The entire mansion seemed smaller when Vergil was like that.
He paced back and forth in the main room, heavy steps, jaw clenched, fingers opening and closing as if he were forcing himself not to destroy something just to relieve his anger.
Three days.
Three days.
Three days since Sapphire disappeared into hell.
Three days since Katharina vanished from the human world.
And with each passing minute, Vergil seemed to get… worse.
Novah sat on the sofa, her arm partially regenerated, skin still marked by healing runes. Viviane, kneeling beside her, kept her hands raised as the teal glow of her spiritual magic slowly stitched the flesh together.
Vergil stopped pacing for a split second—only to explode again.
"How did you lose sight of her, Novah!?"
The voice made the windows vibrate.
Viviane kept her magic active, but pressed her lips together.
Novah tilted her head, too afraid to look at him. Her voice came out hoarse, tired:
