Chapter 533: Four that beco one.
The clash of the three forces was still reverberating when the roar ripped through the clearing.
It wasn’t just a sound. It was a blow. An impact so profound it shattered the air and shook the ground as if a monstrous heart had pulsed beneath the earth.
Everyone felt it.
Vergil was the first to react, his eyes widening in disbelief. The sound wasn’t just heard, but felt in his bones, in his blood, in his soul. He slowly turned his face, recognizing the timbre of that force.
“No…” he growled, spitting on the ground. “It can’t be that damned tigress…”
What t his eyes made him tighten his grip on his katana.
Amid the shattered trees, a colossal silhouette erged. White and gold patterns glead amid the chaos, and its feline eyes burned with an ancient fury. The beast he had sworn to hunt was there, staring not at him, but at the three dueling entities.
The roar echoed again.
And this ti, even Naberius—who laughed in the face of the apocalypse—gritted his teeth.
The wave that spread was different. It wasn’t just raw power, like fire or ice. It wasn’t just destruction. It was a cutting aura, as if every ounce of air had beco a blade aid at their throats.
Sapphire staggered, her magma titan wavering for a mont. Sepphirothy narrowed her eyes, maintaining her posture, but even she had to reinforce her defenses. Naberius, still laughing, took two steps back, surprised by the intensity.
Vergil reached for the hilt of his katana.
“That wretch…” he muttered, hatred choking him. “She ran from once, but she won’t run from again.”
But before he could move, sothing changed.
The tiger collapsed in the light, as if its own body had been shattered into fragnts of energy. The bestial form gradually reshaped itself into sothing human, elegant, lethal. When the glow dissipated, the clearing saw no longer the beast, but a woman.
Tall.
Black hair cascaded down her face, contrasting with the impeccable white of the kimono that molded her body. Her bare feet touched the broken stones of the forest as if they didn’t belong there.
Her gaze raked the three of them like a sharp blade.
A sigh escaped her lips, heavy, filled with weariness, as if the vision before her were an exhausting repetition of a past she didn’t want to relive.
“I’d love to see that…” she said, her voice low, but so clear it drowned out the roar of destruction. “A battle between three Demonic Primordials… White, Orange, and Red.”
The way she pronounced the titles made even Roxanne and Stella shiver. It was like hearing a forgotten prayer or a curse that shouldn’t be repeated.
“But…” the woman continued, looking up with icy determination.
“I will prevent a catastrophe from happening.”
The silence that followed was heavy.
Even the wind died.
Sapphire narrowed her eyes, red sparks escaping from her fists.
“Who the hell are you, bitch?” she snapped, her tone thick with anger and arrogance.
Naberius tilted his head, licking his lips as if savoring the tension.
“Ah… I like her already,” he murmured, chuckling softly. “So bold… so calm in the face of the abyss.”
Sepphirothy held his gaze, assessing him. Her aura didn’t waver, but there was a deeper rigidity in her shoulders. She recognized sothing in that presence. Perhaps not the woman herself, but the essence she exuded—as ancient as her own.
Virgílio, for his part, couldn’t contain himself.
He took two steps forward, katana raised, spitting the words like venom.
“You… damned tigress. You’ve run from before. Do you swear you’ll face now?”
The woman’s gaze finally fell on him.
It was like being pierced by an invisible sword. Vergil shivered, even without admitting it.
She didn’t answer imdiately. She just stared at him with cold, almost disinterested eyes. When she spoke, it was as if she cut each syllable into blades:
“Small predators have no right to roar in front of the Primordials.”
Vergil almost laughed.
Almost.
But the weight of those words closed his throat.
Rize, trembling, whispered to Titania:
“She… she called them Primordials… as if she were soone of equal standing…”
Titania, still on her knees, simply nodded, unable to articulate words.
The woman in the white kimono took a step forward. The ground didn’t shake. There were no flas or ice. There were no gusts of wind. But everyone felt the weight of her advance as if the world itself were being forced to bend.
Safira gritted her teeth and raised her fists.
“Are you going to stand in my way?”
Naberius laughed, delighted by the scene.
“You will, you will! I want to see this circus burn!”
Sepphirothy, on the other hand, finally raised her voice.
“Who are you?”
The question cut through the air like ice.
Everyone waited.
The woman looked at Sepphirothy. Her lips curved in a brief but warm smile.
“And why should I speak?” she questioned as her aura surged and… her head suddenly fell.
The woman’s head rolled, but didn’t hit the ground. Before anyone could react, her own hand caught her, lifting her as if she were a trivial object. The silence that followed was broken by a mocking voice, loud and full of triumph:
“I TOLD YOU I COULD BEAT THAT BASTARD! HAHAHAHA!”
Raphaeline appeared in the glare, her scythe still smoking from the execution. Beside her, Ada appeared, panting, her eyes wide at the absurdity.
“M-Mom!” Ada exclaid, patting him lightly on the back, almost desperately. “You shouldn’t have done that!”
Raphaeline only laughed, and the sound reverberated through the ruins like mocking thunder.
Vergil, already nervous, ran a hand over his face and let out a heavy sigh.
“Ah… fuck… right now…”
Before he could complain further, Raphaeline and Ada materialized in front of him. They both threw themselves into his arms without ceremony.
“Husband!” they exclaid together, pressing themselves against him.
Vergil, however, didn’t move a muscle to respond. His gaze was fixed straight ahead, beyond the grotesque scene of the woman clutching her own head. Sothing was wrong.
So wrong.
The air trembled.
He felt it. Three forces approaching, colliding directly with the body of that mysterious woman, like rivers of power flowing into a bottomless ocean.
First, the suffocating presence of a dragon, its roar echoing invisibly, charged with primordial destruction.
Then, the scorching, eternal heat of a phoenix, the undying fire that is infinitely reborn.
Finally, the relentless weight of a colossal turtle, the unshakable fortress that supported worlds.
These three currents of energy collided with the woman’s decapitated body.
And then…
The head, still in his hand, began to rise on its own. The dripping blood glowed, turning into golden flas. Bones aligned, muscles regenerated. Skin regenerated as if it had never been cut. Slowly, the head snapped back into place, fitting onto the neck with a dull snap.
She blinked.
A soft sigh escaped her lips as if nothing had happened.
Vergil’s eyes widened, and he muttered softly,
“…What the hell?”
Silence fell again, but this ti everyone was tense.
Sapphire took a half step back, her flas trembling. Sepphirothy narrowed her gaze, the air around her freezing like a reflection. Naberius rely licked his lips, fascinated.
Raphaeline raised her scythe, but for the first ti, she lost her laughter. Ada grabbed her hand nervously.
And the woman in the white kimono rely raised her face, now whole again, her eyes so cold they pierced like blades.
“Ah… being the guardian of this place gets on my nerves,” she said, running a hand through her dark hair.
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