Capítulo 634: Keep your letters.
Vergil clenched his fingers, cracking his knuckles—not out of necessity, but because his body needed so outlet for the violence it wanted to unleash.
The na Dante still resonated like poison on his tongue.
Sapphire kept her hand firmly on his arm, feeling the electric tension coursing through every fiber of her husband’s body. She didn’t try to calm him—Sapphire knew Vergil didn’t need calm; he needed control. And he was, little by little, regaining it.
Wukong watched him with a worried half-smile, his golden eyes assessing every oscillation of his demonic aura, as if tracing invisible mathematical formulas from the energy’s behavior.
Vergil finally took a deep breath.
And the aura, once devastating, receded like a cloak folded over his shoulders.
When he spoke, his voice had returned to the icy, precise tone everyone knew.
“Fortunately,” Vergil said, straightening his posture. “Dante is just an imbecile who doesn’t pose any real problem.”
Sapphire released the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.
Wukong blinked, surprised not by the insult, but by the absolute confidence in his voice.
Vergil continued:
“He’s loud, unstable, thinks he belongs on a bigger chessboard than he actually does. He just chased after cheap power thinking he could impress Spectro…” Vergil’s eyes moved, cold as blades. “And we both know how that ended.”
Sapphire frowned slightly, but didn’t interrupt.
“But one thing intrigues ,” Vergil added, leaning forward a little. “Wukong… how the hell did you find out about this? His na, the deal, the origin, the energy, all so quickly?”
Wukong took another sip of tea, as if to say “finally asked.”
She shrugged, simply, casually, as if talking about the weather:
“Well, Vergil… the Yama underworld is full of the Jade Emperor’s mouths and ears.”
Silence fell.
Sapphire’s eyes widened slightly.
Vergil clenched his jaw slightly.
Wukong put down his cup, smiled slightly, and added, with a mischievous—but now clearly serious—glint in his golden eyes:
“And you know how heaven is: when they want to know sothing, they know. Even if you don’t want them to.”
She leaned back on the sofa, crossing her legs elegantly and dangerously comfortably.
“So… if I were you, Little Demon King…” she raised an eyebrow. “I’d prepare myself.”
“Because Yama doesn’t just have a new competitor.”
“It has soone who received help from one of the most nosy and inconvenient beings in history.”
Vergil ran a hand over his face, taking another deep breath.
“…Great,” he murmured. “Exactly what I needed today.”
Sapphire growled softly: “I want to rip that Dante’s head off.”
Wukong grinned. “Get in line, Fireberry. Get in line.”
Sapphire stepped forward, already raising her chin like a feline ready to pounce.
“In line? I don’t stand in line for anyone.”
Wukong arched an eyebrow, his tail wagging again in an irritatingly provocative rhythm.
“Oh, sure. The magnificent First Demon Queen, destroyer of armies, terror of the angelic hosts…” She made a theatrical gesture with her hand. “And yet you still lose to in training.”
The air around Sapphire grew warr—literally.
“I’ve never lost to you.”
“Yes, you have.” “Lost where?! Show ONCE.”
Wukong snapped his fingers and pointed to the ceiling.
“In the last training session. Fifth-floor training field. You took such a nasty trip that you sank the floor.”
Sapphire opened her mouth, indignant.
“That doesn’t count! You were invisible!”
“My skill. Your fault.”
Vergil massaged the bridge of his nose. Viviane watched everything in silence, with the serene expression of soone who had already accepted that she would never have a normal day in her life.
Sapphire crossed her arms, huffing. “You always had an advantage with those annoying skills of yours.”
Wukong lifted her finger from the cup.
“And you always had an advantage because you were… well…” She gestured up and down, indicating Sapphire’s entire body. “…a walking explosion.”
Sapphire gave a crooked smile. “At least I don’t have to turn into a monkey to fight.”
Wukong slamd his cup on the table so hard that Vergil almost intervened.
“I DON’T ‘turn into a monkey.’ I am the culmination of nine perfect divine forms—”
“You do turn into a monkey.” Sapphire finished.
“I don’t.”
“Yes, you do.”
“Sapphire.”
“Golden monkey.”
Wukong’s tail stiffened. Sapphire smiled victoriously.
Vergil only murmured sothing like “please…”, but clearly no one heard.
Wukong finally stood up, pointing his finger at Sapphire. “If you want to settle this RIGHT NOW, I’ll open a portal to the arena.”
Sapphire was already taking a step forward, her eyes burning like embers. “Great! That way I can break you before breakfast.”
Viviane coughed softly. “Ladies. The kitchen has just been renovated. I’d prefer the structure to remain intact for at least forty-eight hours.”
They both turned to her at the sa ti. “…Sorry, Viviane.”
Vergil let out a sigh that seed to have been held back for weeks.
Vergil ran a hand through his hair, adjusting his shirt collar as if putting his mask of rationality back in place. The emotional chaos between Sapphire and Wukong still flickered in the air—two forces of nature snarling at each other, but clearly incapable of truly hating each other. It was just the kind of rivalry that made his life more… full.
He took a deep breath, letting the aura finally settle.
“Enough,” he said finally, in a firm tone that made them both straighten their posture. “Useless argunts won’t solve anything.”
Sapphire crossed her arms, Wukong adjusted his tail, and Viviane sighed in silent relief.
Vergil straightened his posture and declared,
“I’m going to prepare for the tournant.”
Silence fell for a fraction of a second—and incredibly, it was respected.
Sapphire opened her mouth slightly, genuine surprise lighting up her eyes. “You… are really going to be so carefree?”
“It’s inevitable.” Vergil stared at both of them, but spoke mostly to himself. “If Dante really managed to get so kind of outside support, and if Yama is pulling the strings… I’m just going to destroy them again, it won’t be the first or the last ti. I need to dictate the pace.”
Wukong tilted her head, her smile fading until it beca sothing more serious and calculated. Her golden eyes shone with a respect she rarely offered.
“So you finally decided to enter the ga,” she said, crossing her arms. “It was about ti.”
Sapphire placed a hand on her hip. “Vergil doesn’t enter any ga. He creates his own board.”
Wukong snorted a short laugh. “Yes, yes, Sweetheart. But even those who create the board need to know how to bluff.”
Vergil raised an eyebrow. “And that ans…?”
aning that he already knew sothing annoying was coming.
Wukong twirled his finger in the air, as if tracing an invisible symbol. “Want to compete for real? Then learn one thing: tournants like this are basically diplomatic wars with permitted coups. Everyone lies, hides, disguises, manipulates.”
She patted Vergil’s arm—which would normally result in a death threat, but this ti he let it go.
“You need to hide your abilities as much as possible.”
Sapphire’s eyes widened. “WHAT? Him? Hiding abilities? The man shines brighter than a demonic cot!”
Vergil looked at her, half offended, half… aware that it was true.
“Thank you, I guess.”
“That wasn’t a complint,” Sapphire retorted. “It’s impossible to ignore you in an arena.”
Wukong raised a finger. “That’s precisely why he needs to have tricks up his sleeve. This tournant will be full of overconfident idiots… and overly dangerous people who think they know Vergil. And honestly?” She gave a thin smile. “Nobody knows him. Maybe not even you.”
Vergil frowned, but didn’t disagree.
Viviane, who had been observing everything with the serenity of soone who had witnessed interdinsional wars while polishing silverware, finally intervened in a low but firm voice:
“Darling, if I may… keeping secrets is, in fact, an advantage. And considering that Dante seems determined to attract attention, the less they know about his movents, the better.”
Vergil crossed his arms, the weight of the decisions beginning to settle him on the ground.
He knew how to fight. He knew how to win. He knew how to destroy.
But competing in a tournant that involved celestial, infernal, and interdinsional politics?
That required more than strength. It required strategy. It required patience.
It required… gaplay.
“I understand,” he finally said. “So you want to conceal my techniques.”
“That’s right,” Wukong replied imdiately.
“Don’t reveal your limits,” Viviane added.
“Not even half of what you can really do,” Sapphire added, now with a dangerous smile. “They deserve to be surprised.”
Wukong clapped once, excitedly.
“Great! Now we’re thinking like real players.”
“I don’t play,” Vergil said dryly.
Now it was Sapphire, Wukong, Viviane, and even a maid passing in the hallway who looked at him as if he had just said he didn’t know what water was.
Sapphire sighed, taking his hand.
“Honey… you play. You always have. You just pretend you don’t.”
Vergil opened his mouth to reply, but Wukong interrupted him, pointing at him with his teacup:
“And that’s exactly why you’re dangerous. Whoever thinks they’re not playing… is almost always the one who’s already winning.”
Vergil blinked, absorbing the words.
Sapphire smiled.
Viviane tilted her head, satisfied.
Wukong stretched out her arms, already too excited for such a serious conversation.
“So that’s it! Little Demon King is going to compete. We need to train him, strategize, review potential enemies, calculate portals, prepare cheats—”
“No cheats,” Vergil cut in.
Wukong rolled his eyes. “You’re so square…”
Sapphire put her arms around his, murmuring with pure pride:
“It’ll be beautiful to see everyone underestimating you.”
Vergil took a deep breath, the plan beginning to take root in his mind.
“Then so be it,” he said firmly. “I’ll participate.”
Wukong and Sapphire’s auras vibrated simultaneously—one ablaze, the other golden—as if ready to explode or to bring down an entire city in celebration.
Viviane simply smiled, elegant as always.
“May the gods have rcy on anyone who crosses their path,” Sapphire added with a fierce glint in her eyes: “Because we won’t.”
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