Chapter 484: Something Strong (Part. II)

The silence of the forest grew increasingly suffocating, as if even the wind had decided to stop so as not to disturb what was to come. The tall leaves barely swayed, trapped in an eerie stillness, as invisible tension built around the group.

Vergil halted his march, standing like a statue in the middle of the trail. The ground creaked under the weight of the minimal movement, and the sound, though low, echoed like a drumbeat amidst the morbid silence. His hand didn’t go to Yamato, but his cold eyes narrowed, and the air around him seemed to freeze.

He turned his face slightly to Titania, who was still on his shoulder, her feet now motionless, her body rigid.

“How strong?” Vergil asked, his voice sharp, as if he wasn’t simply curious, but demanding precision.

Titania took a few seconds to answer. Her eyes vibrated as if reflecting something only she could see, and her breath was shallow.

“Everything you’ve killed so far in this forest…” she said, her voice small but firm. “Even adding all those creatures together wouldn’t have the power of what’s coming.”

The words weighed like molten iron on the air. Even Zuri, accustomed to turning anything into a joke, arched an eyebrow, straightening slightly against Vergil’s neck.

“That’s… worrying,” she admitted, her lips curving into a wry smile, but her voice carried something rare: a trace of seriousness.

Vergil, however, remained still, his eyes fixed straight ahead. Something was wrong, and it stirred an unease he didn’t usually feel. His presence usually picked up distortions, forces, even hostile intentions… but now, there was only a strange emptiness.

“Curious,” he murmured softly. “I don’t sense anything… just a distortion of energy. A broken space coming toward us. As if the very essence of the place were unraveling.”

This drew a surprised expression from Titania.

“So you feel it too,” she said softly, almost as if relieved not to be alone in this. “But it’s not just distortion, Vergil. This force is so ancient, so charged with malice, that it’s as if it’s fused with the forest. You don’t feel it because it’s the very air you breathe now.”

Ahead, Vanny and Rize exchanged glances, and the contrast in their personalities became clear. Vanny’s eyes shone like a child about to receive a bloody gift. She clenched her fists, cracking her knuckles with a savage smile.

“Finally,” she said, her voice vibrating with pure excitement. “It was getting boring. I want to see if this thing can handle my punches.”

Rize, in turn, smirked, her webs trembling in her fingers like the strings of an instrument about to play its first note.

“Something strong enough to silence even the fairy’s mouth… That’s promising.”

Titania, irritated, turned to the two.

“Be as idiotic as you like later. This is like nothing you’ve ever seen. One mistake could cost us all our lives.”

Vergil raised a hand, and the simple gesture made them both back away, not from fear, but from the weight of the order in his presence.

“You two, back,” he said, his voice cold and unmistakable. “Don’t you dare stand in front of this. The beast is not for you.”

Vany started to protest, but Vergil’s glare was enough to make her grit her teeth and, reluctantly, take a step back. Rize, more practical, merely inclined her head in an almost mocking nod, backing away gently.

The silence of the forest, previously merely eerie, became unbearable. It was like being inside a ruined cathedral, where every stone breathed and every shadow watched. And then, it came.

A weight.

Not sound, not sight, but a pressure. As if the air had turned to dense liquid and every breath would drown. Even the ground trembled, as if deeply buried roots tried to shrink from what was advancing.

And finally, from the shadows between the trees, a colossal presence moved. Slow, deliberate, each step echoing like the roll of muffled thunder. Leaves snapped, trunks creaked, and eyes emerged first.

Two red globes like glowing embers, burning in the darkness like torches from hell. There was no humanity there, only pure, raw, demonic savagery.

And then the entire body revealed itself.

A tiger. But not just any tiger.

The beast stood nearly ten feet tall from a low stance, its broad, muscular body covered in metallic gray fur that seemed to absorb the forest light. The black stripes were so deep they resembled gashes, scars etched into the flesh of the world. Every movement of its breath made its muscles throb, every fiber of the animal seemed made of pure, living steel.

The fangs, long and curved, gleamed like freshly sharpened blades. Saliva dripped from them, falling to the ground and corroding the moss like acid. The claws, sharp as swords, tore at the earth with each slow step, leaving deep, smoking furrows as if the ground itself rejected its presence.

But it wasn’t just its appearance. It was its feel.

The beast carried a demonic aura so intense it seemed to overflow like miasma. The air around it vibrated, distorted, as if the world could no longer support its weight. There was a smell of burning iron, of crushed bones, a stench of ancient blood that seemed to come from forgotten ages.

Titania gasped, her eyes wide, her small body trembling even against Vergil’s calculated stillness.

“So that’s it…” she murmured, almost voiceless. “A Superior Demonic Beast… no, calling her Superior is an understatement… She must be on par with a Demon King.”

The tiger roared.

It wasn’t a sound. It was a wave.

The roar ripped through the forest like living thunder, vibrating through the trees, the ground, the bones. Leaves cascaded, roots trembled, and even the air seemed to shatter, leaving invisible cracks in the space.

Vanny took a half step back, not out of fear, but out of pure physical reaction to the sonic impact. She smiled even wider, her eyes flashing.

“Yes…” she growled in response. “That’s what I wanted to feel.”

Rize, panting softly, reached out, her webs flapping frantically, as if instinctively responding to the monstrosity’s call.

“Vergil…” Zuri murmured, her voice for the first time free of mockery, simply laced with tension. “This isn’t just a strong beast. This monster… it’s emanating a lot of spite… demonic beasts don’t show spite.”

Vergil didn’t respond immediately. His eyes fixed on the creature, impassive, but deep inside he recognized it: this wasn’t just another beast. This was a direct challenge, a test shaped by hell itself.

He let out a low, almost imperceptible sigh and reached for Yamato, the metal whispering as it left its sheath.

“Okay,” he said, cold but firm. “Stay behind me. I’ll handle this… I really needed to train.”