The two demonic colossi roared, and the earth shook. The first—the Magma Titan, its immense body, wings raw, each movement spewing embers—raised its arm like a mountain and slammed it into the ground, spraying waves of liquid fire. The second—the Skeletal Shadow, slender, wreathed in living smoke, eyes of absolute emptiness—glided through the air like a specter, long claws raking the space and leaving trails of darkness that closed in suffocating spirals.
Vergil advanced first.
The katana was raised in a smooth motion, and then the world seemed to shatter with speed. A clean cut sliced through the air, so fast that the titan's own roar was cut in half. The blade glowed blue, the shock of condensed energy cracking like thunder.
The Magma Titan took a step back, its chest splitting open in a fiery line—but instead of blood, lava flowed from the cut, bubbling.
Vergil didn't flinch. He smiled. "Beautiful. You bleed lava."
