Capítulo 613: End of Event
The impact of the Judgnt Cut End still vibrated in the air—not just in the arena, but in the very fabric of reality. The dinsional tear remained as a glowing scar floating in space, a silent testant to sothing that shouldn’t exist.
A cut capable of rupturing a dinsion.
A feat incomprehensible even to gods.
The demonic energy in the environnt still dispersed, like cosmic dust seeking a place to rest after being molded beyond possibility.
It was, at first glance, a dinsional blow.
But it wasn’t just that.
Vergil had manipulated the very existence of demonic energy, using every fragnt present in the world—as fulcrums, as lines of tension—to weave an impossible blow.
Shiva watched in silence.
He had seen transcendental attacks, ancient techniques, forbidden arts.
Nothing compared.
The mind of the god of destruction replayed the movent repeatedly, analyzing each microscopic cut, each fold of space. The more she saw, the less she understood.
‘That lunatic…’ thought Shiva, unable to contain her bitter admiration.
But it wasn’t him who stepped forward.
It was Susanoo, the Goddess of Storms.
Her eyes were fixed on the spot where Ryōn had ceased to exist—not in horror, but in pure fascination.
For her, that was the pinnacle.
Not just of demonic technique.
But of swordsmanship.
The beginning and end of a supre art—the absolute expression of a swordsman who, by all divine standards, should have spent ages perfecting himself.
And yet, the boy was twenty years old.
She couldn’t contain herself.
“When did you create this?” Her voice cut through the silence, impatient, hungry for understanding.
Vergil, still with his hand resting on Ada, turned to the goddess as if the matter were obvious.
“Now.” Susanoo narrowed her eyes, disbelief tearing across her face.
“That’s impossible.” No emotional wavering, just the cold truth of a deity who knew the weight of the ages. “Techniques like that aren’t born in minutes.”
Vergil raised an eyebrow, indifferent to the astonishnt around him.
He didn’t explain.
He didn’t soften his stance.
He didn’t justify himself.
He simply repeated, with the sa tranquility he had when executing the strike… “I created it now.”
And for the first ti, the gods realized:
He wasn’t boasting.
It was simply the truth.
Vergil took a deep breath, as if tearing through a dinsion, reducing a champion to nothing, and plunging the entire pantheon into absolute silence were just another tedious detail of the day.
He gently adjusted Ada beside him with unexpected delicacy, while the demonic energy surrounding him subsided, converging into a tense calm—the calm of a volcano that had simply decided not to erupt today.
“I’m leaving,” he said, with the nonchalance of soone who had just finished a casual training session. “I expect you all at the tournant.”
He turned to walk toward the exit, already leaving the fragnted arena behind.
But Yama’s voice burst forth, laden with rage, disbelief, and… sothing else.
“YOU KILLED A COMPETITOR!” She took a step forward, the ground beneath her feet trembling with the pressure of her aura. “That’s a direct violation of the—”
Vergil stopped.
Not abruptly, but with the calculated slowness of a predator who had sensed sothing unsettling behind him.
The entire arena seed to hold its breath.
His shadow distorted on the ground, growing larger, as if trying to rise from the surface and materialize.
He turned only his face.
That alone was enough to make the atmosphere collapse into absolute silence.
His blue eyes cut through Yama like blades sharp enough to split worlds.
“Now shut up,” he said, his voice low, without raising his tone. “And be grateful I didn’t kill you, you bitch.”
It was as if thunder had struck the center of the arena, but without sound.
Only impact.
Yama took a half-step back, his eyes trembling—not from the insult, but from the sudden and terrifying realization that he was telling the truth.
That he could, that he wanted to, and that only a montary choice had stopped him.
“Finally, Brynhildr, could you take on the Byfrost back to the Biblical Underworld? I need to prepare to win the Celestial Tournant,” he asks, looking at the beautiful Valkyrie.
The last particles of Judgnt Cut End still floated in the air, like stardust searching for where to fall, when Vergil simply… changed.
In the blink of an eye.
A mont before, he was the very embodint of calamity—the man who split a dinsion, who threatened a goddess like one threatens an insect.
The next… he looked like soone who had just woken from a good night’s sleep.
He turned to Brynhildr with a quiet, almost gentle half-smile.
“Finally, Brynhildr, could you take on the Bifröst back to the Biblical Underworld? I need to prepare to win the Celestial Tournant.”
A collective silence crackled.
Not a tense silence—but a stunned, complete silence.
It was like watching a cataclysm transform into a sunset in the blink of an eye.
Brynhildr, accustod to armies, battles, storms, and blood… froze.
She truly froze.
The blush rose up her cheeks so quickly that even her armor seed to heat up.
He was… too handso.
Not the destructively handso of before—the cold-eyed predator.
Now it was sothing worse.
The slight smile, the gentle, almost casual tone.
The contrast between the absolute demon and the tranquil man.
A charm that dismantled defenses that not even gods had foreseen needing.
Ada, beside him, narrowed her eyes slowly, very slowly, staring at the Valkyrie with that typical “keep looking like that and I’ll rip your head off” expression.
Brynhildr noticed.
She almost choked on her own breath, straightened her posture, and cleared her throat, the blush still there, but now trying to appear professional.
“Of course… it’s… it’s better if we go outside. The Bifröst doesn’t open inside the arena.”
Her voice faltered on the first word, and Ada shot a deadly look.
Brynhildr straightened her posture even more, as if she were about to faint from tension. Vergil simply nodded, smiling as if he hadn’t noticed a thing.
But before they could take a step, a voice echoed loudly.
“Wait a second.”
Shiva.
The god of destruction walked towards Vergil with his usual composure, but there was sothing different—a faint gleam of sincere respect.
Sothing rare.
He stopped in front of the boy and, without any ceremony, threw sothing.
Vergil caught it easily:
a small crystalline core, dark as obsidian and pulsating with energy.
“When you want to beco stronger,” said Shiva, with a smile that only a warrior of ages could give, “look for . Kali will enjoy fighting with you.”
The air seed to ripple.
Everyone knew what that ant.
Shiva didn’t invite anyone into his domain.
And Kali… well, those who knew, knew.
Vergil kept the core naturally.
“Thank you. As soon as the tournant is over, I’ll stop by your pantheon.”
He said it like soone promising to visit a friend for coffee—and Shiva smiled even wider.
“I’ll hold you to that.”
But it wasn’t just Shiva.
Another voice, firm and charged with electricity, erged from behind him.
“And so do I.”
Susanoo crossed her arms, standing there with that air of an impatient warrior.
Her eyes still burned with the mory of the blow.
“If you want to improve your sword techniques, go to Japan after the tournant.”
She pointed to the ground, as if marking a point on a map.
“Go through the yokai gate and find . If you’re willing to train seriously… I can transform your blade into sothing that even the heavens will fear.”
The entire arena seed to tremble again—not because of the technique, but because of the idea.
The Goddess of Storms had just invited a demon to learn her ancient techniques. Vergil simply smiled.
“After the tournant, I’ll stop by there too.”
Susanoo raised an eyebrow, surprised by the promptness of the reply.
But in the end… he smiled back.
He wasn’t being arrogant.
He was just telling the truth.
**
And then sothing almost comical happened:
Everyone present—gods, valkyries, warriors, even Hades and Wukong—
watched Vergil as if observing an incomprehensible natural phenonon.
Two minutes before, he was an existential threat.
A monster that tore dinsions apart.
The presence that made Yama recoil like a warned child.
Now…
Now he seed just a relaxed, almost charming young man, with a gentle smile and a tranquility that made anyone forget that he had just erased soone from existence.
Wukong was the first to laugh.
“That boy is really dangerous…” he murmured, chuckling softly. “And the worst part is that half of us here are starting to like him.”
Hades crossed his arms, trying to maintain composure, but definitely intrigued.
Even Shiva tilted his head as if trying to understand how that boy could alternate between cataclysm and good humor so quickly.
Ada, anwhile…
Ada was just holding his arm tightly, ready to stab with her gaze anyone who stared too long.
Brynhildr, still blushing, involuntarily saluted—not because it was necessary, but because it was the only way to keep her body functioning.
“Let’s go outside,” she repeated, more firmly now.
Vergil nodded, holding Ada’s hand.
“Okay. Let’s go.”
And so he began to walk out of the arena, surrounded by incredulous, respectful, fearful… so even admiring glances.
Part of absolute calamity.
…
“Friend,” Katharina said, looking at her cell phone, where there were several pictures of Vergil and Ada together.
“I…” Roxanne tried to say sothing but didn’t even know how to react to the various comnts about Vergil on supernatural social dia. She had been reading for an hour about Vergil causing enormous chaos and threatening Yama with death…
They didn’t even know it yet, but… Vergil killed a God while they were at ho wasting ti on social dia.
“Rox…” Katharia said and showed a photo… “This isn’t…”
Roxanne’s gaze turned very nervous… “Why the hell is a Valkyrie blushing near our husband?”
The “Whores near Vergil” alert started beeping in both Katharina and Roxanne.
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