Chapter 920: The Leaf

The first minute was enough to destroy any illusion that Vergil was facing Scáthach under even remotely balanced conditions.

Not because he was slow.

Quite the opposite.

His feet moved precisely over the grass, Yamato always remained close to the center line, and every slash had a clear purpose: threaten, close an escape route, provoke a defense, or prepare the next strike.

There were no wasted movements.

Vergil had spent far too much time fighting creatures faster, stronger, and more dangerous than any ordinary human to make crude mistakes in stance or distance.

Even so, Scáthach looked like she was taking a walk.

Vergil stepped forward with his right foot and sent a descending diagonal slash toward her shoulder.

Scáthach did not block directly.

She simply brought the small branch close to the side of Yamato and touched the blade at the exact moment Vergil’s weight began shifting onto his front leg.

Tap.

Yamato deviated a few centimeters.

That was all Scáthach needed.

She passed beneath the slash, rotated her wrist, and touched the tip of the branch to Vergil’s ribs.

"Late."

Vergil tried to strike her with his elbow as he turned.

Scáthach was already gone.

A light tap struck the back of his head.

"Late again."

Vergil turned violently, Yamato tracing a horizontal arc that would have cut an entire tree in half had one been a few meters behind her.

Scáthach leaned back just enough for the blade to pass in front of her face, her red hair moving in the wind created by the strike.

"Pretty."

The branch touched his fist.

Vergil temporarily lost the alignment of his wrist.

"But useless."

He stepped back twice, corrected his guard, and attacked again without answering.

Scáthach smiled.

That was exactly what she wanted.

Vergil launched a shorter sequence of slashes this time.

First vertical, then rising diagonal, a return cut from the left, and finally a thrust toward the center of her chest.

None of them were especially wide.

He was not trying to impress her with speed.

He was limiting each motion to avoid the openings she had exploited before.

Scáthach’s branch intercepted Yamato four times.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

They were not conventional blocks.

The wood barely seemed to receive any force.

She touched Yamato at specific moments of movement, always a few centimeters before or after the point where Vergil expected contact.

Once on the upper third of the blade, another near the guard, another exactly where the katana began accelerating after changing direction.

Every touch dismantled something.

An angle.

A balance.

A line.

An intention.

Vergil noticed the fifth before it happened and withdrew Yamato early.

Scáthach raised an eyebrow.

"Oh."

Vergil cut upward from below.

She rotated her hips.

The blade passed close enough to brush her clothes.

Vergil converted the movement into a short thrust.

Scáthach tapped the spine of Yamato with the branch and pushed the tip only a few centimeters downward.

The thrust passed beside her waist.

She stepped in.

Vergil felt the branch touch his chest.

"You died."

He immediately stepped back and tried to cut her neck.

Scáthach lowered her head.

The branch touched his abdomen.

"Died twice."

Vergil kicked.

She took half a step back.

Yamato came down.

Scáthach stopped the strike with a single finger resting on the branch.

The ground beneath Vergil’s feet cracked.

His arm remained still.

Scáthach looked at Yamato.

Then at him.

"Three."

Vergil pulled the sword back with force.

"You’re counting?"

"I started because it got fun."

Yamato vibrated furiously.

*I hate that woman.*

Vergil breathed through his nose.

"You said that yesterday."

*Yesterday I was afraid.*

"And now?"

*Now I’m offended.*

Scáthach only heard the verbal half of the conversation, but the aggressive vibration of the katana made the rest obvious enough.

"Is the sword complaining?"

"Yes."

"About me?"

"Mostly."

Scáthach smiled.

"How sensitive."

Yamato nearly jumped from Vergil’s hand.

*GIVE ME TO HER.*

"No."

*I’M GOING TO CUT THAT BITCH.*

"Calm down."

*SHE’S BLOCKING ME WITH A BRANCH.*

"I noticed."

*A BRANCH, VERGIL.*

"Yamato."

*I CUT DIMENSIONS.*

Vergil discreetly tightened his grip.

"Breathe."

There was an indignant silence inside their connection.

*I DON’T HAVE LUNGS.*

Vergil almost laughed.

That was a mistake.

Scáthach appeared in front of him before the smile finished forming.

The branch touched the outside of his forearm.

Vergil felt his hand lose strength for an instant.

Yamato nearly fell.

He caught her with the other hand before that happened and drove forward with his shoulder, trying to use the physical difference to push Scáthach out of her comfortable position.

She simply placed one foot between his.

Vergil realized too late.

His center of gravity moved exactly through the point Scáthach wanted.

She grabbed his wrist, turned her body, and used his own forward momentum to throw him over her hip.

Vergil hit the ground.

Scáthach did not let him finish falling.

The tip of the branch was already resting against his throat.

"Four."

Vergil stared up at her from the grass.

"That wasn’t even swordsmanship."

"A swordsman who thinks there is only a sword after someone gets inside his guard deserves to fall."

She moved the branch away.

Vergil stood immediately.

"You talk too much."

Scáthach smiled.

"Learned from me?"

"Unfortunately."

Vergil resumed his guard.

This time, his face was serious.

He began to circle.

Scáthach remained almost completely still, following him only with her eyes.

The small branch hung loosely between her fingers, pointed downward in a posture that theoretically offered no defense at all.

Vergil advanced.

High feint.

Scáthach did not react.

Low feint.

Nothing.

Vergil went directly into a thrust at the center.

The branch rose.

Tap.

Yamato deviated.

But Vergil had already expected that.

Instead of fighting the change in trajectory, he let Scáthach guide the blade and rotated his body in the same direction, converting the thrust into a reverse circular slash.

Her smile widened.

"Better."

Scáthach stepped back.

For the first time.

Only half a step.

Yamato noticed.

*SHE STEPPED BACK.*

"I saw."

*DO IT AGAIN.*

Vergil advanced immediately.

Now he was no longer trying to beat force with force.

He stopped reacting to those small contacts as though they were conventional blocks and began accepting them as part of his own movement.

Scáthach touched Yamato near the guard.

Vergil let his wrist yield.

The blade changed line.

He used the alteration and attacked from the opposite side.

Scáthach dodged.

Vergil pursued.

Another change.

Another cut.

For the first time, the two truly began moving across the field.

Yamato produced a sharp whistle every time she cut through the air, while Scáthach’s branch moved through absurdly small trajectories.

Vergil needed dozens of centimeters to create some attacks.

Sometimes she needed two.

The contrast was irritating.

Scáthach took another step back.

"Well, look at that."

Vergil attacked.

"He learns."

Another strike.

"Slowly."

Vergil narrowed his eyes.

"But he learns."

Yamato came down toward her shoulder.

Scáthach tilted her body.

The slash passed.

She touched the side of Vergil’s waist with the branch.

"Five."

He answered with an elbow.

She dodged.

"Getting desperate?"

Vergil thrust.

"No."

"Tense?"

Another dodge.

"No."

"Irritated?"

Vergil nearly clipped her hair.

"A little."

Scáthach laughed.

"Finally an honest answer."

She advanced.

Vergil blocked the first touch.

The second.

The third.

The fourth hit his shoulder.

"Six."

Vergil tried to counterattack.

The branch touched his thigh.

"Seven."

He turned Yamato into a short slash toward her neck.

Scáthach ducked.

The branch touched his stomach.

"Eight."

Vergil took two steps back.

Scáthach was not even breathing differently.

That was perhaps the worst part.

No sweat.

No muscular tension.

Not even that tiny change in breathing that normally betrayed exertion after a long sequence.

She looked completely rested.

Vergil stared at her.

"You’re doing that on purpose."

"Doing what?"

"Counting."

"Of course."

"Why?"

"Because you get more irritated with every number."

Yamato vibrated.

*I want to kill her.*

Vergil slowly exhaled.

"I’m starting to consider it too."

Scáthach broke into a huge grin.

"Excellent."

Vergil lowered Yamato slightly.

Scáthach watched.

"Tired already?"

"No."

"Then why did you stop?"

Vergil looked at the blade.

Yamato was practically boiling with indignation in his hand.

"Calm down."

*SHE USED ME AS A STEP.*

Vergil remembered that a few attacks earlier, Scáthach had actually planted her foot on the side of the katana for a fraction of a second to leap over a slash.

"It was only once."

*ONCE IS TOO MANY.*

"Let’s show her what we are."

The vibration changed.

The indignation remained.

But something appeared underneath.

Determination.

*Together?*

Vergil held Yamato with both hands for a few seconds before returning to his normal grip.

"Always."

Yamato went quiet.

Scáthach noticed the change in the aura between them.

"Finished with the motivational speech?"

Vergil raised Yamato.

"We’re done."

"Good."

Scáthach raised the branch.

Vergil advanced with an explosion of speed.

The distance vanished.

Yamato attacked along a perfect line.

Scáthach moved the branch.

Contact happened.

CRACK.

Everything stopped.

Vergil immediately stepped back, expecting some trick.

There was none.

Scáthach looked at her own hand.

Half of the branch was gone.

The other half was cracked between her fingers.

She made a small frown.

"Ah."

Vergil looked at Yamato.

Yamato vibrated triumphantly.

*HAHA.*

"Don’t overdo it."

*I BROKE IT.*

"It was a branch."

*HERS.*

Scáthach squeezed the wood between two fingers.

Crack.

The rest simply snapped.

She looked at the pieces for a few seconds.

"This thing isn’t very durable."

Vergil stared at her.

"You’re surprised?"

"A little."

"It was literally dry wood."

"It lasted longer than I expected."

Yamato vibrated with such indignation that Vergil had to hold the sheath with his other hand.

Scáthach tossed the remains of the branch onto the ground.

Vergil imagined she would finally pick up a sword.

Maybe a spear.

Any real weapon.

She began looking around.

Then noticed something near her foot.

She bent down.

Picked up a leaf.

Vergil went still.

It was an ordinary green leaf.

A little larger than the palm of her hand.

Scáthach held it by the end of the stem and examined both sides.

Vergil closed his eyes.

"No."

She ran her fingers over the surface.

"It’ll do."

"Scáthach."

Energy began flowing into the leaf.

It did not explode.

It did not burn.

The fragile structure simply became rigid.

The edges turned perfectly straight beneath an invisible pressure, and an aura so thin it was barely perceptible began coating the entire surface.

Vergil felt Yamato stop vibrating.

*...Master.*

"I know."

*This is worse.*

"I know."

Scáthach held the leaf as though it were a small blade.

Then she took a stance.

And that was the first time since the training had started that Vergil saw a real difference in her.

Her shoulders relaxed.

Her feet shifted only a few centimeters.

Her center of gravity lowered.

The playful smile remained, but her eyes became completely different.

The pressure hit Vergil like a wall.

The grass around Scáthach bent outward.

Yamato trembled.

Vergil felt the muscles in his arms contract on pure reflex.

Scáthach raised the leaf.

"Okay."

Vergil tightened his grip on Yamato.

She smiled.

"Let’s fight seriously."