Chapter 465: What?

The mist seemed to spread thicker with each step, but Vergil showed neither haste nor hesitation.

The branches, some so twisted they resembled deformed hands, curved over the makeshift path, forming a natural canopy. The air was saturated with moisture and smelled of old moss—and, for those paying attention, there was a low whisper coming from all directions, as if the forest were chattering among itself about the group’s presence.

Titania hovered a few meters ahead, her wings beating with a soft, almost imperceptible glow, guiding them with a quick gesture of her hand. Her face still held the traces of her earlier irritation, but now there was something else there: calculation.

Vergil walked in silence, his pace steady and precise, with Zuri nestled on his shoulders and Rize following a little behind, as quiet as he.

The fairy finally couldn’t hold her tongue. “You… are just following me? Like that?” she asked, looking over her shoulder. “You’re not even going to question if I know what I’m doing?”

Vergil glanced up at her slightly, as if analyzing her more calmly than the situation required. “No.”

“No?” she repeated, almost laughing, but with a hint of disbelief. “You don’t even know if I’m taking you to the right place.”

He kept walking, his boots crunching wet leaves. Then he replied, his voice too calm to be comforting: “I know.”

Her silence lasted two seconds. “So… why are you going without question?” she insisted, lifting her chin defiantly.

Vergil paused for a moment, tilted his head slightly, and looked at her like someone observing a rare insect. A small—and dangerously sincere—smile played at the corners of his mouth. “Because if you’re sending me into a trap… I’ll kill you.”

The air between them seemed to grow colder.

His smile didn’t widen, didn’t become a joke. It stayed there, unmoving, like a silent promise. Zuri, on his shoulder, simply moved her tail slowly, as if she had understood the message perfectly—and approved.

Titania, on the other hand, felt a chill run down her spine, and for a second the beating of her wings slowed. She looked away, pretending not to be bothered.

“Hmph. Let’s go,” she murmured, pointing to a narrow passage between two trees so thick they looked like walls. “Enemies… there. Two, stationary. Three more circling the area.”

“Distance?” Vergil asked, picking up his pace.

“Five hundred meters.” Her voice was now objective, without flourishes. “They seem to be… waiting.”

Rize walked a few steps behind, her gaze fixed on Vergil’s back, as if his every movement were worthy of attention.

“Master… want me to clear the way?” she offered, a slight glint of excitement in her tone.

He didn’t answer immediately, just kept walking. “No. I want to see if they have anything to say before they die.”

The group moved forward, and as they followed the indicated direction, the vegetation changed. The trees grew taller and closer together, and wide roots emerged from the ground like giant ribs, forcing them to walk unevenly.

Titania, despite keeping her pace, cast discreet glances at Vergil. The smile he had given her earlier was still etched in her memory—and the most uncomfortable thing wasn’t the threat itself, but the fact that he had said it with complete conviction, as if enunciating a natural law.

“Ten degrees to the left,” she said suddenly, pointing with her hand. “One of the patrollers is circling closer to the trail. If we go straight ahead, we’ll run into him.”

Vergil followed without hesitation.

“You’re annoyingly obedient,” the fairy commented, trying to hide her discomfort with a hint of sarcasm.

“It’s not obedience,” he replied, dodging a root that jutted like a spear from the ground. “It’s practicality.”

Zuri let out a low sound, somewhere between a stifled laugh and a hiss. “In other words: if you do something stupid, the practicality will be to rip off your wings and go on without you.”

Titania shot the serpent a sharp look, but didn’t reply. Perhaps because, deep down, the sentence sounded like an indisputable fact.

They continued like this, crossing the forest with an almost unnerving calm, until the sound of something light moving through the leaves began to become audible. It wasn’t heavy like human footsteps, but quick, agile—like predators that knew how to hide.

“Three to the right now…” Titania said, her voice lower, almost a whisper. “Two behind. One… is above.”

Vergil looked up at the treetops, not slowing down. The light filtered through the mist created shifting shadows, and up there, among the branches, something was moving.

“Distance?” he asked again.

“Less than a hundred meters,” she replied, more serious now. “If you want to strike first, now is the time.”

He didn’t answer, but the slight adjustment in his pace made Zuri and Rize understand that he had already decided what to do.

Titania, even silent, continued to point out directions and subtle changes in the enemy’s positioning. Her arrogant tone had softened considerably since Vergil’s earlier warning. The fear wasn’t overt, but it was there, subtle, shaping the way she spoke to him.

The forest, for its part, seemed to relish the tension. The trees creaked softly, as if laughing, and the mist closed in behind them with each step, preventing any easy return.

When they finally approached the area where the first enemies should be, Vergil stopped.

“How many in total?” he asked.

“Seven. Three in front, two flanking, two behind,” Titania replied immediately.

He nodded slightly. “Good. Keep aiming.”

The sound began as a slight tremor in the ground—so soft it could have been mistaken for wind moving roots. But within seconds, the noise grew, transforming into a rhythmic rumble that seemed to come from every direction.

Titania, who had been floating a few meters ahead, urgently raised a hand.

“Stop!” she said, her tone more serious than it had been since she’d begun guiding them. “Stop now!”

Vergil slowed, giving her an expectant look. “Speak.”

She turned her head to the left, her eyes fixed on the thick fog. “There’s… something coming. It’s not just one or two. It’s a whole herd. And it’s not… human.”

Rize, who had been walking silently, rested her hand on the hilt of her gun. “How many?” she asked, her tone unchanged.

“Several,” Titania replied, frowning. “More than fifty, maybe more than a hundred. And they’re coming fast.”

Vergil stared in the direction she indicated, unhurried, as if waiting to see what would emerge. The sound was closer now, and the trees ahead began to creak and give way, falling like broken twigs. Branches flew, trunks were jostled and broken with dry cracks, and the mist churned as if fleeing from what was advancing.

Until something broke through the white veil.

A cow.

Simple as that. A cow running, its eyes glowing bright red, black saliva dripping from its mouth. But the detail that betrayed its nature was its skin marked with burned symbols, its twisted horns that looked like blades, and a heavy, metallic odor that wafted along with it.

Zuri, still on Vergil’s shoulder, lifted her head. “This… is new.”