Chapter 539: I’ve been genuinely curious to meet you
Vergil remained silent for a few moments.
His gaze was fixed on the woman before him, but his mind worked like a spinning blade.
This wasn’t just another powerful being. He had faced kings, demonic generals, even entities that proclaimed themselves immortal. But the presence before him carried another weight. It wasn’t simply strength or aura—it was a concept. An idea made flesh.
He took a deep breath, trying to ignore the cloying scent wafting from the teacup. Finally, he spoke:
“Where… exactly am I?”
The woman smiled, as if she had expected this question. Steam rose from her cup, reflecting the red light of the lake, and she answered with a calm so absolute it seemed mocking.
“You are… where I want you to be, Demon King.”
Vergil narrowed his eyes.
She continued:
“I’m connected to this planet. I can be anywhere and nowhere.” It’s a kind of semi-omnipresence… but only within my sphere of influence.” She paused, letting the silence weigh heavily. “I am the water that flows in the rivers, the earth that nourishes the crops, the air you breathe. I am raw nature, Vergil. The life force that sustains all that still endures.”
Her fingers glided slowly over the rim of the cup. A simple gesture, but one that made Vergil feel as if the entire demonic forest around him had trembled.
“This is how my sisters and I observe the planet we are bound to. Nothing escapes our gaze. Nothing that matters.”
She tilted her face slightly, her enormous hat casting even denser shadows.
“You are simply where I wish you to be.”
Vergil kept his expression composed, but inside, his mind churned. Semi-omnipresence. An uncomfortable concept, but one that made sense of everything he had seen since entering the Tree. He wasn’t in a physical space, not in the ordinary sense. She was in a reflection, a fold of reality created by this woman—no, by this entity.
And as if to prove she wasn’t taking anything seriously, Qliphoth tilted her head and laughed softly. A light, almost musical laugh.
“I must admit, it was fun watching you fight my dryad.”
Vergil blinked, confused, but only for a moment.
“…Dryad?” Her voice was low, almost a growl.
Qliphoth took a long sip of tea, her red lips leaving a mark on the dark porcelain. When she returned the cup to the table, her smile widened in delight.
“That woman in the white kimono,” she said as if it were obvious. “She’s a dryad.”
Vergil leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. The gesture seemed casual, but it was his way of hiding the feverish attention he was paying to every word.
“A dryad, you say…”
“Not just any dryad,” Qliphoth corrected, raising a slender finger. “My avatar. My humanoid form, limited and practical. A bridge between me and creatures like you, who need faces and voices to understand something greater.”
Vergil remained silent, allowing her to speak.
Qliphoth looked past him, as if speaking as much to herself as to her guest.
“A World Tree…” Her voice took on a deep timbre, as if each syllable echoed in all directions. “It’s not just a huge trunk with deep roots. It’s a concept that exists throughout the universe. An essential pillar, the foundation that allows life to exist.”
Vergil narrowed his eyes, but didn’t interrupt.
“Where there is no World Tree, there is no life. Not even the possibility of it. Planets without our presence are dead stones, forgotten in the void.” When a Tree grows in a place, it doesn’t just nourish—it defines. It shapes the reality around it. She smiled, showing off perfect, frighteningly white teeth. “We are both physical and spiritual. Anchors. Bridges.”
She raised her hand, and in her palm sprouted a small sapling made of pure crimson light. Its roots flailed like miniature tentacles, grasping at nothing.
“Given enough time, we can transform a barren planet into a garden.” Her eyes gleamed beneath the shadow of her hat. “We can terraform hostile worlds, shape the earth, the water, the air. And, if allowed, even raise a pantheon of gods of our own.”
Vergil arched an eyebrow.
“So that’s what you are? A goddess?”
Her smile widened in amusement.
“No, dear.” The word sounded like a poisoned caress. “I am something even the gods desire to possess.”
Vergil clenched his fists. He understood the implication. He understood why the dryad in the white kimono looked more tired than any other being he had ever seen. Existing as the avatar of something so coveted must be a hellish burden.
Qliphoth, sensing his thoughts, laughed again.
“Ah, yes. That’s why we are so sought after. Entire pantheons war over a single fragment of us. Because whoever controls a World Tree… controls life itself.”
Vergil leaned forward, his eyes flashing.
“And why are you showing me this?”
Qliphoth slowly crossed her legs, a gesture calculated to display every powerful curve of her body. The hat kept her shrouded in shadow, but the smile was there—feline, malicious, infinite.
“I just wanted to explain why you apparently don’t understand anything about this world. Well, I don’t blame you. After all, you’re a rather… irregular existence.” His voice dripped like sweet poison. “You’re the successor of that idiot demon god. And if you’re going to take his place, you need to understand how the world works.”
The name was unspoken. The title was enough.
Vergil gritted his teeth. For a moment, silence. The lake of blood around them bubbled intermittently, as if breathing. The forest in the distance seemed to watch, each branch tilting inward.
He finally broke the silence:
“So… the woman in white…”
“She’s part of me,” Qliphoth confirmed, almost gleefully. “My bridge. My voice in the world. You wounded her, of course, but that was useful. She needed to be tested as much as you.”
Vergil laughed softly, a harsh sound.
“Tested, huh?” I would have killed her if I wanted to.
“No, I wouldn’t,” Qliphoth replied firmly, raising a finger in his direction. “Not without facing me. And I haven’t decided if you deserve that honor yet.”
Vergil fell silent, but his sparkling gaze spoke louder than words.
Qliphoth then leaned back, toying with his cup again. The dark red liquid looked like tea, but the smell betrayed something else. Sweetened blood.
“The point is, I’ve been genuinely curious to meet you ever since you entered my personal forest.”