Chapter 476: Give her your arm to eat.

The field was devastated.

Each attack from the creature—that “little cow” that was no longer docile—opened craters in the ground. Vergil, relentless, dodged or intercepted each blow with Yamato, sometimes parrying only with the handle, as if he were a master playing with an apprentice.

The problem was that this “learning” was a one-sided slaughter.

She advanced with hoarse screams, a mixture of frustration and pure fury. She didn’t understand his words. She didn’t even understand why she remained alive after each defeat. But she knew, deep down, that she needed to crush him.

And she failed. Always.

Vergil, on the other hand, showed no signs of fatigue. Each time he knocked her down, it wasn’t to end the fight—it was to begin again. He made her stand up, caught her breath, and then crushed her again, breaking bones, tearing flesh… and then offering her pieces of demonic flesh, restoring her.

It was a vicious cycle: humiliation, healing, and more humiliation.

In the distance, Zuri crossed her arms. “Is this… is this really a learning method?” she asked, not hiding her discomfort. “Is he training or just having fun?”

Rize, who was sitting on a block of bones, gave a lazy smile. “I learned this way.”

Zuri turned to face her. “You’re a demonic spider. You have fighting instincts. And intelligence.”

“Exactly,” interjected Titiana, who was watching the fight with an analytical, almost clinical gaze. “This one isn’t.”

Zuri frowned. “What do you mean?”

Titiana turned to face her, her eyes shining with the knowledge of someone who’s lived too long among monsters.

“There’s a stark difference between a Common Demonic Beast and a Greater Demonic Beast.”

She paused, as if weighing the weight of her words. “The Common Ones… like that cow… exist to hunt, eat, and survive. They’re pure instinct. They don’t have strategic reasoning, they don’t plan, they don’t learn the way we do. They just repeat patterns until they die or evolve accidentally.”

“And the Superior Ones?” Zuri wanted to know.

“The Superior Ones,” Titiana continued, “are a different story. They are born or become capable of thinking, strategizing, learning, and retaining knowledge. They’re like hunters who know how to read their prey before attacking. Rize was born that way.”

Zuri looked at the fight.

The cow advanced again, spewing black vapor. Vergil knocked her down with a kick to the kneecap, breaking her balance, and in a single movement, slammed the Yamato’s hilt blade into her neck, knocking her down for good.

Then he threw her a piece of demon meat. She swallowed it like a starving animal, without even chewing.

“So you’re saying…” Zuri murmured, “that no matter how much he hits her, she’ll never truly ‘learn’?”

Titiana nodded slowly. “Not with the brain she has now.”

In the field, Vergil took a few steps back, giving the creature a rare moment of respite.

He looked at the trio of observers, as if already knowing what they were discussing.

“I noticed,” he said, wiping away Yamato’s blood. “She learns… but it’s a shallow learning. She copies the movement, but doesn’t understand the intention.”

The cow was breathing heavily behind him, eyes full of fury, but not understanding the argument.

“So?” Zuri taunted. “Are you going to give up on this ‘masterpiece’ of yours?”

Vergil’s gaze narrowed. “No. I’m thinking about how to speed up her evolution.”

It was Rize who broke the silence. “Give me your arm.”

Zuri blinked, in disbelief. “What?”

Rize smiled, as if it were obvious. “Cut off the arm and feed it to her.”

The silence was heavy.

Titiana raised an eyebrow. “Are you suggesting…”

“Exactly,” Rize interrupted excitedly. “This creature already devours anything he gives her. If she absorbs energy directly from him, she might be able to inherit not only strength, but part of his… how should I say… consciousness.”

Zuri took a step back. “That’s insanity.”

Rize shrugged. “I thought so too, at first. But when you’re made of blood and violence, you understand that sometimes it’s the price to create something… special.”

Vergil glanced at her sideways, studying her words. His eyes glinted with that same hint of madness that had been growing in recent months.

“Hm…”

The cow, not understanding anything, continued to stare at him, breathing heavily, her body marked by fresh cuts that were already beginning to heal with the meat he had given her earlier.

“If it’s true…” Vergil muttered, mostly to himself, “then she could become something… unique.”

Rize tilted her head. “Like me.”

Titiana snorted. “Or she could just bulk up a bit and stay dumb.”

“It’s worth the risk,” Vergil said without hesitation.

He stepped forward, staring at the creature.

Their eyes met.

She didn’t know what fate was about to befall her.

But he felt… something. A different weight in the air.

Vergil held Yamato tightly.

The blade reflected the dull light of the devastated field.

Zuri sighed, crossing his arms. “You really are sick.”

“Yes,” he replied, almost smiling. “And that’s why it works.”

The wind carried the acrid smell of blood and scorched earth.

Vergil took a deep breath, as if preparing for some trivial act, but his fingers were already adjusting the angle of the Yamato.

The cow retreated half a step, not out of fear—it lacked the intelligence for that—but out of a primal instinct for self-preservation. Still, it stood there, gasping, as Vergil’s muscles tensed.

A clean cut.

No scream, just the dry sound of the blade piercing flesh and bone.

His right arm fell to the ground with a heavy impact, splattering thick, pulsing blood. That liquid was no ordinary red—it had deep, almost bluish hues, and emanated an energy that made the air around it vibrate.

The reaction was immediate.

The cow’s eyes widened, nostrils flaring, and a guttural roar escaped its throat. In a single leap, it snapped at the severed limb, crushing the bones and swallowing it in pieces, like a predator finally tasting divine flesh.

Rize watched with an almost maternal smile. “This… will be interesting.”

Zuri, pale, took a step back. “He’s killing himself for an experiment!”

“Wrong,” Titiana corrected, without taking her eyes off the creature. “He’s gambling.”

The cow’s body began to tremble. First, mild spasms. Then, violent convulsions that brought it to its knees. Black veins formed beneath its skin, pulsing as if something was coursing through it with too much force.

Vergil, still without his arm, simply watched.

His blood continued to drip onto the ground, but he didn’t seem to be in pain. On the contrary—he seemed to be analyzing every change, every gasp, every contraction of the beast’s muscles.

A roar echoed, louder than before. The cow’s flesh stretched and tore in places, revealing reinforced muscle bundles and a strange gleam in its eyes. For the first time, there was something different there—not just anger, but… focus.

It slowly raised its head, staring at Vergil with an almost human expression.

“…Do you understand something?” he murmured.

The creature didn’t answer, but it didn’t immediately advance. Its eyes roamed over his body as if assessing… as if considering.

Rize chuckled softly. “Ah, she does understand.”

Vergil gave a small, satisfied “hm” and twirled Yamato in his left hand. “Then let’s test it.”

He advanced, and this time, the cow didn’t rush blindly into the attack.

It moved sideways, searching for an angle, its hooves digging into the ground with more precision. It wasn’t just instinct.

It was calculation.

Zuri glanced at Titiana. “I’m tired… of saying it’s impossible.”

“He’s much worse than fucking Lucifer,” Titania muttered nervously.