Vergil walked along a narrow, dirt path winding through the trees, his cloak torn at the edges and blood dried along his sleeves. He winced with each step, the battle with the Goremire King still fresh in his aching muscles. The scent of scorched bark and lingering mana hung in the air like the aftermath of a storm.
The quiet hum of the forest had returned—too calm, too peaceful after what he'd just survived.
He looked at the system and pulled out the core he got from their king.the faint pulse of the Astralyth core vibrated softly, syncing with his mana. It was warm to the touch. Alive, almost.
Vergil exhaled slowly, his breath curling into the cold air.
The horizon shimmered faintly with the fading light of dusk, and Vergil's eyes narrowed at the sight of Vaelmont's rooftops coming into view. His steps remained steady, but his expression was stone—cold and unreadable. In his hand, the Astralyth core pulsed faintly, like a heart that refused to die.
"I need to get this refined as soon as possible…" he muttered under his breath, his voice low and sharp like drawn steel.
The forest around him was calm—eerily so. No howls. No monsters lurking in the shadows. Just wind brushing against dead leaves and the distant sound of birds fleeing the treetops.
No interruptions this time. No chaos. No screaming system.
Just peace—
[I'm back.]
Vergil flinched slightly, his eye twitching. "Goddammit… why now?"
[Didn't you miss me?]
"You only talk after the fight, you were knowhere to be seen, when that demon chased me."
[I was giving you the full immersive experience. Besides, look at you now—still breathing. Dont be a bitch about it.]
"Tch."
[Oh don't be such a sore loser. You know what they say—'all's well that ends well.' Even if you ran like a little puss—]
Vergil snapped, "I didn't run. I retreated tactically to survive."
[Mhm. Retreating with style. Got it.]
Vergil rolled his eyes and kept walking.
[On the bright side, your little bonding trip with Eleanor seems to be going well, just so you know, when your relationship reaches rank 3, then the benefits will come rolling it..]
"…Yeah," he said smoothly, nonchalantly. "It is."
[Oho? And what's that supposed to mean?]
Vergil didn't stop walking. His tone dipped, colder than before. "She's useful. Talented. And willing to listen. Useful for a pawn."
[Suuuure. But are you sure you won't develop feelings?]
He paused briefly, just enough to glance down at his hand before resuming his stride. "Feelings?" he repeated, voice hollow. "Emotions are distractions. Vulnerabilities wrapped in sentiment. I don't have the luxury of wasting energy on something that won't help me reach the top."
[Yeesh. Ice cold.]
"We're using each other. That's all. She needs her revenge. I need someone who I can use." His jaw tightened. "When we're done, our paths will split. That's how it should be."
[Even if she wanted more?]
"She won't." His eyes narrowed. "Because I won't let her, I will make it clear when the time comes."
The system went silent for a moment.
[You know… most people build connections to feel alive, not more alone.]
"I don't need to feel alive," Vergil said, his voice flat and final. "I just need to win... and become the strongest."
[Whatever you say]
With that, Vergil left.
The eerie silence of the forest followed him like a ghost, broken only by the crunch of dead leaves underfoot and the soft pulse of the Astralyth core still faintly glowing in his hand. The light had faded to a deep orange now, bleeding into twilight as the rooftops of Vaelmont finally came into full view.
By the time he reached the inn, the sky had turned indigo, and lamps flickered to life along the cobbled streets, casting long shadows between the buildings. Vergil pushed open the inn's door with a creak, barely sparing a glance toward the other patrons. They looked up briefly—taking note of his ragged cloak, torn sleeves, and dried blood—before wisely turning their eyes away.
He dropped a few bronze coins on the counter and climbed the stairs to his room
The moment the door shut behind him, he exhaled and leaned against it, his body finally allowing the exhaustion to set in. Every joint throbbed, his shoulders screamed, and the dull ache in his back reminded him of the demon's slash way too fondly.
He stripped all his clothes off across the floor before stepping into the bath he'd prepared with a flick of Ember blaze, The tub was small, the water lukewarm—but it was clean.
Vergil lowered himself into the water with a hiss.
Steam curled around him, and for the first time since the Goremire King, his muscles loosened slightly. He sank deeper into the tub, arms hanging over the rim, hair slicked back and clinging to his neck.
The room was quiet. Too quiet.
He stared at the ceiling for a long time, the dim candlelight flickering against the wooden walls.
And then—
[You missed a spot.]
"…I will drown myself just to shut you up."
[Worth it.]
Vergil closed his eyes, ignoring the voice.
Tomorrow, he'd check on Eleanor.
Tomorrow, he'd keep walking toward whatever hell waited next.
But tonight… just a bath and refining the core... maybe in 5 minutes
And silence.
For now.
When Vergil emerged from the bath, clean and composed, he slipped into the extra set of clothes he'd picked up on the way back—an extra-fitted charcoal-gray tunic with reinforced leather padding, dark flexible trousers, and a sleeveless forest-gray cloak stitched with utility loops. Sturdy black boots completed the set—practical and built for survival.
He ran a hand through his damp black hair, fastened the last buckle, and stepped onto the balcony.
The evening air was cool. Quiet.
Sure, here's a refined and more detailed version of the scene with the absorption process:
Vergil stepped back inside, the door closing with a dull thud behind him. From his inventory, he retrieved the Astralyth Core—the pulsing, faintly glowing mass of crystallized energy radiating with residual power. Holding it in his palm, he stared at it for a moment, expression unreadable.
"Let's refine this thing," he muttered, settling down cross-legged on the floor.
'I'll use half to push my circle forward… the rest goes to the mana organ.'
He placed the core before him.
"Authority of Predation."
Black, spectral mouths tore open in the air—fangs bared, swirling with hunger—and devoured the core with vicious, silent gulps. As the crystal was consumed, a torrent of raw Astralyth energy surged into his body, rushing through his veins like wildfire.
Vergil's breath hitched, then steadied.
Inhale—he drew the energy inward, guiding it toward his Mana Heart, the core of his internal magic system.
Exhale—he compressed it, letting the pressure build with controlled force.
Inhale—he focused his will, directing the energy deep into the center of the mana organ.
Exhale—he refined it, filtering out impurities as mana took form.
Each breath pulsed with strain as his Mana Heart beat louder, the sound pounding in his ears like war drums. Pain coiled in his chest, sharp and hot, but he gritted his teeth and held.
[Mana Heart Proficiency has reached 76%]
[Mana Capacity has increased by 20]
A faint glow radiated from within him. He didn't pause.
"Time to switch…"
Vergil shifted the flow of energy, directing it now to the mana circle coiled within his Mana Heart. The process was slower, more intricate.
Inhale—he pulled mana into the ring of power at his core.
Exhale—he compressed it tightly, slowly expanding the arcane structure.
Inhale—he focused, letting it stretch under controlled tension.
Exhale—he refined the structure, reinforcing the foundations.
[Mana Circle Proficiency: 41%… 42%… 44%…]
[Magic power increased by 5]
The circle glowed faintly inside him, energized, strengthened. Astralyth energy continued pouring in, its flow intense but bearable now.
[Mana Circle Proficiency: 60%]
[Magic power increased by 5]
[User has acquired the skill: Verdant Core (E+)]
Vergil exhaled sharply, a cold mist escaping his lips. His heart still thundered, but the pain had dulled into a deep, rhythmic hum.
"...That'll do."
He opened his eyes, their sharp glow simmering in the dim light—stronger, colder, more focused than before.
'Combination' the blue panel appeared before him
"Combine greater Regeneration Core and the Verdant Core" Vergil said
[Combining skills...Combination Successful.
[New Skill Acquired: Verdant Regeneration Core (C-)]
Grants advanced passive regeneration capable of healing deep wounds, internal damage, and minor limbs (fingers, toes, ears, tails) over time.
Minor limb regeneration is possible even during combat, though it consumes stamina. The cost is reduced when surrounded by natural flora or ambient mana.
Regular wounds heal with speed and efficiency, and stamina usage is significantly reduced compared to lower-tier regeneration skills.
Passively draws mana from the environment to fuel regeneration and reduce overall strain.
Provides moderate resistance to bleeding, toxins, infections, and effects related to decay.
Note: Full limb regeneration (arms, legs) is not possible.
[Visual Effect: When regenerating, faint green veins glow beneath the skin, and ghostly vines or leaves briefly bloom along wounds before fading.]
Vergil sat in silence, feeling the changes settle into his body like coals smoldering beneath his skin. The warmth wasn't comforting—it was potent, alive. The kind of heat that promised survival through attrition.
"Not bad…" he muttered, flexing his fingers as green energy briefly pulsed along his arm, then vanished. "Very not bad."
[That sentence doesn't even fucking make sense you donut]
Vergil ignored him and continued
[Next Objective: Tough Body—Proficiency: 45% (F+)]
"Almost there," he murmured, eyes narrowing. "Let's speed this up."
Without hesitation, he opened his skill interface and began trimming the fat.
"Sacrifice Mycelial Armor, Screeching Dive, Wailing Howl, and Limb Burst."
[40 F+ Rank Evolution Points Gained.]
"I already had 10 F+ so this should be enouhjt to get it to the brink."
[50 F+- Evolution Points used on 'Tough Body'.]
['Tough Body' proficiency increased to 95%.]
"Good."
Vergil s, grabbed his old dagger from his inventory. Without flinching, he drove the blade into the palm of his own hand.
A sharp hiss left his lips.
"Shit. Still hurts."
There was resistance—slight, but noticeable. The blade struggled more than before to pierce the flesh. As he withdrew it, the wound began closing before his eyes. Skin knitted together, muscle reformed, and a soft green pulse ran along the veins before fading entirely.
He stared at the fully-healed palm for a moment, expression unreadable… then allowed a faint smirk to tug at the corner of his mouth.
"Tch. That's more like it."
He flexed his hand, feeling the lingering warmth of regeneration hum beneath the skin like a second heartbeat.
"The difference in Tough Body is subtle… but it's there. Skin's tougher, nerves dulled just enough to give me that edge. And as long as I'm not losing limbs or getting my guts liquefied, I won't die from the usual bullshit."
He exhaled, calm now. Collected.
With Verdant Regeneration Core backing him, he could afford to take more risks. Survive worse. Push harder.
Vergil turned toward the window as dusk bled into night, green light flickering briefly in his eyes.
"…Not bad."
But it was a damn good start.
Vergil stretched his shoulders, muscles tight and worn after the long day. The hum of residual mana from the earlier refinement still lingered beneath his skin, pulsing faintly like a second heartbeat.
"Six more days…" he muttered, his voice low, almost to himself, as he loosened his belt and set his coat over the chair.
'One more mission tomorrow—just enough to keep sharp. The rest of the days, I'll train with Elvira. More magic theory, spell refinement, and maybe—just maybe—I'll push into that second circle.'
He slid down onto the bed, silent and steady. Boots off. Sword nearby. Always within reach. The weight of his body sank into the mattress, tension bleeding out little by little.
"For now… sleep."
He closed his eyes as the last glow of lanternlight flickered across the wooden walls. Outside, Vaelmont had gone quiet—no monsters, no chaos, no system commentary. Just the hush of wind and faint village life in the distance.
Finally, peace.
—
An hour later, the door eased open without a sound.
Eleanor stepped inside, her expression unreadable, as always. Her long white hair was still damp, falling in loose strands over her shoulders, and her violet eyes scanned the room in a single glance. Sharp. Calculating.
Cold.
She closed the door behind her with a soft click, removed her boots without a word, and set her satchel beside the bed.
Vergil was already asleep, his breathing slow and even, arm draped just barely over the edge of the mattress. He looked less guarded like this, and she stared for a moment longer than she meant to.
She said nothing.
She lay down beside him without making a sound, facing away, keeping a small distance between them—but not too much.
There was no warmth in her expression. No softness in her tone. But she didn't choose the other bed. She didn't leave the room.
And that was something.
Her violet eyes closed.
The silence between them wasn't comfortable, but it wasn't cruel either. It simply existed. Like two wolves sharing the same fire—untrusting, scarred, but tired of the cold.
She didn't speak. Neither did he.
But as sleep pulled them both under, the space between them slowly disappeared.