Chapter 462: They started going after Vergil
The sky above was a sickly gray, as if ti were suspended. No birdsong, no rustling of animals—only a strange wind that seed to blow in circles, as if the forest breathed of its own accord. Twisted trees, their trunks as black as coal and branches stretching like claws, ford a natural maze, suffocating and enigmatic.
There, in the heart of nothingness, stood Sapphire.
Alone.
Her dark cloak danced behind her, fastened to her shoulders by silver fang-shaped brooches. Her white hair, shining silver in the pale skylight, swayed in the sultry forest wind.
She looked around, her golden eyes assessing the shadowy expanse.
“Tsk…” she said, crossing her arms. “I’m lost again. Unbelievable.”
For a few seconds, she was silent, listening to her own heart—calm, bored, and vaguely irritated.
“Why am I even here?” she asked aloud, to no one. “Vergil already made it clear he didn’t want to be followed. He didn’t even leave a trace… that bastard.”
Another sigh. Long. Deep. Angry and bored at the sa ti.
“Then why the hell do I still care?”
The silence responded with a gust of cold wind. But Sapphire laughed, and her laughter sounded like a tallic tinkle in the poisonous air of that unholy forest.
“Ah… that’s why.” She smiled mischievously, her eyes sparkling with an almost childlike gleam. “Because it’s so much fun.”
She turned, taking the first step into the forest. And as she did, sothing changed.
The very earth seed to accept her presence. The forest closed behind her like a jaw. Nothing existed but her and that dark labyrinth.
But it wasn’t just Sapphire who walked through the Dark Forest at World’s End.
In the nearly infinite vastness of that domain that defied logic, ti, and space, other figures advanced—so of their own volition, others guided by destinies intertwined with Vergil’s.
Katharina stood in sothing that could be called a Lava Garden.
The landscape around her roared. Katharina stood, enveloped by a heat so intense that the air seed to tremble around her. The vegetation lted into liquid flas. Charred trees exhaled black smoke, and the ground crackled with slabs of volcanic rock that shifted beneath her feet like living pieces.
She walked through what appeared to be a garden of living lava, where flowers burst into flas and bushes were made of embers. Her blue eyes contrasted with the scorching landscape, cold as the steel she carried on her back.
“This is provocation,” she muttered, running her hand over the hilt of her sword. “Whoever created this damned Forest is a damned, infernal Bastard.”
Suddenly, creatures of magma began to erge from the ground. Flaming golems with eyes fused with sulfur. But she didn’t hesitate. One step forward and her blade was already dancing—swift, surgical, cold as death.
“Hey, you bastards. Get out of the way. I want to find my husband.”
She cut through the heat with her presence, as if the very fury of the forest were challenged by her unwavering discipline.
…Roxanne, on the other hand, was in a place called Windswirl.
The storm scread.
High above, among the vertiginous mountains of the forest, Roxanne walked steadily, even as the breath was being ripped from her lungs. Around her, hurricanes danced in uncontrolled whirlwinds, uprooting trees, destroying pieces of reality, and stitching together new spaces in the sa instant.
Her hair, tied in a makeshift bun, was already nearly loose from the wind. But she smiled. A smile from soone who enjoyed chaos.
“This is ridiculous,” she shouted into the wind. “Vergil, if you did this on purpose, congratulations. I’m so impressed… and almost dead!”
She crouched down, digging her feet into the loose soil, and spread her arms, channeling her own magic. The winds obeyed. Not completely—just enough for her to continue.
“Get out of my way. My husband will destroy this place if I don’t finish him first.”
And with a leap, Roxanne disappeared into the largest of hurricanes.
Ada, was on the Peak That Never Ends
At the top of a mountain where there was no summit, where each step created more height, Ada walked.
She walked straight along a steep path that never ended, as if the forest were trying to trap her in a cycle of futile ascent. The wind was icy. The landscape below was no longer visible—only clouds, mist, and emptiness.
She didn’t look tired. Just curious.
“This… is like a joke.” She muttered to herself, adjusting the long cape that flew like a flag. “A test of patience? A test of will? Tsk… it won’t work on .”
Every step was silent. Every movent deliberate. Ada was made on purpose, and the forest didn’t know what to make of her.
“I hope my husband is okay…”
Then sothing shimred ahead—a floating black crystal, pulsing with Vergil’s energy. She squinted and continued.
Up.
While so struggled, others were in their own personal paradises…
Raphaeline was in a River of Blood
The water wasn’t water. It was blood.
Raphaeline floated on a boat made of bones, gliding slowly down a dark red river, its surface only seemingly liquid. The forest there was silent… and reverent. Dead trees with pulsing veins leaned toward the river, as if fearing what Raphaeline carried.
She held a sword and kept a smile on her face.
“This place is older than ti,” she murmured. “I wonder how the others are. I’m quite content.”
She looked at the shore, where figures writhed beneath the skin of the earth, trying to get out, crying for help. She didn’t look away.
She was the truth of that world. Pure, cold, and inevitable.
Stella, however, was in a place known to demons: The Forgotten Abyss.
On the edge of a cliff that opened into nothingness, Stella stood still, her head held high and her arms crossed.
The sky there was even darker. As if everything beyond the edge was oblivion. The wind whispered lost secrets, and the ground cracked beneath her feet as if trying to coax her to fall.
But Stella wouldn’t fall.
She waited.
“I’m so bored…” she said, to no one. “Not even a little candy… damn…”
She looked down into the abyss. Sothing was flickering inside. A small light. A call.
She smiled sideways.
“You want to jump, don’t you?” She took off her shoes. “Then let’s see how far you’re willing to fall.” And without hesitation, she jumped. Why?
She was bored…
And the other person bored in this situation… well, that was Sepphirothy.
Sepphirothy was sitting on a wooden stump.
Alone.
Hair flowing like white silk, eyes half-closed. Her hands were resting calmly in her lap. The surroundings seed… dead. Not hostile, but more like a field where the war had long since ended.
“Send each of them to a different place… oh dear… I’ll just wait.” His voice was soft, sure. “He’ll co here.”
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