Chapter 482: I can’t train, so they go.

“You two… were disappointing.”

Vany’s smile froze. Rize’s eyes blinked in disbelief.

Vergil took a step forward, his shadow lengthening as if to swallow them both.

“Flashy movements. Waste of energy. Unnecessary exposure to the enemy.” He looked at Vanny first. “Your punches are strong, yes. But you open your guard with each impact. Any intelligent enemy would have gone through your chest in seconds.”

Vany’s eyes widened, her fist still raised. She tried to protest:

“W-wait… I caused earthquakes! I—”

“Earthquakes that could have hit me too.” His voice crushed her, cold and without room for excuses. “Power without discipline is nothing but shouting.”

The blood boiled in her face. For the first time, Vanny felt the impact of a blow that came not from a monster, but from the words of the man she most wanted to impress.

Vergil then turned his gaze to Rize.

“And you…” His sharp eyes pierced her like daggers. “Your webs are precise. But you waste time playing. Whipping, slicing excessively, rotating your wrists to spread blood…” He sighed, as if boredom itself were greater than the carnage. “You forget that efficiency means finishing the enemy as quickly as possible.”

Rize frowned, for the first time losing her cool mask. “I wasn’t playing. I was demonstrating—”

“Vanity.” Vergil cut her off without hesitation. “You were more concerned with showing off than finishing the battle. That’s weakness.”

The silence fell again, heavy. Vanny bit her lip, furious with herself. Rize clenched her fists, her webs trembling as if to react, but her mind already understood that resisting his words was futile.

Titania sighed, crossing her arms.

“I warned you,” she murmured softly, only for Zuri to hear. “They always think screams and blood will win him praise.”

Zuri stared at Vergil, fascinated. His coldness, his cruelty in dismantling every detail… it made her understand why he was feared and revered at the same time.

Vergil lifted his chin, as if to pronounce a sentence:

“Strength isn’t enough. Technique isn’t enough. If they don’t learn to eliminate with precision, they’ll continue to be a burden.”

The words cut deeper than any blade.

Vany fell to her knees, her clenched fist hitting the ground, mixing with the blood around her. Her body trembled, not from weakness, but from frustration.

Rize turned her face away, swallowing hard. She wanted to argue, but she knew there was no way out: every word he said was true.

And while the two warriors struggled internally with their own humiliation, Vergil simply turned his back, walking calmly down the hill.

To him, the massacre hadn’t been a spectacle. Just unnecessary noise.

The ground still reeked of fresh blood when Vergil stood on the hill, his posture erect and his gaze sharp, as if already calculating each of their next ten moves.

“Continue,” he said, his voice low but full of order.

Vany, still kneeling, swallowed her pride and stood. Rize clenched her fists, taking a deep breath to contain her irritation. The two exchanged a quick glance, a mixture of rivalry and silent complicity, and without another word, they walked away across the red-stained field, positioning themselves to begin again.

Vergil walked over to an old, cleanly cut tree stump and sat down with the ease of a king on his throne. Yamato rested propped up beside him, motionless, yet carrying the aura of something alive.

Rize fired her webs like whips, but this time without flourish. Each strike was sharp, direct, a precise crack that tore off limbs or heads in a single movement. Vanny, for her part, adjusted her stance: fists clenched, feet firmly on the ground, short, violent punches that split the beasts in half without creating uncontrolled seismic waves.

The massacre continued, but now there was method. There was discipline.

Titania, arms crossed, approached Vergil, her eyes taking in the scene. For a moment, she couldn’t help but sigh.

“You’re being too hard on them,” she muttered, not even trying to hide her disapproval. “They are strong, but you seem more interested in breaking their spirit than training them.”

Vergil didn’t take his eyes off the two of them, watching every movement, every adjustment in real time. His expression remained cold, almost impassive.

“If their spirits were so fragile, they would have broken already,” he replied, with a slight hint of irony. “What I’m doing is polishing diamonds.”

Titania frowned, confused.

“Still… why so harsh? You speak as if time were short.”

Vergil finally looked at her, his eyes like blades that cut not just flesh, but intentions.

“Because this environment is too good to waste time on stupid competitions,” he said, then turned his attention to Vanny, who was splitting three beasts in half with direct, unvarnished blows. “They’re not training for themselves. They’re training to please me.”

The words hung in the air. Titania blinked in surprise.

“I don’t understand… shouldn’t this be a positive thing? If they want your recognition, isn’t that a sign of dedication?”

Vergil closed his eyes for a moment, as if weighing his words.

“Blind dedication doesn’t make warriors,” he replied firmly. “It makes obedient dogs. And dogs die quickly in battle.”

Zuri, who had remained silent until then, tilted her head curiously. “So… if it’s not to please you, what are they training for?”

Vergil gave a slight smile, cold and calculating. “To survive… and to kill better.”

The field filled with the dry sounds of bones snapping, limbs being torn off. Rize used her webs like blades, cutting cleanly, without the pointless show that had previously excited her so much. Vanny focused on the pure impact, not losing herself in uncontrolled tremors. Both were more restrained, but paradoxically more lethal.

Titania narrowed her eyes, still processing. “But… what exactly do you want from them?”

Vergil settled himself on the wooden stump, folding his hands on his knee. His voice sounded calm, but charged with absolute certainty.

“This forest is different,” he said, his gaze roaming the dark trees surrounding them. “It’s a natural training ground. Everything here… the air, the earth, the monsters… everything seems to shape the body and mind of those who fight. Every battle strengthens, every fall teaches.”

Titania stared at him seriously. “Then why aren’t you training? If the place is as powerful as you say, wouldn’t it be better to strengthen yourself?”

Vergil let out a short, dry, almost amused laugh.

“If I train…” he let the words fall heavily. “I think I can destroy all the potential of this place.”

Zuri arched an eyebrow, genuinely intrigued. “Destroy… the potential?”

Vergil nodded.

“My special physique and my presence alter the balance. What this forest provides is not infinite. It responds to those who strive to grow. But if I, at my level, pour my power here, I will drain all it can offer.” He spread his hands, as if revealing a secret no one else had noticed. “And that would be a waste.”

Titania still didn’t look convinced.

“So… you’re putting aside your own evolution just to train two disciples?”

Vergil smiled again, that cold smile that betrayed no joy, only conviction.

“Not disciples. Guards,” he said clearly. “I am forging two high-class beasts. Warriors who, when they finally reach their peak, will be worthy to stand by my side as shields and swords.”

He looked back at the field, where Rize and Vanny continued their slaughter, but now each blow was a lesson learned.

“The raw power you both possess needs form. And I am giving it form.”

Zuri crossed her arms, staring at him.

“So, deep down… this is all about building something only you understand.”

Vergil didn’t answer immediately. He simply closed his eyes and took a deep breath, as if savoring the sound of the methodical carnage before him.

When he spoke, his voice was almost a whisper: “It’s about building a legacy.”