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."
