Rebirth-Transcending All Beings-Chapter 45: A Dance With The Devil [2]

Vergil’s form changed into a shadow once more as he bursted forward — his muscles fueled by his mana heart.

Their blades clashed once more, sparks flying as Ember Blaze lit his steel blade with a red glow.

"You regenerate," Morvax sneered, shifting his copied form to have six arms. "But so do I."

"I’ll tell you this once and only once." Vergil’s voice remained low yet steady. "This. Will be our final dance."

Morvax slashed once more, a sickle-arm aiming for his legs. Vergil ducked, moving backwards instinctively towards where the crystal fed.

Morvax moved in, another strike aiming for his side. Vergil parried the blow with his shield. A counterstrike flared to life as Vergil’s swung in a wide arc, sparks trailing behind his Blazing sword like a comet’s tail.

Their fight continued, brutal and fast. Every exchange allowed Morvax to adapt, but so was Vergil.

And now he was healing too fast to fall.

Morvax lunged forward with practised precision, sword raised in a mirrored stance.

Two Vergil’s clashed in a blur of movement, warped flesh against steel. Sparks lit the altar as the imitation brought down his blade in a downwards arc.

The real version moved his shoulder, shield angled to deflect.

Clang!

The impact rang like a bell as Vergil slid back slightly — but his stance held. "Still using my face?" His brows furrowed.

Morvax didn’t answer, his grin only widening before swinging. His moves became tighter, more refined. He was learning.

’He’s getting faster. That Mimicry of his, is improving as we exchange blows.’

Suddenly Morvax dropped low, sweeping at Vergil’s legs with a mimicry of the same spinning sweep Vergil had used earlier.

Vergil leapt over it–but as he came down, the doppelgangers blade carved his side.

Green veins lit up faintly beneath his skin, pulsing softly as ghostly vines curled along the torn flesh before vanishing.

Morvax snarled as he noticed, but in that exact moment — Vergil’s foot slammed into his chest. Morvax staggered, still holding Vergil’s form.

And then — he fell.

Both legs, still in Vergil’s shape, detached from the knee with a clean and quiet slice.

Morvax’s mouth twitched, not in anger but in confusion as his top half hit the stone with a heavy thud. "What!?"

His now missing legs twitched yards away as black blood oozed and flesh unraveled into demonic mass. ’Did he do something?’

Vergil straightened himself. "Do you still not see it?"

Morvax looked once more, deeper. And there it was a thin wire of ice connected between the two pillars he had been shoved to.

"A trap." Vergil spoke flatly, conjuring another line of ice at his fingertips. "So focused on mimicking me that you didn’t notice."

"This. Was. All. A. Trap" Vergil remarked proudly. "I’m quite proud of myself too."

The top half where he was cut twitched violently as bubbles popped as new flesh and bone swelled grotesquely before aligning into position.

Within seconds, muscles and nerves layered themselves over the bone before reforming what had been detached. Morvax stood up once more — toes flexing to test their strength.

"You bastard — why did you spare me?" Morvax spoke out loud. He knew Vergil could have finished him off there and then but he didn’t.

"You spared me once when we first met," Vergil smiled. "And I’ve done the same."

"Now this will be our true final dance."

Vergil exhaled slowly, letting the embers on his blade finally die out — with one swift motion, he embedded the blade into a crack in the floor. Metal clanging against stone like a declaration.

He cracked his knuckles before rolling his shoulders, eyes locked on Morvax. "It’s time to switch things up," Vergil flexed his hands once more. "These are enough for you."

The words echoed through the chamber like a challenge soaked in cofidence — as Vergil’s Taunt activated.

Morvax’s many hands twitched, his face contorted in anger. "You damn bastard," he snarled. "That arrogance shall be your grave."

Vergil titled his head, amused by his words. "If you’re so sure, then come find out why."

Morvax roared, lunging forward with his six arms that whirled in a blur of mutilated fury. And Vergil, who stood weaponless and unshaken, shifted into his first stance.

His pupils narrowed as Keen Gaze activated, his irises following every twitch of Morvax’s muscle. Time didn’t slow but the clarity sharpened.

Every move he made, every twitch and faint left him bare, like an open book.

He breathed in deep. Mana Affinity.

His mana heart pulsed — his muscles tightening once more as his physical stats surged. His stance changed, not elegant but grounded and ruthless.

It had once been the orc’s fighting style, and now it belonged to him. The memory of their fight still lingered vividly in his mind. Now honed to make sure the muscles used could reach a portion of its potential.

His fists lowered to his waist, knees bending outwards. It wasn’t perfect, he wasn’t sure if he had mastered it right, but he understood its purpose.

Power.

Pressure.

Punishment.

Across from him, Morvax still wore his face, snarling — before finally pouncing. Sword-arm slicing through the air while his hook arm followed with a jagged swing towards his flank.

Vergil didn’t retreat, ducking beneath the blade at the perfect moment — his foot stomping into the cracked floor to anchor himself, twisting his body to deliver a brutal elbow that shattered into Morvax’s ribs.

Ghh—!" Morvax gagged, surprise flickering across his warped face. Vergil followed up with a pivoted strike, knuckles slamming into his jaw.

A clawed hand came for his throat, Vergil bent sideways, twisting his hips before slamming his left knee into Morvax’s gut.

But Vergil wasn’t done, he spun low, sweeping Morvax’s legs from beneath him then rose with a fluid turn into a rising uppercut that cracked his jaw.

It wasn’t graceful or stylish, but it was brutal and it worked.

Dust and grit burst up as Morvax skidded across the ground, he clutched his shattered jaw — limbs twitching from the violent pummel of attacks. Trying to regain balance. But Vergil wasn’t going to give him a chance.

Shadow Dash.

A dark ripple covered his form, flaring before he surged once more. His body blurring with the momentum as he instantly closed the distance.

One hand snapping forward with an almost surgical-like precision, fingers gripping the mimics face.

Not like a man but like a beast gripping its prey. Morvax could only let out a grunt before Vergil’s nails dug into the flesh.

Not grabbing but embedding, his nails sharpened by the flowing mana as he gouged deep past the cheekbone — scraping bone.

Black blood welled, dark and thick as if the flesh fought back but Vergil didn’t stop. His thumbs pressed into the eye sockets like buttons.

The mimics claws flailed wildly, but Vergil was anchored, immovable, like a storm that refused to shift. He leaned in close, eyes glowing faintly with restrained fury.

"Its time we say goodbye—to this." With a savage pull he ripped. The face mask came off in chunks and ribbons as the face glued itself to Vergil’s bloody fingers like a grotesque trophy.

Morvax shrieked, shoving Vergil back with a burst of wild strength, staggering away as his body began to twist. The illusion shattered once more, bones cracking back into his true monster form.

He hunched over, breathing ragged, as gnarled horns began sprouting and his spine lengthened with sickening pops.

Vergil stood there, fingers dripping with blood, the remains of his mimicry clenched in his hand before being tossed away like garbage. "Didn’t I say." A smirk tugged his face. "That I’d rip it off."

Morvax looked at him, face unrecognisable as his eyes began to regenerate. "You bastard."

Vergil rolled his shoulders once more, stance tightening. "I’ve taken quite a liking to my new style," Vergil murmured. "Although I’m still figuring it out."

His palm faced towards morvax. "But it’s enough to break you."