Vergil kept Yamato low, watching every step the cow took.
Her calculation was real—she looked for angles, avoided frontal attacks. But after three lunges, he knew: it was just an advanced reflex. She wasn't thinking. She was just imitating.
He sighed in disappointment.
"You're still stupid…" he murmured, his voice low but thick with frustration.
The next blow was so fast she couldn't even react—a shallow cut, just to make her flinch. Vergil didn't want to kill her; he wanted to remind her who was in control. She roared, her bare hands curling into fists, but there was no strategy in her gaze. Only force.
Rize, who was watching with a half-smile, seemed to notice the boredom on his face.
"Not enough, is it?"
Vergil didn't answer. He was evaluating, and that evaluation wasn't ending well for her.
Six fights later, he was already certain.
