Vergil turned, wiping the blood from his chin once more with the back of his hand. His shoulders were heavy, but his tone remained firm, mocking:
"Well, do what you want, just don't involve me in these things. I have to master this forest." Her voice echoed through the rubble, dry, defying the suffocating silence that Naberius's power had imposed.
Her sword still burned, red and gold flames flickering like hungry tongues. Naberius tilted her head, observing him as if he were a rare piece on a board known only to her.
"Do you really think you can 'master' this forest?" Her voice was low, but so penetrating it seemed to sink into the skin of all who heard it. "It's not just a mass of trees and mist, boy. This forest breathes. It moves. It adapts. It was built like a living labyrinth, a matrix of confusion to deceive even the eyes of the heavenly." Vergil paused for a moment, turning slightly to face her again.
