Chapter 488: That tiger… wasn’t even being truthful.

The tiger was saturated with energy. With each clash between Vergil and the tiger, the forest trembled as if ancient roots were trying to escape the violence. The beast’s roar reverberated, and Vergil responded with blows that were no longer his own—they were stolen lessons, adapted, refined. With each exchange, the battlefield became a stage where predator and predator molded one another.

Vergil panted, sweat dripping from his forehead to his chin. His body no longer felt human in his control: muscles vibrating in overload, eyes sharp as blades. And yet, something was wrong. He could feel it.

The tiger, despite its overwhelming presence, didn’t seem to be fighting with all its might. There was a concealed calm in its movements, as if it were merely observing him, like a patient tutor watching an eager student. It gnawed at him.

With a final leap, Vergil slashed in an arc with the Yamato, silvery-blue energy ripping through space. The tiger recoiled, the ground shaking from the impact. Vergil took a deep breath, his body throbbing.

“Enough,” he growled, his voice deep, steeped in pent-up fury. His eyes bored into the beast’s red ones. “You’re not taking this seriously…”

The hand gripping the scabbard trembled. “Reveal yourself,” he demanded, his teeth clenched.

The silence that followed was suffocating. The wind died, the birds fell silent. Even the whisper of the forest seemed to hold its breath. Then, slowly, the creature before him began to change.

The tiger’s silhouette trembled, distorted like water in the heat. Muscles twitched, bones shifted shape, stripes dissolving into white veils. The roar became a soft sigh, and soon, where once a colossal beast stood, a female figure now appeared.

Vergil narrowed his eyes, his breathing heavy.

She stood tall and imposing, as if the forest itself had shaped her. The white dress sculpted her body like ivory, adorned with silver embroidery and translucent veils that shimmered like dew in the moonlight. Silver and turquoise chains wrapped around her waist and shoulders, falling into ornaments that gleamed delicately yet dangerously. Her long, black hair cascaded down like a waterfall of ink until it nearly touched the ground, the strands dancing in the wind that didn’t exist.

At her hip rested a sword with a dark, ornate hilt, as elegant as it was lethal. Her long, delicate fingers touched it as if holding something that’s already part of her body. Her eyes were serene, but they held the same predatory intensity as the beast she’d been seconds ago.

Vergil’s eyes widened for a moment, before anger took over. “You were joking with me.” His voice was icy, but trembling with indignation. “You’re a warrior.”

The woman smiled, not cruelly, but like someone watching a child come to an obvious conclusion. That smile irritated Vergil even more.

“I am a tiger,” she said, her voice soft but firm, with the same gravity as the beast’s roar. “I fought with my original form.”

She lifted her hand and smoothed her arm, observing the chains and adornments as if they were irrelevant. Then she looked at Vergil, her eyes flashing.

“This here…” She touched her dress, her hair, her pale, flawless skin. “…is merely a gift I received from the forest.”

Vergil felt a shiver run down his spine. Her human form wasn’t a sham, but neither was it a choice. It was the forest itself that had shaped her this way, an echo of the ancient energy of that forgotten land.

“Gift”…” Vergil spat the word with contempt. “So that was it. While I struggled, while I risked my body to keep up with you… you were just testing me, like watching an animal learn to walk.”

She tilted her head, her long hair bouncing.

“You’re not wrong,” she replied without hesitation. “Strength isn’t in how hard you strike, but in how much you endure and evolve. I merely offered encouragement.”

Vergil clenched his fists. The Yamato vibrated slightly in his hand, as if responding to its owner’s fury. The cold gleam in his eyes now burned.

“I don’t need a tutor,” he said, his voice deep, like steel dragging on marble. “If you’re a warrior, then fight like one.”

The woman smiled again, but this time her gaze glinted with something different. Not condescension, but interest.

“Do you truly desire this?” she asked, sliding her fingers over the scabbard of the sword strapped to her waist. “Then so be it, half-demon.”

A metallic clink echoed as she released the blade from its sling. The sword, slender and elegant, gleamed in the filtered light of the forest. Her posture changed: shoulders straight, feet positioned precisely, the blade pointing slightly toward the ground, as if she had mastered a hundred styles before even raising her arm.

Vergil took a deep breath. His heart was racing, but not from fear. It was excitement. This was different. A beast he could crush. But a warrior? She could elevate him.

The energies intensified. Her demonic aura, once instinctive and animal, was now honed, like a wild river transformed into a precise, controlled current. Vergil responded with his own energy, the cutting blue of his essence spreading across the ground, cracking it.

Titania, Zuri, Rize, and Vanny watched in silence, all tense. The weight of this exchange was unbearable, as if two worlds about to collide had chosen this particular spot in the forest as their arena.

Vergil raised the Yamato, the blade ringing in harmony with his fury.

“Now, show me… your true strength.”

She smiled, her red lips contrasting with the flawless pallor of her skin.

“Very well, impatient student. Let us dance.”

And then the two of them vanished at speed.

The air exploded with the clash of swords. The woman’s blade moved like water, fluid, adaptable, but each cut carried the weight of a beast. Vergil responded with relentless precision, clean, crisp cuts, each movement seeking to disarm, break, destroy.

But she was different from the tiger. There was no redundancy, no blind fury. Her every gesture was measured, as if she’d had millennia of practice. Vergil felt pressured, not by brute force, but by absolute refinement.

“She was toying with me…” he thought, furious, but also excited. “This… is true combat.”

The forest burned with the exchange. Trees were cut in half by deflected blows, stones shattered by the mere clash of energies. And in the center, Vergil and the tiger-woman spun in a ballet of death, their blades slashing bright lines through the air.

With each block, each slip, Vergil learned more. But he also felt: she still had layers. She wasn’t fighting with everything.

And it consumed him.

“REVEAL YOURSELF FULLY!” he roared, thrusting with brute force, the Yamato glowing a piercing blue.

The woman merely smiled, dodging with the ease of someone gliding through flower petals. “Calm down, half-demon. You haven’t finished learning yet.”