Chapter 919: Branch Against Yamato

The training field behind Sapphire’s mansion was large enough to resemble a small private stadium.

There were no stands, only an almost perfectly flat stretch of grass surrounded by ancient trees, a few stone structures, and, much farther away, the main building of the estate.

Sapphire had chosen that place years ago precisely because any serious training inside the mansion eventually ended with broken walls, complaining servants, and an absurd reconstruction bill.

That morning, Vergil stood near the center of the field with Yamato secured at his waist.

Scáthach was approximately twenty meters ahead, wearing simple training clothes with her long red hair partially tied back.

She carried no spear, sword, dagger, or any other visible weapon.

In fact, her hands were completely empty as she watched Vergil with that calm expression that was beginning to irritate him more than it should.

"Draw your sword," she said. "And attack me with everything you have."

Vergil remained still.

Scáthach raised an eyebrow.

"Is there a problem?"

"You’re unarmed."

"Yes."

"And you want me to attack with Yamato."

"That too."

Vergil looked at her waist, then at her empty hands.

"You understand Yamato cuts dimensions, right?"

Scáthach let out a small sigh.

"You talk far too much about your sword for someone who supposedly knows how to use it."

Yamato immediately vibrated against Vergil’s waist.

*She’s provoking you.*

"I noticed."

Scáthach watched the small one-sided conversation with obvious amusement.

"If it bothers you that much, I can use a weapon."

Vergil raised his gaze.

She crouched.

For a moment, he imagined some weapon was hidden in the grass.

There wasn’t.

Scáthach picked up a broken branch.

It was tiny.

Dry.

About the length of a pencil.

She brushed some dirt from the tip with her thumb, held it between her fingers as though it were an extremely short sword, and looked up.

"There."

Vergil fell silent.

Scáthach smiled.

He looked at the branch.

Then at her.

"You’re serious?"

"Completely."

"That isn’t a weapon."

"To you."

Vergil narrowed his eyes.

Scáthach spun the little branch between her fingers, apparently testing the weight and durability of something that would probably snap if a child stepped on it.

"A Grandmaster has reached the limit of their art’s evolution. At a certain point, the sword stops being the source of the technique and becomes only a convenient tool."

Vergil rested one hand on Yamato.

"You’re saying you don’t need a sword to practice swordsmanship."

"I’m saying I don’t need a sword to cut."

She moved the branch.

That was all.

A lazy sideways motion.

The air changed.

Vergil felt it first in his legs.

His muscles contracted on pure instinct, and for a fraction of a second his knees threatened to give way.

An invisible pressure crossed the field, not like demonic energy, magic, or divine authority, but like something much simpler and at the same time absurdly refined.

Intent.

An intent to cut so perfect that the environment itself seemed to accept it as reality.

The grass bent in a straight line for dozens of meters.

The nearest trees trembled.

Yamato practically screamed inside Vergil’s mind.

*SHUT UP.*

He blinked.

"What?"

*THAT WOMAN DOESN’T NEED A SWORD.*

Vergil looked at Yamato.

"You too?"

*YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND.*

"I understand perfectly."

*No, you don’t!*

Vergil placed a hand on the hilt.

"Yamato, stop panicking."

*I AM A SWORD. I KNOW WHEN SOMEONE KNOWS HOW TO USE ONE!*

"That doesn’t make sense."

*SHE’S SO GOOD WITH A SWORD THAT SHE DOESN’T NEED ONE!*

Vergil closed his eyes for a moment.

"That sentence still doesn’t make sense."

Scáthach raised the little branch.

"Try to block this."

Vergil opened his eyes immediately.

"What?"

She lowered her hand.

Slowly.

Almost without effort.

The entire field trembled.

There was no visible explosion, no blade of energy appeared, and no magic formed in front of her.

Even so, Vergil felt something crossing the space toward him with enough violence to make every combat instinct in his body react at once.

Yamato left the sheath.

CLANG!

The impact was real.

So real that Vergil’s arms were driven several centimeters backward.

His eyes widened as Yamato blocked absolutely nothing in front of him.

Bluish sparks appeared along the blade, and a shockwave exploded around the two points where that invisible force met the katana.

The ground beneath Vergil’s feet cracked.

He was pushed backward.

One meter.

Two.

Five.

His boots tore through the grass as he tried to hold his position until he finally managed to redirect the force to the side.

The invisible attack grazed past and struck a distant stone formation.

The rock split.

It did not explode.

It was cut.

An absolutely smooth surface appeared where nearly four meters of solid stone had existed before.

Vergil stared at it.

Then looked at Yamato.

The blade was trembling slightly.

Then he looked at Scáthach.

She was still holding that damned branch.

"What the hell is that?"

Scáthach vanished.

Vergil only had time to feel danger.

He turned and raised Yamato.

The branch struck the side of the katana.

BOOM!

The collision released a pressure wave that flattened the grass around them in a perfect circle.

Vergil was pushed back again, but this time Scáthach followed the movement.

She turned.

The branch came toward his ribs.

Vergil blocked.

Another impossible impact traveled through his arms.

"Are you using energy?"

"No."

Scáthach immediately changed the angle.

Vergil tried to follow.

The branch simply disappeared from his field of vision.

A sharp pain appeared in his shoulder.

Tap.

Vergil stepped back.

Looked at his own arm.

A thin line had appeared in his clothes.

Beneath it, his skin was cut.

Barely.

But cut.

He slowly raised his eyes.

Scáthach was already standing in front of him again.

"That was a branch."

"Yes."

"You cut me with wood."

"Yes."

Vergil fell silent.

Yamato vibrated.

*I warned you.*

"Not helping."

Scáthach attacked again.

This time Vergil did not wait.

Yamato cut through the air in a sequence of three strikes.

The first aimed for the neck, the second would prevent a lateral dodge, and the third came along a diagonal line exactly where Scáthach should appear if she tried to retreat.

She did not retreat.

The tiny branch touched Yamato.

Only once.

Vergil felt his sword get knocked completely off its trajectory.

"How—"

Scáthach stepped inside his guard.

Her shoulder struck his chest.

Vergil was thrown several meters backward.

Still in the air, he twisted his body and landed on his feet, dragging Yamato along the ground for a few centimeters.

When he raised his head, Scáthach was already coming.

"You depend too much on the weapon."

Vergil blocked a high strike.

"It’s a sword."

"I’m not talking about Yamato."

Another attack came from below.

Vergil shifted his guard.

"I’m talking about you."

The branch touched Yamato again.

Vergil felt his right hand forced away from the center line.

Scáthach took advantage of the opening and touched two fingers to his chest.

He felt the impact a moment later.

BOOM!

Vergil crossed nearly twenty meters of field before recovering his balance.

The grass was destroyed in a line behind him.

He took a deep breath.

Scáthach remained where she was.

"Again."

Vergil tightened his grip on Yamato.

"That still doesn’t explain anything."

"I explained it."

"You said you don’t need a sword because you reached the limit of evolution. That isn’t an explanation. That’s showing off."

Scáthach smiled.

"Then come find out."

Vergil narrowed his eyes.

Yamato vibrated with a strange mixture of fear and excitement.

*Don’t do anything stupid.*

"You’re starting to sound like Sapphire."

*Maybe she’s right.*

Vergil looked offended.

"Betrayal."

Scáthach appeared again.

This time Vergil was ready.

Or thought he was.

Yamato descended in an extremely fast vertical line.

Scáthach simply tilted her body, letting the blade pass by mere millimeters, and tapped the branch against the side of the sword.

One touch.

Vergil felt Yamato’s entire trajectory change.

It was not strength.

That was becoming clear.

She was attacking exactly the point where his own force stopped helping him.

"You’re using my movement against me."

"Finally."

Vergil turned his wrist, trying to convert the opening into a reverse slash.

Scáthach smiled.

"But you’re still slow."

The branch struck his wrist.

His hand opened on reflex.

Yamato slipped from his fingers.

Vergil’s eyes widened.

Scáthach passed him, spun the branch between her fingers, and lightly tapped the katana’s hilt while it was still in the air.

Yamato flew.

Vergil tried to grab her.

Scáthach kicked his knee.

His leg buckled.

She moved behind him.

The branch touched the side of his neck.

Everything stopped.

Vergil remained kneeling.

Yamato landed in the grass four meters ahead.

Scáthach stood behind him with a pencil-sized piece of wood resting against his throat.

"You died."

Vergil glanced sideways.

"I regenerate."

The branch pressed slightly harder.

"That is exactly one of your problems."

He fell silent.

Scáthach moved the branch away and took a few steps back.

"You think about that."

Vergil slowly stood.

"Because it works."

"Against people worse than you."

She pointed the branch at him.

"Against someone better, regeneration only means you’ll die several times before realizing your mistake."

Vergil looked at Yamato lying in the grass.

The sword vibrated.

*She’s right.*

"Did everyone decide to turn against me today?"

*I want you to stop using my body as an excuse to do stupid things.*

Vergil walked over and picked Yamato up.

"I don’t do that."

Scáthach and Yamato answered at the same time.

"You do."

Vergil went still.

Looked at Scáthach.

Then at the sword.

"You two are getting along far too well already."

Scáthach started laughing.

Yamato vibrated happily.

Vergil sheathed the katana and took a deep breath.

At first, this whole training idea had seemed like just another one of Sapphire’s plans to irritate him.

Now his attention had changed completely.

He wanted to understand.

The invisible pressure.

The way Scáthach had cut without a sword.

Her ability to turn a useless branch into something capable of facing Yamato without immediately breaking.

More importantly, he wanted to know how she could see flaws in his technique that almost no one else could even keep up with.

Scáthach noticed the change in his expression.

"Now you’re interested."

Vergil drew Yamato again.

"Don’t get full of yourself."

"You’re holding the sword differently."

He looked at his own hand.

She was right.

Without noticing, he had loosened his grip and adjusted his thumb by a few millimeters.

Scáthach smiled.

"First correction."

Vergil looked at her.

"You did that on purpose."

"Of course."

"You disarmed me just to correct my grip."

"Also because it was funny."

Vergil let out a small laugh through his nose.

"I’m starting to understand why Sapphire likes you."

"She said you’d probably like me."

"Don’t exaggerate."

Scáthach raised the branch again.

"We’ll find out in a few hours."

Vergil took his stance.

"You’re going to keep using that piece of crap?"

"Until you can force me to pick up a sword."

His smile disappeared.

The demonic energy around his feet began to vibrate.

Scáthach pointed the branch at him.

"No transformation. No authority. No cutting space. No regeneration as an excuse."

"You took away practically everything fun."

"Use the sword."

Vergil smiled.

Yamato vibrated in his hand.

This time there was no fear.

Only anticipation.

He charged.