Chapter 2: [The Vow - 2]
//FYI, this used to be a Chainsaw Man x One Punch Man book but that's gone because it was my first one on this website, it was too shit so I yoinked it
Also, this is NOT literally fucking Vergil, but they do bear many similarities that will be more apparent later on.
Make sure to review this, it helps a lot to see a proper rating instead of five blank stars.
PS: I can yoink Rebecca out of the harem to have Asta get at least some resemblance of pussy, even thought I hate that short loud bastard.//
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A few days had passed and March was steadily coming closer and closer, and with it, the grimoire awarding ceremony. It was safe to say that Asta was beyond excited to finally get a grimoire and laugh in the face of all those that doubted him. Yuno was indifferent, confident in his skills while Vergil... well, his mana control was dismal at best.
It shouldn't come as surprising that he was... very nervous. The anxiety was getting in the way of his sleep and therefore his daily life, such as his work or training. He performed physical training on a daily basis, his job such a thing possible after all. But Vergil also had to try his damn hardest to get his mana to follow his instructions and actually do what he wanted. The best way to describe his attempts at using his magic can be best summed up as someone trying to control the water in an ocean with a wooden paddle.
The fact that he had no idea what to actually do with the mana that he grasped outside of just trying to push it out in any shape or form possible probably didn't help his case. No particular element spoke to him, water, fire, ice, water, lightning and earth were all fine in their own right, but they weren't what he was looking for... Air was out of the picture because Yuno technically had his Wind Magic and Vergil was no copycat, not by a longshot.
So, here he was again, in the dead of night standing outside his home, the church, with barely anything on himself. A white cotton shirt, a pair of loose brown pants and his regular boots. He was sitting in his usual spot by the church with his book in hand. That book was presumably older than he was, as it was the only object present on himself when he was left behind on the doorstep of this shabby church. The name "Vergil" was apparently written on the inside of the book with a pencil in beautiful cursive handwriting that said "Property of Vergil". However, it has long since begun to fade. That fading text was the only trace that this man had of his heritage, of his family. And, to make his life miserable, it had simply begun to fade away.
Vergil was reading to help calm his mind, but it wasn't working. Not even William Blake's poetry could help soothe his train of thought. It was frustrating, so very frustrating that he couldn't simply just make a big explosion with a snap of his fingers and be done with the whole magic thing. But, that wasn't really what he wanted. Not even close. Sure, he wanted to get through this situation without disappointing anyone, but his pursuit was a lot more self-centred than even his family and friends would believe.
He wanted to impress the people that raised him and the people that he grew up with.
And to do such a thing, he needed damn impressive magic- NO. Just... ANY magic would be fine about now. Anything!
"Sigh."
Vergil slammed shut his book and placed it onto the wood beside him. Then, he took a deep breath before placing his palms above one another on his lap and closing his eyes. He concentrated as much as he could on the mana he could sense. At first, a complete sensory overload shadowed his sense as the mana he could sense wasn't tremendous in quantity or quality, it was just that the range he could sense it in was that big.
He narrowed down his vision through sheer concentration, more and more until only he was left in an empty world of blackness. He could see it even through his closed eyes, blue like the sky and partially transparent like liquid, yet moving similarly to a slow-burning fire. His mana. He could see it, feel it, and yet, he couldn't so much as properly control it.
A bead of sweat trickled down his brow as he tirelessly tried to push his mana towards his arms, then, towards his open palms. But it was difficult. It was like trying to form a picture on the surface of a lake with a toothpick. Or like trying to push a boulder in a very specific direction. Difficult, and seemingly impossible. It was so very, very frustrating! It angered Vergil to no end to be unable to control such vast amounts of mana efficiently. Imagine all the things he could do if it would have simply LISTENED TO HIM FOR ONCE!
Vergil grit his teeth as he continued to mentally push his mana across himself towards his arms, doing his best to do as much as he realistically could. It was difficult, but, in the end, he managed to gather just enough mana in his hands that they glowed in the darkness of his concentrated vision. But, when he opened his eyes, nothing was happening.
"...Dammit!"
He couldn't stop himself from loudly cursing and punching the wooden seat of the bench he was sitting on. The frustration mixed with anxiety was getting to him more and more each and every day. It was only a matter of time before he had to go out into the forest somewhere to yell his lungs out screaming profanities and punching random trees in fury.
Vergil had to take deep breaths to calm himself down before deeply sighing. He stared at his open palms in disappointment before he reached for his book again. He should calm his mind down before attempting to control his mana again. It would be best if he did so, otherwise, the results might be worse than the first time.
.............̡̨͡.̡͘.̸͘͢͞.̶̛.͢͏҉.͏͠͏.̡͞͏͏.̵͘.̶̷͝.̨̕͞.̧̢͢͠.̸̵̡́.̶̸̛́.̵̨͢.̷̵͞҉.............
?!
A strange, cacophonic whisper of a voice that wasn't really there, yet could still be heard made Vergil jolt slightly. Standing up at alert, he looked around, desperately trying to find the perpetrator. Maybe it was just some kids messing around, maybe it was a thief using some kind of magic on him to get into the church. He didn't know, and that's what really made the whole situation worse.
But... Vergil found nobody.
It was only him...
...................._̢̨̛̛͜-̸̷͢͝-͢͢͞-̢̀͜:͏̴̡͜͢.̵͘͜͟͜.̷̧̛.̷̶̧͜.̴͠͠͞:̀͝͠-̀̕͘....
THERE IT IS AGAIN!
That weird, twisted and unintelligible sound that was scarily reminiscent of someone whispering in his ear, yet nobody was there. A chill travelled down Vergil's spine as sweat started to pool down the sides of his face, clearly, he was afraid of whatever was out there. But, the whole situation worsened when he remembered a poem by Hughes Mearns titled "Antigonish".
{Yesterday, upon the stair,
I met a man who wasn't there
He wasn't there again today
I wish I wish he'd go away...}
{When I came home last night at three
The man was waiting there for me
But when I looked around the hall
I couldn't see him there at all!
Go away, go away, don't you come back anymore!
Go away, go away, and please don't slam the door... (slam!)}
..............................._̶̷̧͝-̧͘͢-́͡͠͠-̡͟͟:̧͢.̧̧̕͠....
{Last night I saw upon the stair
A little man who wasn't there
He wasn't there again today
Oh, how I wish he'd go away...}
...The strange yet ominous whispers became quieter and quieter with each and every word, yet that didn't ease Vergil's mind and heart at all. He was just about ready to fucking throw his book at anything that might jump at him from the bushes, but when he brought it up, he noticed something... peculiar...
"...What?"
What indeed. The trims of the book, the pages as well as many of its details were glowing a faint, bright blue colour that bore extreme similarity to his mana. Vergil didn't know why, or how, but unbeknownst to him, his book was always something... special. It reacted to the mana he had previously drawn to his hands, then, it activated when he touched it. But, how come this never happened before? Simple. Vergil values this book as much as he does his life, he would never have it in his hands when he's messing around with mana.
..................................
The glow and whispers ceased. Blinking rapidly to make sure this isn't some weird dream or a hallucination, Vergil inspected his book for any abnormalities and found... none. It was still his book and nothing had changed about it... He let out a long sigh of relief before plopping back down onto the bench, staring at his book with a curious stare.
"...Now this is interesting. What to do...?"
Vergil contemplated his options in silence, on one side, he could try to pour his mana into his hands and subsequently into the book, but doing so could have unforeseen effects. On the other side, he could do nothing and go back to bed, hoping to properly control his mana before the grimoire awarding ceremony...
The choice was quite obvious.
"Don't blow up in my hands."
And with those words, Vergil began to concentrate. He pushed and poured as much mana as he could into his hands, just like before. And, to his delight and surprise, the book began to glow just like before. A beautiful blue colour overtook the book's front cover as the lines illuminate Vergil in the darkness of the night.
......................_̶̛-̡͜͜-̵̸̕-̵͞͝_̶̀͡.̴̷̛....
That terrifying yet oddly familiar whisper came back.
........._͘-̢̡̢͞-̡̕͢͞͡-̴̵̴͠͏_̢̡̕.̵̵̷͡͏.͞͞.̸͢:̶͟͞.̶̨͟͜_̀҉̸-́̕͏-̵̡-̕҉̡͠...........
And it grew louder and louder, just like the glow from the book. Vergil immediately noticed that his mana was being siphoned by his book, it was like pouring water down an endless hole as the book consumed more and more mana he had. It straight up began pulling mana from the rest of his body, eating it like a greedy child would their mother's pie.
....͘͝͝.̨̢̧.̷̧̛͘.̸̨̨̧͠.̷̕.͏̢͟͟.̨̡̛̛.̢͠.̧̧͝.҉̢͠.̶͠.҉̵͘.̕͝͏.̡̧̀͝͡.̷̷.҉̧͘͜.̶͞.̕͜҉͡.͘͠.҉́҉.̴̨͢͠.̡̛͘.̡̧.́҉͏.͏̡͜͝͝.̵̧̀.̶҉҉҉.̸̛͢͞.́҉̵͠.̕͜͏̶҉.͏͜.̸̵̡͜.̡͜.̶̢̢̀̕.̵̷̢̀͜.̴͘.̷̶̷͟͠....
Until it stopped. The voice grew in intensity and volume, yet remained anonymous and undeciphered. Then, it YELLED before becoming quiet. The flow of mana from Vergil's body into the book had already ceased, and yet the book didn't stop its ethereal blue glow.
{"By a fantasy I've been possessed. My crime of passion that I can't confess. Now in the arms of a devil, I rest."}
Now, another voice came from within the book as it flew from Vergil's hands and opened its pages to him while floating in the air just a meter in front of him. The voice was gentle and feminine, like that of a mother, soothing and smooth, refined. Through his shock and surprise, Vergil listened diligently. Taking in every word as the pages of his book slowly began to turn by themselves...
{"Life of a vengeance, a passive test. Until the grave, I will rest. Engage the pressure until it crumbles. The existence of the lifeless back souls. Onward to the sacred battlefield. Where justification and limits are revealed. Tools of steel in rage they conquer. Weed out the killing of the victim's stalker. The powers proven to end the madness. Upon I take it to end the savage. The rays of light, a truth of meaning. To my father the blood is pleading. A justice rage for all to feel. With innocent cries and hatred squeals. The gore of evil seems to satisfy. When slain and maimed and pacified. My chosen torture makes me stronger. In a life that craves the hunger. A freedom and a quest for life. Until the end the judgment night. Watch the footsteps but never follow. If you want to live tomorrow. Steal a soul for a second chance. But you will never become a man. We'll fight until eternity. Come with me. We'll stand and fight together. Through our strength we'll make a better day. Tomorrow we shall never surrender."}
Then, the voice began repeating the last few lines. Intensifying in volume just a little bit every time it did so. The pages have stopped turning, now, there was only silence, the blue ethereal glow and Vergil. The voice beckoned him...
{"We'll fight until eternity. Come with me We'll stand and fight together. Through our strength we'll make a better day. Tomorrow we shall never surrender. We'll fight until eternity. Come with me We'll stand and fight together. Through our strength we'll make a better day. Tomorrow we shall never surrender. We'll fight until eternity. Come with me We'll stand and fight together. Through our strength we'll make a better day. Tomorrow we shall never surrender."}
With his determination set in stone, a simple movement of his hand allowed Vergil to just barely brushed his finger against the page of the book... and his whole world went haywire. Every single one of his senses, nerves and muscle fibres was overloaded with information that the brain, due to overstimulation, interpreted as pain. Vergil wanted to scream in agony, yet his voice failed him. He only writhed in agony on that damn wooden bench as glowing blue veins spread across his body. His eyes began glowing blue as his body began to seize, shaking at high speed while his throat desperately tried to get a scream out... He didn't even hear the words that the unknown voice spoke next...
{"I am thou, thou art I. Thou hast acquired a new vow. It shall become the wings of rebellion that breaketh thy chains of captivity."}
In an agonizingly slow fashion, the pain slowly faded and finally, Vergil's brain and body were allowed to rest. The possessed book had closed itself and floated down back onto its owner's lap where it belonged. On the cover of the book, a dot appeared, just in the centre of the large V that dominated the front cover. From that dot, a single leaf sprouted.
{"Faith."}
Then, another leaf came to be...
{"Hope."}
Now there were two leaves, and another soon joined...
{"Love."}
A three-leaf clover has been completed, and yet... another leaf sprouted forth...
{"Luck..."}
A four-leaf clover, the highest grade of grimoire in the clover kingdom. People that receive a four-leaf grimoire are destined for greatness... but Vergil was not such a simple person. A four-leaf clover was denied to him by the forces beyond salvation...
And so, a fifth leaf sprouted.
{"...And the Devil..."}
A five-leaf clover appeared on the cover of Vergil's book, turning it into what everyone would call a "grimoire". A signature staple of Clover Kingdom's magical library. But, a five-leaf clover was practically unheard of. Or rather... it was said to be cursed. Most of the population received three-leaf grimoires while the gifted received four-leaf grimoires... But it is said that only the cursed receive a grimoire with five leaves...
{"...It won't be in vain. To swallow all your pain. And learn to love what burns. And gather courage to return. Faces in the crowd will smile again. And the devil may cry at the end of the night..."}
And so, the voice faded into nothing as darkness and silence overtook Vergil's prone form once again. The only source of light was the full moon up above as beautiful constellations of stars came into view. But, Vergil was unconscious to see such beauty. Even in such an uncomfortable position as this, he found no strength left in his body to move so much as an inch. Even breathing was far too strenuous and he needed to do that to survive!
So... Vergil just laid there against the hard wooden body of a bench he himself had built previously. Luckily, no thieves or unexpected guests passed by, and he was left alone to enjoy a quiet albeit lonely night...
...
...
...
"..."
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone