Chapter 915: Yamato’s New Form

The dry sound of wood cutting through the air repeated at precise intervals across the training grounds behind Sapphire’s mansion. The European estate stood far enough from nearby cities that no one cared about the occasional explosion, creatures flying over the trees, or the fact that a good portion of its residents could demolish a small city if they happened to have a particularly bad day.

That morning, however, Vergil was not using demonic energy, authority, Mjölnir, or any of the dozens of abilities he had accumulated. He wore simple training clothes and held only a wooden sword, repeating basic movements in front of a row of targets.

The problem was that Yamato was resting on a bench a few meters behind him.

And she was furious.

The sheath vibrated so violently that it actually slid several centimeters across the wood.

Vergil stopped halfway through a strike and closed his eyes. "No."

Another vibration came immediately.

"It’s not betrayal."

Yamato practically shook across the bench.

Vergil slowly turned around, still holding the wooden sword. "It’s training."

The answer was a long, indignant vibration.

"I know you’re better."

Another.

"Yes, infinitely better."

The sword vibrated again.

Vergil began massaging his forehead with two fingers. "Then what exactly is the problem?"

Yamato answered with such an aggressive sequence of vibrations that the sheath repeatedly struck the bench.

Vergil stared at her.

Even without a single word, he understood perfectly.

Why are you holding that thing when you could be holding me?

"Because," Vergil answered with the patience of someone explaining something to an extremely jealous child, "I’m training fundamentals. Using a weapon capable of cutting dimensions to practice basic movements defeats part of the purpose."

Yamato vibrated immediately.

I can be basic too.

Vergil narrowed his eyes.

"You cut space whenever I draw you with too much intent."

The vibration weakened.

"Exactly."

That was when Mjölnir, resting on the same bench a few centimeters away from Yamato, trembled once.

Vergil looked at the hammer.

Mjölnir vibrated again, this time in a short rhythm that was almost mocking.

He understood that too.

She’s too powerful to be playing around with pieces of wood.

Yamato stopped.

Vergil did too.

Slowly, the sword turned a few millimeters toward the hammer.

Vergil realized the mistake before it began.

"No."

Yamato vibrated.

Mjölnir answered.

"Don’t start."

The sword shook violently.

The hammer trembled twice.

Vergil pointed the wooden sword at both of them. "I know exactly what you’re saying, and neither of you is helping."

Mjölnir vibrated as though insisting that she was, in fact, helping.

Yamato responded so aggressively that the sheath nearly fell off the bench.

Vergil stood motionless for several seconds.

He had faced armies. Traded blows with gods. Survived attacks that destroyed body and soul. Cut through dimensions, stolen divine artifacts, and faced Odin without backing down.

And now he was arguing with a katana and a hammer.

"The worst part of all this," he muttered, "is that neither of you even talks."

Yamato vibrated.

"I know what you said."

Vergil noticed the contradiction in his own sentence and became even more irritated.

"How the hell do I understand you so well?"

Yamato’s next vibration seemed much softer.

Vergil stared at her.

Because you know me.

His expression relaxed slightly.

"That doesn’t mean you can get possessive every time I use another sword."

Yamato vibrated immediately.

I can.

"No."

I can.

"Yamato."

Mine.

Vergil frowned. "What?"

The sword vibrated once more.

You.

He went silent.

So did Mjölnir.

For several seconds, even the hammer seemed to decide this was territory best left alone.

Vergil ran a hand over his face. "Great. Now I need to figure out how to calm down a possessive sword."

Mjölnir vibrated discreetly.

Vergil looked at her.

"Don’t even think about it."

The hammer went quiet.

Yamato, however, remained displeased. Vergil rested the wooden sword against his shoulder and walked over to the bench, picking Yamato up by the sheath.

"Look," he began, speaking in an absurdly serious tone to an object any ordinary observer would consider completely inanimate. "You’re not being replaced. I would never replace you. This thing probably costs twenty euros."

Yamato vibrated.

"Yes, you’re worth more."

Another vibration.

"Much more."

Another.

Vergil narrowed his eyes. "I’m not putting a price on you."

Yamato insisted.

"Because that would be weird."

Another vibration.

Vergil sighed. "You’re impossible."

At that moment, Mjölnir seemed to give up on participating in the conversation. The hammer simply remained still on the bench, observing—in whatever way a divine weapon could observe—the Demon King attempting to emotionally negotiate with his own katana.

Then a third voice appeared.

"CAN YOU ALL SHUT UP?!"

Vergil turned.

A mass of black and bluish energy emerged directly from his chest, condensing in front of him until it formed Niddrog’s body. The dragon appeared with her long blue hair completely disheveled, arms crossed, and an expression of pure exhaustion.

Vergil blinked. "Good morning."

"It is not good."

"Niddrog—"

"Sit."

He stared at her.

"Excuse me?"

Niddrog pointed at the ground.

"Sit."

Vergil slowly looked at Yamato.

Then at Niddrog.

"You understand that you live inside my soul, right?"

"Yes."

"And you’re giving me orders."

"Yes."

"On my property."

"This property isn’t yours."

Vergil opened his mouth.

Stopped.

"Annoyingly valid argument."

Niddrog pointed again. "Sit."

Vergil eventually sat on a small stone wall near the training field, more out of curiosity than obedience. Niddrog then turned toward Yamato.

"You too."

Yamato vibrated furiously.

Niddrog narrowed her eyes. "I don’t care if you don’t have legs."

Vergil started laughing.

Niddrog immediately pointed at him. "You stay quiet."

"Fine."

She took a deep breath, like someone trying to control a headache that technically should not exist. "I was trying to sleep in there."

Vergil raised an eyebrow. "You sleep?"

"Yes."

"Didn’t know."

"Because you never ask anything useful."

"Fair."

Niddrog continued. "Except Nivara and Crymsaria were making bets."

Vergil already knew he would not like where this was going.

"Betting on what?"

"Two hours ago, they started betting on who would give in first. You or the sword."

Vergil went completely still.

Then two manifestations appeared behind Niddrog.

Crymsaria appeared first, red hair falling over her shoulders and a deeply offended expression on her face. Nivara appeared immediately after, much more controlled, though clearly just as irritated by the interruption.

"You ruined everything!" Crymsaria complained.

Niddrog slowly turned.

"Shut up."

"I was winning!"

"You weren’t," Nivara corrected. "I bet Vergil would give in first."

"And I bet on Yamato!"

Vergil looked from one to the other. "You spent two hours watching?"

Nivara shrugged. "It was interesting."

Crymsaria pointed at Yamato. "She almost won when she called you ’mine.’"

Vergil closed his eyes.

Niddrog looked ready to explode.

"ENOUGH!"

Crymsaria and Nivara fell silent.

Niddrog took another deep breath and walked toward the bench.

"I’m going to solve this in the simplest way possible."

Vergil opened his eyes.

"I don’t like it when you say that."

"Your problem."

Before he could stand, Niddrog simply picked up Yamato.

Vergil froze.

Yamato seemed surprised too.

"Niddrog."

"Hmm?"

"Put her back."

"No."

"Niddrog."

The dragon held Yamato horizontally in front of her body and placed her other hand on the sheath.

Vergil felt the change immediately.

An absurd amount of draconic energy began gathering.

"Niddrog."

"Quiet."

"Niddrog, no."

The energy exploded.

Vergil jumped to his feet, but before he could take a single step, draconic circles appeared beneath him. Chains formed from bluish energy wrapped around his arms, legs, and torso, completely immobilizing him.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"

Crymsaria and Nivara backed away.

Even Mjölnir vibrated in alarm.

Niddrog continued pouring energy into Yamato.

"I’m helping."

"THIS DOESN’T LOOK LIKE HELP!"

The blade began trembling inside the sheath.

Vergil tried to break the chains, but Niddrog had used a ridiculous amount of energy precisely because she knew his strength. The draconic marks on the ground shone brighter when he tried to move forward.

"NIDDROG!"

"You’re very stupid."

"I KNOW, BUT THAT DOESN’T EXPLAIN ANYTHING!"

"Yamato needs to be able to protect herself from you."

Vergil stopped struggling for a moment.

"What?"

Niddrog looked directly at him.

"You break everything."

Vergil went silent.

Crymsaria nodded discreetly.

So did Nivara.

"Traitors," he muttered.

Niddrog continued. "She’s strong. Very strong. But you keep getting stronger, using more energy, mixing different things inside your own body, and throwing all of it through her."

"She can handle it."

"Until she can’t."

Vergil looked at Yamato.

For the first time, he realized the vibration was not anger.

It was pain.

"Niddrog, stop."

"No."

The draconic energy increased.

The sheath began to crack.

Vergil completely lost his humor.

"NIDDROG!"

"Trust me."

"YOU EAT TREES!"

"That has nothing to do with this!"

The energy reached its limit.

A thin sound cut through the air.

Crack.

Vergil’s eyes widened.

Yamato’s blade cracked.

"NO!"

The second sound was much worse.

CRAAAAACK!

The katana broke.

A flash of blue, violet, and white swallowed the entire field.

Vergil felt something inside his soul break together with the blade and, purely on instinct, tore through half the draconic chains restraining him. Nivara and Crymsaria raised barriers. Mjölnir almost flew off the bench, but the explosion of energy forced it back down.

Then everything went silent.

The light began to fade.

Vergil was breathing faster.

"Niddrog..."

She was staring at the center of the field.

Not at him.

Vergil followed her gaze.

And stopped.

Where Yamato had been, there was now a woman.

She stood among small luminous fragments of the former blade, staring at her own hands as though it were the first time she had ever possessed fingers. Long blue-violet hair fell far beyond her waist, thick and shining, moving gently even without wind. Some strands were lighter, almost lilac, while blue and white ornaments held part of her hair near her head.

Her face made Vergil simply forget for several seconds that he was supposed to be furious.

She was beautiful.

Not merely beautiful in the ordinary sense. There was something almost unfair about her appearance, a strange perfection that seemed to have been created from the very idea of elegance Yamato embodied. Her blue eyes were narrow and delicate, her lashes long, her lips soft, and her face held that rare combination of gentleness and authority that made someone look kind and dangerous at the same time.

And the rest of her did nothing to help Vergil recover his concentration.

The feminine form Yamato had created was absurdly curvaceous. The white-and-blue dress fitted over a generous chest before narrowing sharply at a slender, almost model-like waist. Her hips widened immediately afterward, creating a striking silhouette and ending in a round backside the elegant fabric made very little effort to hide. Her legs were long and beautifully shaped, partially covered by ornate white stockings and golden details that gave her a refined, almost noble appearance.

There was nothing vulgar about it.

That made it worse.

She looked as though she knew exactly how beautiful she was despite not even understanding yet that she had a body.

Small blue particles floated around her alongside the fragmented pieces of the blade, which did not fall to the ground. They remained suspended, slowly circling the woman like pieces of something that had not finished reorganizing itself.

Yamato raised one hand in front of her face.

Moved her fingers.

Then the other.

Touched her own face.

Her eyes widened slightly.

"I..."

Vergil froze.

Nivara opened her mouth.

So did Crymsaria.

Even Niddrog seemed surprised by the result.

The woman ran her fingers through her own hair and then slowly looked down at her body, examining the newly acquired form with growing curiosity.

"This..."

She touched her chest.

Vergil immediately turned his head away.

Crymsaria noticed and began to grin.

"Well, look at that."

"Shut up."

"He’s embarrassed."

"I am not."

Nivara let out a quiet laugh.

Yamato finally raised her eyes.

Saw Vergil.

Everything in her expression changed.

The confusion vanished.

Recognition was immediate.

She took one step toward him.

Vergil remained motionless, still partially restrained by the draconic chains.

"Yamato?"

The woman smiled.

That smile erased every doubt.

The body did not matter.

The voice he had never heard before did not matter.

The fact that his sword was now a surrealistically beautiful woman standing in front of him did not matter.

Vergil knew that presence better than he knew almost anything else.

"Vergil."

He went completely still.

It was the first time he had ever heard Yamato say his name.

Niddrog placed her hands on her hips, satisfied with herself.

"There."

Vergil slowly turned his head toward her.

Niddrog smiled.

"Now she can hit you when you do stupid shit."

Vergil stared at her.

Then at Yamato.

Then back at Niddrog.

"You broke my sword to give her legs?"

"It worked."

"THAT DOESN’T ANSWER THE QUESTION!"

Yamato started laughing.

Vergil stopped.

Her laughter was soft, beautiful, and somehow impossibly exactly the way he had always imagined she would laugh.

Then she walked up to him, held his face between both hands, and looked directly into his eyes.

"You really do talk too much."

Vergil went silent.

Crymsaria started laughing.

So did Nivara.

Mjölnir vibrated on the bench.

Yamato slowly turned her eyes toward the hammer.

The smile disappeared.

Vergil noticed.

"Oh, no."

Mjölnir vibrated again.

Yamato released his face.

"So..."

She started walking toward the bench.

Vergil closed his eyes.

"...this is the shrew."

Niddrog immediately turned toward Nivara.

"How much do you bet?"

Nivara smiled.

Crymsaria raised her hand.

"I want in too."