You let your guard down

The following day, an improvised battlefield in the heart of the Underworld. 

The chosen arena was a desolate expanse, where the dark rocky ground seemed to pulse with demonic energy—a place carved by Vergil's own hands. Yes, the mountain he had flattened with his demonic energy just a few days prior. At its center, Vergil stood with Yamato in his right hand, the sheath firmly secured at his waist. His posture was rigid, his cold eyes fixed on the figure approaching with an almost provocative calm. 

Sapphire, his ruthless master, moved with the elegance of a predator. Her steps were slow, deliberate, and every movement she made carried the weight of impending disaster. Her presence was suffocating, an oppressive mix of power and menace. The deep-blue garments she wore clung to her like smoke, rippling in harmony with the energy that radiated from her, saturating the air around her.