Chapter 475: The Words of the Wind

Her roar rent the air, low and metallic, as if thunder had been swallowed and spat back out.

Vergil stood still, Yamato in his hand, his face illuminated by the violet glow emanating from her eyes.

She didn’t understand his words.

She didn’t need to.

The only language she knew now was that of violence.

The first advance was a blur.

Her hooves—now engulfed in black energy—crushed the ground with such force that fragments of stone rose and floated, suspended in the power field forming around her. The makeshift blade, made from a hardened demonic horn, came in a downward arc that, had it connected, would have split an ogre in half.

Vergil intercepted the blow with Yamato, without even moving his feet.

The impact was a dull thunderclap.

The shockwave pushed dust and bones away, revealing the perfect circle they were in—a clean field, created by the very pressure of the collision.

She didn’t stop.

She spun, capitalizing on the momentum, and delivered another blow, this time from the side, aiming for his flank. Vergil leaned back, letting the blade pass inches from his face. He felt the biting wind, but didn’t flinch.

“Hmph…” he smiled, almost disappointed. “Good speed, but predictable.”

The words only infuriated her further.

She lunged forward again, this time trying to break his balance with a spinning kick. The muscles in her thigh tensed in a display of power, and the reinforced hull jutted out like a battering ram. Vergil blocked with the Yamato’s side, absorbing the impact and using it to power a swift counterattack—a shallow cut to her arm.

Glistening black blood flowed, evaporating before it hit the ground.

She looked at the wound, then at him, and roared.

The next blow was a vertical leap, the blade raised above her head. The air trembled. She descended like a meteor.

Vergil, instead of dodging, lifted Yamato horizontally and parried, bending his knees to cushion the force. The ground gave way beneath them, opening a crater.

“Harder…” he murmured, his blue eyes flashing. “Show me more.”

She didn’t understand the words, but she understood the tone.

And she responded with fury.

The combat became a storm of steel, hull, and muscle.

Each of her blows was faster, heavier, more precise than the last.

Each of his defenses was calculated, minimal, always dodging at the last instant so she felt the weight of her own failure. Vergil didn’t defeat her—he molded her.

At one point, she swung the blade in a lunge, and he simply grabbed the horn with his bare hand. The weapon trembled, but didn’t budge. She pulled, trying to rip it off, and he pulled her back, bringing her close until their faces were almost touching.

“See?” he said, his whisper akin to a sentence. “It’s still stuck.”

She released the blade and clawed at his throat, but he had already vanished, reappearing behind her in a flash. A kick to her hamstring knocked her to her knees. Before she could rise, he pressed Yamato’s blade to the back of her neck.

“Dead.”

She turned with inhuman speed, trying to slash at his stomach, but he was already ten feet away, watching.

Her breathing was ragged.

Her body glowed in spots, energy leaking out in thin beams of crimson light. But her eyes… her eyes hadn’t dimmed at all. The fire was still there.

She advanced again.

And again.

And again.

Vergil began to counterattack.

Now, each mistake she made was accompanied by a blow that made her stumble, gasp, and feel real pain. It wasn’t punishment—it was a lesson. He wanted her to learn to guard her openings, to control her fury, to use every ounce of energy lethally.

At one point, she tried to surprise him with a low blow followed by a backflip—and managed to graze his shoulder. A tiny cut, but enough to draw a satisfied smile from Vergil.

“Better…” he admitted, lifting Yamato. “But there’s still time.”

The training disguised as combat lasted minutes that felt like hours. The ground around her was destroyed, craters upon craters, fallen trees forming makeshift walls. The pressure of the battle made the air vibrate as if there were constant thunder.

Finally, she attempted one last attack: she concentrated all her energy into her leg muscles, and the ground sank beneath her feet. She vanished in a leap so fast it left an afterimage. She reappeared above him, descending with her horn-blade in a full-force vertical fall.

Vergil lifted Yamato, and just as her blade descended, he moved his body to the side, slicing through the air around her.

He didn’t touch her body.

He didn’t need to.

The air Yamato sliced through exploded in an invisible wave that struck her head-on, knocking her off course and hurling her dozens of meters. She crashed through two stone columns before coming to a stop, her body partially buried in the rubble.

Silence.

Vergil put Yamato away.

The dust cleared, revealing her kneeling, still breathing. Her violet eyes burned, not with anger now, but with something closer… recognition.

He walked toward her, stopping a few steps away. “Get up.”

She obeyed, still panting.

She said nothing. She just stared at him, her chest rising and falling, her muscles trembling with exhaustion and adrenaline.

Vergil studied her for a long moment, then spoke softly, almost to himself: “You’ll hate me for a long time… but you’ll learn.”

She didn’t understand the words. But she understood the look in her eyes.

And, for the first time, she didn’t charge forward to attack him.

[While… he’s amused…]

“I love to think how annoying that was, but I’ve clearly gained a lot from this… Disturbance,” Roxanne said, looking at the horizon of the area she was in.

Instead of fighting those typhoons and cyclones, she began to learn from them. Just as Raphaeline learned about the Blood and created her ultimate Technique… Roxanne did the same, though she didn’t reach enlightenment like Raphaeline.

“My Winds have now become hurricanes… My Air manipulation has improved by 70%… If I spend more time in places with typhoons and cyclones… Can I become stronger?” She looked at that place that no longer had a single Air storm.

…The silence in her gaze toward the horizon for some reason… caught her attention… “What is it, Mr. Wind?” Roxanne questioned the small breeze from Hell…

Then, supernaturally, she heard… [It seems… the change of the Age has begun.]

Roxanne looked back quickly, searching for the source of the voice. “W-what?” She stammered before hearing another sentence.

[The End of an Age begins with the birth of a King.]