Rebirth-Transcending All Beings-Chapter 63: Blood Baby

Silence was all that remained. All life had ceased movement, the wind halted its gale. Nothing stirred — except the movement of blood.

Yet it didn’t follow just any random path. It slithered across the jagged rocks like ink, pulled in by an unseen force — converging towards the blood jade in Vergil’s hand.

From the spike, to the puddles of blood that wet the floor, to the thin rivulets that dripped from Vergil’s body.

The jade absorbed everything with a gluttonous hunger. And the Jade shone a brilliant red, the sound of a heartbeat reverberated through the walls of the cavern like the awakening of an ancient and vile creature.

Crack!

Thin lines began to run across its surface.

Then another.

With a bone cracking sound, it shattered.

The blood it absorbed twisted violently, drawn in the air, levitating by Demonic Energy, spinning and churning into a small vortex that began to form an entity.

A child-sized figure, suspended midair, arms tucked inwards.

Its body was that of a toddler, yet unnaturally — its skin formed entirely of congealed blood and demonic mist. Despite the grotesque composition, it bore similar features to Vergil. A sharp jawline, and unlike Vergil’s messy hair, its hair styled in a crimson red flame.

Its face, though childlike, wore an expression devoid of emotion. Blank and saturated with a suffocated malice. The eyes were nothing but white light, hollow and empty.

Small hands flexed, every time it moved in the air, a trail of red mist was left behind in its wake.

Then it opened its mouth, lips curving into a smile.

It wasn’t just a creature — it was also Vergil, shaped by demonic energy — with a mind of its own.

The newborn baby looked at its surroundings before moving towards Vergil.

The organs were gone, ripped to shreds by the obsidian spike. His body now lying dead on the floor — eyes gazing towards the abyssal chasm above.

"Gu." The sound came like a dying growl trying to mimic innocence before moving towards the hollow cavity where Vergil’s heart used to beat.

The moment it touched the wound, it responded in instinct.

It knew.

It had been created for one reason.

It pressed its tiny blood-slick fingers, and without hesitation it melted — collapsing into blood before surging into the gaping wound.

Instantly, the blood latched onto what remained — transforming into a heart.

And it beat.

Once.

Then twice.

Pulsing weakly inside Vergil’s chest, each beat unleashed microscopic tendrils of demonic energy, mimicking the action of veins.

The Blood Baby had become a new heart for its creator, beginning the reconstruction.

It started with the lungs — moving fragile strands that weaved through the ribcage.

The process was painfully slow but it began the foundation.

By the second day, the heart’s rhythm strengthened — its beat becoming more distinct. The lungs had grown to the size of withered fists, their fibers binding slowly.

Bronchi beginning to form, along with delicate threads that tangled themselves into a mess of capillaries.

The gaping hole in the middle, began slowly knitting itself like tattered quilt.

The Blood Baby labored tiredly, pushing energy through every failed attempt.

At times, the rhythm faltered — slowing to a stop as the heart rested, gathering the little energy it could before pulsing again.

By the third day, faint lines appeared across Vergil’s form. The veins were still threads of mist that connected the few remaining organs in an attempt at structure like a fragile web.

The liver was still a hardened lump of grotesque mass, the spleen still a puddle of viscous goo.

But progress was made, the lungs finally formed alveoli — holding the precious gift of breath.

For now, they only served to keep the body alive, one heartbeat at a time.

By the fourth day, the blood heart focused on consolidation.

There was no more stretching outward. The lungs thickened, the stomach hardened to take a more recognisable form as tiny ducts and channels began to carve their way through the liver.

By the fifth day, the blood web expanded itself further.

A small stream of blood trickled through the partially created veins towards the nascent organs. Guided by demonic energy to mimic the real thing. In order to form its next step.

And a miracle happened. Vergil’s body jerked once, limbs spasmed but he remained unconscious.

On the sixth day, the digestive tract began its own quiet assembly, the stomach was now in a more recognised shape through the wreckage in his torso.

The kidneys, though rudimentary — were taking shape, barely functioning. Nothing more than soft lumps that struggled to process the blood that travelled

Vergil’s body was now half-formed. And it was only the start.

One heartbeat at a time.

Something strange began to happen on the seventh day.

The blood baby emitted faint sparks of energy. Testing its creation, checking which organs responded

A pulse to the lungs.

Thump.

Faint, but it moved. A spark to the liver, nothing. It knew what it needed to work on and didn’t rush.

Soon his master would awaken.

By the eighth day, the organs were nearly whole.

Not functioning yet, but they were almost formed the blood vessels thickened — carrying blood laced with demonic energy throughout his body. 𝗳𝚛𝚎𝚎𝘄𝕖𝕓𝕟𝕠𝚟𝚎𝕝.𝗰𝕠𝐦

Vergil’s body twitched once more, not from consciousness or awareness. But the reconnection of nerves to the brain.

The earth pulse echoing against the walls of the cavern with a constant and rhythmic pattern.

And then—

A sound.

Footsteps, that echoed against stone. Not rushed but stealthy.

Someone — or something was approaching.

Yet nothing approached. Nothing happened. The silence was almost deathly as the air grew thicker.

It was watching.

Waiting.

The heart pulsed once, thinking of its next course of action — and kept working. Not worrying about the shadow that watched.

The ninth day came along.

Blood Baby labored like a blacksmith in hell, shaping both new veins and bones — mending the shattered remnants of his spine before reattaching along the spinal column — each connection sending a small spasm through Vergil’s frame.

Half the organs — lungs, stomach, liver, kidney — were now fully shaped, pulsing once more.

New arteries crept like veins, reattaching themselves to the arms and legs. The Blood Baby’s work was so perfect, that there was no distinction between what had been there and what was made anew.

And as the heart thudded, something unseen in the room began to stir.

From a shadowed stone archway, a figure stood — observing.

Cloaked in a tattered black, the hood shrouding it’s face, yet carried a weapon thay stuck to its back. A massive, snow-white spear that pulsed faintly in resonance with the heart.

The figure stood still. Watching, but didn’t interfere.

"I knew someone entered the spacetime array, but to think I would see such a sight in a millennium."

Then a second voice answered, calm, but with an edge like sharpened glass.

"Why are you so interested? That’s a demon spawn."

The figure’s hand twitched at its side, restraining the impulse to step forward. Only offering a faint smile as she spoke softer.

"Why should that matter? Look at them, struggling desperately to live. And that little creature, I’ve never seen its kind before."

A long pause.

"Do what you want. You’ve grown too free — ever since then."

The hooded figure only nodded, her gaze hidden behind rock and shadow. Watching, as Blood Baby pulsed within the boy’s fragile body.

The hooded figure spoke no more.

Simply continued to watch, her gaze hidden beneath the shadows, as the blood heart pulsed desperately within the boy’s fragile body.

Waiting.

The spear gave a faint hum of rejection, a dissonant note against the struggling life before their eyes. And at last, the entity finally made her move, slow and deliberate — stepping towards the broken form.

Blood Baby stirred at the faint sound of footsteps that moved closer.

Sensing the approach, its body twitched, instinctively reverting to its true form. Thick crimson cords unfurled from its back, piercing gently into the boy’s chest — still acting as a heart.

It turned sharply towards the sound, eyes narrowing, preparing to defend.

And the figure finally revealed itself, moving from a stone carved from the interconnected cave system.

Blood Baby shrank back instinctively, wary of the mysterious individual.

But the entity moved with grace, slowly kneeling down with a fluid motion, before drawing the hood back.

The small amounts of light that shone from the chasm revealing her form.

Silver-white hair, falling in elegant braided crowns across her head, held together by a simple band wrapped delicately around the braids. Long loose curls of hair spilled down her back like liquid starlight.

Her face was striking — out of this world even. Features so perfect thet seemed almost sculpted by light itself.

Her complexion was pale, luminous and flawless, untouched by the cruelty of this world.

And that wasn’t even her most breathtaking feature. It was her eyes — a deep vibrant blue sky, cleansed of storm and cloud with a brilliance that pierced through the soul.

They did not hold any contempt nor coldness. Only patience and reassurance.

She smiled gently, extending her hand, lightly patting the Blood Baby’s head with a feather-light touch.

"It’s alright, you’re doing well." Her soft voice was like a steady chime that carried only a simple serene truth.

The Blood Baby, still wary, flared a red halo that spread across the cavern like a mist, scanning her for any killing intent.

The wave of crimson sensing nothing. No hostility or hatred.

"Do as you wish, I promise no harm to you." Her tone remained unchanging and comforting as the crimson light faded.

Blood Baby hesitated for a moment — then satisfied, it turned its focus back to Vergil, weaving itself once more to become his heart.

The woman simply remained, watching as the Blood Baby settled back into the boy. Gently, she shifted forward, her cloak swept against stone. Fluid as moonlight, she slipped an arm beneath the boy’s legs, the other cradling his back with careful precision.

Without strain or effort, she lifted him, as if he weighed no more than a feather.

That boy lay limp against her, his blood matted hair falling over her arm. Yet the woman held him with the utmost care — as though he were something precious.

Cradling him in a princess carry, she rose to her feet, her expression did not harden nor waver. Instead, her serene smile lingered.

She shifted her hold slightly, securing him closer against her chest, ensuring his broken body would jostle as little as possible.

"There we go," she murmured, her voice unshakably tender. "You fought so hard. Rest a little now."

The white spear on her back did not resonate.

Without glancing back, she turned towards one of the tunnels that led deeper into the cave, stepping lightly despite the boy in his arms.

Above them, what little light filtered through, illuminated her silver hair and pale cloak, wrapping them in an almost ethereal glow.

In her arms, the boy stirred faintly, unconscious but safe.

And so she carried him. Away from the ruin, into the unknown.