Susanoo tilted his head, his smile widening.
"I've become curious about you; it seems you have an interesting blade there," Vergil said, smiling.
But before he could answer, a different sound overlaid the muffled roar of Cerberus—a heavy, rhythmic beat, almost like a tribal drum echoing through the walls of Erebus.
The gates, still open from Hercules' passage, began to vibrate again, and a hot, dry wind blew through the hall. The torches danced violently, the flames flickering between gold and blue.
Wukong slowly closed his fan, his gaze narrowing. "Oh, no..."
Vergil noticed the tone in his voice. "Should I be worried?"
"It depends." Wukong sighed, crossing his arms. "If he's in a good mood, there might still be a roof left when he leaves."
Ada looked between them, confused. "Who is 'he'?"
