Fing. Fing. Fing.
Vergil remained aside, watching the scene with slit ice blue eyes, idly twirling Echo in a slow steady circle. Did these full blooded demons truly have such a low view on him that they would underestimate his intellect? Did they not realize what he was capable of, that he could be present in different locations all at once without physically manifesting, that he was omnipresent and...no. No, of course they didn't. They weren't playing him the fool - they were merely poorly educated about certain demonic artefacts.
Fing. Fing. Fing.
Ludicrous that they would do something as reckless as destroy the power source of the hellgate. Because of him. As if he needed it, now with the Sceptre safely stored away in his possession. Unimaginable power at the tip of his fingers. Then again, a little bit more wouldn't hurt.
Fing. Foop. Fing. Foop. Fing. Foop.
The double bladed sword in his hands changed its course and casually cut the empty air in front of him in an endless string of W's. Vergil paced the perimeter of the scene, watching Xevnas unleash his fury on the swarm of lesser demons. The youth seemed to have a problem with authority, a preference to taking matters into his own hands, oddly similar to Dante.
Foop. Fing. Foop. Fing.
Echo picked up speed. Similar to Dante, but far from his brother's veteran status. The boy lacked direction - a suppressed leader forced to follow a team. He had power. He had skill, as Vergil observed Xevnas cutting down foes without hesitation. The boy had spunk.
FING. FOOP. FING. FOOP.
Vergil's thoughts flicked briefly to another youth he'd ran into - the boy with Yamato. Xevnas may not have the fire that Nero did, but he made a decent match. Yes, Xevnas could indeed prove to be a worthy apprentice...
With devious intent, Vergil gripped the hilt of Echo tighter, and let the surge of his inbred power lose upon the blade in his hand. He stepped forward, and swiped Echo through the air in a diagonal gash.
FOOOOP.
A sharp flare of light blazed across the ground and crashed into the walls of the surrounding buildings, slicing every offensive demon in half and sending those left over to scuttle from the scene. He sheathed the sword with deliberate slowness.
Vergil walked forward, and he began to circle the furious youth. His expression was a canvas of indifference, but his voice dripped with mockery when he addressed Xevnas.
"Perhaps a spar with me will aid you in regaining your composure," Vergil suggested, and unsheathed Echo with cat-like reflexes, aiming the sharp edge at Xevnas. "You're no use to anyone if you allow your emotions to consume your logic. So what of it then, boy?"