We'll talk later

Vergil shot an irritated glance at Alexa, his crimson eyes glowing in the dim destruction around him. But soon, he sighed, spinning his sword with disdain, as if all of this was still nothing more than a mere pastime.

"Ahh… You're right, but even so…" His voice carried a cruel boredom, his gaze shifting back to the mutilated Fallen Angel before him. The celestial being struggled to compose itself, trembling fingers pressing against the exposed flesh where one of its wings had once been.

Then, the pressure changed.

Vergil's aura began to rise, like a living shadow crawling across every inch of the battlefield. The air grew heavy, suffocating, as if the very space around them was being crushed under his presence.

Fear spread like a disease.

The Fallen Angels still present felt their instincts scream. A shiver ran up their spines, their wings bristling involuntarily. They exchanged glances for a brief moment before succumbing to absolute panic.