adaptable.

Zuri covered her mouth in disbelief. “She… she’s becoming…”

“A hunter,” Vergil finished, without taking his eyes off her. “More efficient. More dangerous.”

The Spiderling—no longer just a creature, but something between two worlds—flexed her fingers, feeling the weight of her new claws. And then… she smiled.

The smile wasn’t human.

She advanced.

This time, there was no sound of paws against stone—there was the dull impact of feet hitting the ground, followed by a leap that split the air. She struck not just with brute force, but with the precision of someone who understands the timing of combat.

Vergil swung his spear to block, but it didn’t come head-on. In midair, she twisted and changed trajectory, striking him sideways. The blow wasn’t fatal, but enough to push him back two steps.

His laughter echoed, filled with an almost insane pleasure. “That’s it! Now it’s starting to get fun!”

And the dance began again—only now, she wasn’t just the student.

The sound of the first impact was still echoing when Vergil realized—the Spiderling, now erect, was different. Not just physically… but in her presence.

Her energy was denser, more focused.

He swung the spear in a slow arc, measuring her. “I see you liked the gift.”

She tilted her head slightly, her multiple eyes blinking in different sequences, as if processing information across multiple layers. “And I see you thought this would be enough to keep me as… a student.”

The voice wasn’t entirely human—a raspy tone, echoing as if coming from a body still learning to speak. But it had weight. And provocation.

Vergil smiled, letting the spear spin faster. “Make no mistake, little spider. You are still my creation. My work. And I decide how far you can go.”

She didn’t answer. She just advanced.

The first blow came with almost the same speed as his—but with something new. Her reading of his movements was no longer reactive; it was predictive. She didn’t wait to see the attack before reacting. She had already moved beforehand.

Vergil blocked, but felt the impact reverberate through her arm. “Interesting…”

She didn’t back down, stringing together three strikes with almost surgical precision: left claws, a rising knee, and a spinning kick that used the momentum of her own transformation. Vergil dodged the first two, but had to block the third with the shaft of his spear, being pushed back.

“You’re… learning too fast.”

“I’m not learning,” she growled. “I’m evolving.”

Vergil’s gaze flashed. The phrase wasn’t spoken arrogantly—but it was certainly there.

They collided again, and now the fight was no longer just physical combat. It was a contest of rhythms. Every time Vergil sped up, she followed suit. When he slowed down, she slowed down too, but only to better analyze. He began to feel that if he wasn’t careful, the tide might turn.

And that… excited him.

“Faster.” He thrust hard, trying to break her defense.

She didn’t block. Instead, she let the spear graze her body, feeling the shallow cut open her newly formed skin… and used that opening to get closer, digging her claws into the ground and using her own body as leverage to spin and hit him with a kick to the side of the head.

Vergil staggered a step. Just one step. But he couldn’t remember the last time someone had made him take a step back.

His smile was wide now, almost insane. “Are you going to make me serious?”

She licked her own blood, without looking away. “You’re already getting serious. I can feel it.”

The next movements were a whirlwind. Vergil decided to stop holding back. The spear hummed, the blows coming from above, from below, at angles few would be able to follow. But she… kept up. Not perfectly, still suffering from scratches and cuts, but she kept up.

And with each blow she took, she seemed… stronger. More adapted.

Zuri, in the corner, whispered to herself, “She’s molding herself to fight only him… as if every second were a leap in her own evolution.”

Vergil, however, began to notice something. It wasn’t just physical evolution. It was strategy. She was starting to provoke mistakes.

The instant he backed away to regain space, she used the side wall to propel herself, coming from above with an impossible combination of venom, claws, and body impact. Vergil blocked two parts of the attack—the third passed. A claw grazed his face, leaving a trace of blood on his cheek.

He stood still for a moment, feeling the heat drain away.

Then he laughed. Not a polite laugh, not a controlled laugh. But a low, feverish laugh.

“You… really want my throne, don’t you?”

She tilted her head, and for the first time, she smiled—a crooked smile, almost human, but with the promise of a predator. “I want to be beyond you.”

The sound of the next clash was like thunder. They were moving too fast for ordinary eyes to follow. Stone cracked with each impact, the cavern trembling with the echo. Vergil began to feel the pressure in his body, not because he was losing… but because he was truly being tested.

And, to his surprise, part of him wanted to see how far she would go.

But there was a line.

When she began to change her breathing pattern to mimic his—something only truly experienced warriors would do to predict the rhythm of an attack—Vergil realized the gap between master and apprentice was closing too quickly.

In an instant, he retreated.

The spear described a wide arc, creating distance.

She lunged forward, hungry, but he reached out with his free hand, gripping her shoulder with enough force to stop her momentum.

His gaze, still burning with excitement, now took on a more serious tone. “Enough.”

She growled, trying to pull away. “I’m not done.”

“I know.” He pushed her back, not violently, but with authority. “And that’s why you’re not just my little spider.”

She stopped, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her claws still ready for combat. But there was something in his voice that made her wait.

Vergil spun his spear, resting it on his shoulder. The blood on his face had already begun to dry, but the gleam in his eyes hadn’t dimmed. “You’re past the point where you’re just an instinctual creature. Past the point where you’re just an experiment. You’ve crossed the line into something even I can’t ignore.”

The silence in the cave seemed thicker now, broken only by their breathing.

“You deserve a name.” He said it as if it were a ritual, not a favor. “And a name carries weight. It means I recognize you.”

She blinked, her multiple eyes focusing on him. “A name?”

Vergil took a step forward, so close that the tips of her claws brushed the fabric of his coat. “Rize.”

She repeated the sound, testing it on her tongue. “Rize…” The word seemed to come alive in her voice.

“It means to ascend. It means to grow. It means that no matter what exists above you, you will always find a way to overcome it.” He tilted his head, gauging her reaction. “And… it means that now, you are someone who bears my mark… If that irrational spider was your mother. I am Your Father.” Vergil’s demonic gaze was so dark that even Zuri, far away, felt her entire body shiver.

She smiled again—not sweetly, but with that mixture of pride and defiance. “Rize. Father…”

“Now, Rize…” Vergil stepped back, twirling the spear one last time before placing it on the ground. “Know this: I gave you a name. That doesn’t make you my equal. Come. You’ll grow up just fine. My little Rize.”