The morning sun was high on the horizon, casting a golden hue upon Vaelmont. The cooling air breezed through the town as Vergil stirred and slowly opened his eyes.
Warmth pressed lightly against his side, as a faint chill brushed his skin.
He turned his head around to see Eleanor.
Lying close, her steady breathing was the only sound in the room.
She shifted in the night. Too close, and for a second the warmth pressed against him felt foreign and wrong to him.
"She moved again from the other side," he thought to himself.
Carefully shifting away from her. He sat up, running his hand through his hair. Without a word or glance, he put on his boots to step outside.
His destination was already decided.
The blacksmith.
Clank. Clank. The strikes of the hammer rang out in steady and unyielding rhythms. Sparks hissing across the workshop. Vergil entered as he watched the scene. Intrigued, as the heat rushed to meet him like a wall.
Vergil approached the anvil.
"Gilbert, I'm looking for a new weapon."
The blacksmith paused, placing his hammer on the anvil, eyeing him. "You always talk like that?"
Vergil looked up. "Like what?"
"Like you're... already somewhere else."
"Anyway, what do you need?"
"A sword and a shield."
Gilbert gave a grunt of acknowledgement and disappeared into the back. The clatter of shifting metal and crates followed, before returning and laying both items onto the table.
Vergil stepped forward, scanning them.
---
Iron Longsword
Attack: +10
A sturdy and well-worn blade. Formed from a mutation of type 2 iron. Although dulled from years of sharpening, it still remains. Reliable and built for endurance over elegance.
---
Reinforced Wooden Shield
Defence: +4
A round wooden shield with an iron rim.
---
Vergil slid his left arm through the straps of the shield, the leather creaking slightly as he adjusted them until they felt comfortable.
Simple. Functional. Dependable.
Sheathing the sword at his waist, he adjusted the shield on his arm.
"These will do the job."
Gilbert smirked, crossing his arms.
"They won't fail you… unless you fail them."
"Then I will believe in them." Vergil nodded, before turning to leave.
The sun had risen even higher, bathing the town in its golden light.
His weapons were ready.
Time to move forward.
"Sword and shield. Parry should synergise well with the shield. Basic Sword Mastery… solid match with the longsword."
He gave the blade a few test swings, getting used to the new feel. It was no masterwork, but that wasn't what he was looking for. He only needed it to kill.
"I need a mission. And I need real combat… but how do I unlock Arts?"
'System.'
[Yeah, what's up?]
"How do I unlock Weapon Arts?"
[Hold on, let me explain the difference first so you don't ask me this five more times.]
[First. Weapon Skills from basic combat techniques like Slash, Thrust, or Parry. They are the basic fundamentals. Repeating them in battle improves their efficiency and effectiveness over time, becoming active skills.]
[Second. Weapon Arts are advanced, refined combinations of multiple skills. These include techniques like Spiral Thrust (a stab infused with rotational force) or Moon Slash (a wide, sweeping arc for reach and impact).]
[Think of Skills as the building blocks, and Arts are what you build once you master those blocks.]
Vergil nodded slightly.
"So I sharpen my basics, then the stronger techniques come naturally."
[Skills are gained through repetition. Slash, stab, block, parry. The more you do them in combat, the closer they get to becoming defined techniques.]
[Once you refine your Skills enough, Weapon Arts will begin to form. Or, if you're lucky. You might learn them from a combat manual or a warrior who knows what they're doing.]
Vergil smirked.
"So it's fight and evolve. Makes sense. The best targets would be humanoid monsters, better reactions, and combat."
[You really like this now, don't you?]
"No."
[You do. You don't want to admit it.]
His decision made, he headed for the Adventurer's Guild.
---
The guild was lively as usual, dozens of voices mixing together along with the clatter of gear and the burst of laughter. The scent of parchment blended in with it, creating a strange atmosphere. Like a canvas painted with mismatched colours, ugly alone, but oddly vivid when blended together.
Vergil entered, heading to a familiar figure behind the front desk.
He approached without hesitation.
"Elina."
The auburn-haired receptionist looked up, her emerald eyes softening when she saw him.
"Oh...Vergil," she greeted, using the name on his adventurer tag. "What do you need?"
"I want an E-rank mission. Preferably one involving humanoid monsters with weapons."
Her smile faded slightly.
"You're still F-rank. That kind of mission is a step up."
"I know. I'm requesting it anyway."
She held his gaze for a long moment, then sighed and flipped open the quest ledger.
"All right… If you insist, I'll file this as your advancement request. Complete it, and you'll be eligible for E-rank."
Before Vergil could respond, a mocking chuckle broke through the ambient noise.
"Advancement request? Seriously?"
Vergil turned his head slowly.
A broad-shouldered man with greasy blond hair swaggered over. A cocky grin revealed a missing tooth, probably earned in one of the countless bar fights he lost. His patched leather armour looked like it hadn't seen oil in months, and the stench of sweat clung to him like a second skin.
Exactly the kind of fool Vergil had been hoping for.
The man slung an arm over Vergil's shoulder, leaning in. The weight pressed heavily, the stench crawling closer. Vergil's gaze flickered, but he did not resist.
"Going for E-rank already, rookie? You should stick to chasing slimes. Wouldn't want to see you end up as monster chow."
Vergil didn't react.
He let the arm rest. Let Darin feel smug.
Then:
'Analysis.'
---
Name: Darin Kross
Level: 5
Tier: 0
Title: Novice Warrior
Race: Human
Class: Warrior
Stats:
Strength: 20
Constitution: 17
Dexterity: 14
Intelligence: 10
Wisdom: 10
Magic Power: 0
Mana Capacity: 0
Equipment:
Iron Sword (F+) – Dull and nicked. Neglected from overuse.
Reinforced Leather Armour (F+) – Minor slash resistance.
Hunting attire (F) - Looks cool, I guess.
Passive Skills:
Tough Body (F+) – Slight boost to resilience.
Battle Instincts (F+) – enhances combat reflexes slightly.
Active Skills:
Power Strike (F+) – Heavy blow that can stagger weaker foes.
Quick Guard (F) – Emergency parry that reduces damage.
'System, did you really write that for his attire?' Vergil smirked inside.
[Hey it's hard describing everything, try doing my job.]
Vergil's lips curled into a faint smile.
'Anyway, it was perfect.'
Darin was arrogant, strong enough to think he was invincible, but weak enough to kill without drawing suspicion.
He spotted two lackeys loitering behind Darin. Typical. Dogs followed their master.
Three birds. One trap.
Vergil slowly removed Darin's arm and met his eyes.
"I don't take advice from F-ranks who've been stuck here for aeons."
The grin cracked. A vein pulsed in Darin's temple.
Vergil leaned in slightly, voice low.
"I heard the only reason you're still breathing is because the monsters feel sorry for you."
Darin's face twisted, yet Vergil had already turned back to Elina, speaking loudly enough for the guild to hear:
"I'll take the mission at Deadleaf Hollow. The one involving Grave Scavengers."
A hush spread. Darin stiffened.
Elina looked uneasy.
"You sure? That area's isolated."
"I'm sure," Vergil replied smoothly. "Unless the monsters are as pathetic as some of the adventurers here."
A ripple of laughter and gasps moved through the crowd.
Darin clenched his fists, face darkening, but he didn't lash out.
Not here. Not in front of witnesses.
But later? In the Hollow? Away from prying eyes?
He'd come.
He'd bring his little gang.
He'd think it was his trap.
And that's what made it perfect.
Vergil stepped away from the counter, the weight of his sword and shield grounding him.
This wouldn't just be a mission.
It would be a message.