Chapter 738 - Battles occur while Vergil is depressed.

Time had long since ceased to have any meaning for Vergil, slowly dissolving into an empty, irrelevant concept, almost irritating in its own futility. There was no sun to mark the passing of days, no night to indicate rest, no environmental change to suggest progress or movement. Only that infinite sea of ​​shifting colors, always rearranging itself, always transforming, but never truly changing. Yet, somehow… months had passed. He knew it. Not by exact count, but by wear and tear. By the way his mind had been forced to spin in circles so many times that even his own thoughts began to seem like echoes of something he had already thought before.