A silver-laced demon-breaking bullet spun out of the barrel, drilling straight into the gaping maw of the parasitic demon flower's core the moment the muzzle flash faded.
Nero was a bit surprised by her own accuracy. She hadn't even aimed with her eyes—this shot was pure instinct.
But it didn't kill the thing.
The demon flower reeled back from the bullet's impact, thrashing wildly but refusing to die. Instead, it whipped its spiked vine-like tendrils, dragging its scarecrow host toward Nero.
Clearly, Nero's shot hadn't hit the real weak spot.
She immediately drew the other half of Light and Shadow, but held off on firing again. Her ammo was limited, and she needed to pick her target carefully.
As the scarecrow lunged with its blade, Nero spun out of the way, ducking under a swiping tendril. She countered with a spinning kick to the scarecrow's gut, then raised both guns, barrels stacked, and fired. The shots nailed the flower's bud, shielded by a tangle of tendrils.
"Too bad," Nero muttered, lowering her guns as the parasitic flower screeched and collapsed from the scarecrow's body, hitting the ground.
Her demon blood wasn't fully awakened. Forget transforming into a full demon—she couldn't even tap into her demonic energy. Unlike the Sparda family, who could infuse bullets with power or fire raw energy, Nero was stuck.
That was her state early in the Devil May Cry games too. Nero only started using demonic energy after getting the Yamato, and even then, it was tied to the blade itself.
No way around it—that's just how it is for a newly awakened demon. Dante could casually pump energy into his bullets and weapons, but Nero had to think twice. At least until she could wield Yamato properly.
With the parasitic flower gone, the battered scarecrow host slowly stood. It was the same kind of demon that had nearly killed Nero back in town—a raggedy sack wielding a blade, stuffed with vile demonic beetles.
Now, those black scarabs were spilling from the sack's wounds, crawling across its surface.
These low-tier demons weren't exactly brainiacs. Taking them down wasn't hard—just tear a big enough hole in the sack, and it'd fall apart.
Problem was, Nero didn't have a weapon for big wounds. Without demonic energy, Light and Shadow's bullets would only poke small holes through the scarecrow.
So, yeah, too bad.
"Hm?"
Nero, about to aim at another enemy, let out a puzzled sound. The two remaining parasitic flowers had their hosts turn on the now-freed scarecrow, slicing it into three pieces with their blades.
She hadn't expected demons to turn on each other. Looked like the forest's lord had a serious control streak, unwilling to let anything—demon or not—roam free in its domain.
The crushed beetles dissolved into a red-black mist, while the intact ones scattered. Nero twirled her guns, took a deep breath, and leaned forward, charging like a cheetah.
Her golden hair flared like a cape, catching the sunlight leaking through the broken ceiling, making her look like a bolt of lightning. She closed in on one enemy, vaulted into the air, and stomped on the scarecrow's knife-wielding joint. Tilting her head, she dodged a tendril, letting its blade-like tip pierce through her hair.
Then, with her right hand, she grabbed another writhing tendril, kneed the filthy sack to the ground, and jammed her left gun under the flower, firing three shots that obliterated its bud.
One down.
Nero flipped off the scarecrow, kicking it toward the last flower-parasitized demon. The poor sap didn't even get up before a blade impaled it, tearing it in half. The beetles struggled, pushing at the sack, but after the flower crushed a few more of their kin, they gave up and fled into the sewers.
One left.
This time, Nero couldn't rely on friendly fire. She'd have to deal with the scarecrow herself after killing the flower.
"Ammo check… three left, five right."
Math like that barely took a thought. Her focus stayed locked on the demon. It kept its distance, circling her, probing.
Then they moved at the same time.
The flower used its tendrils to vault into the air like a pole-jumper, its blade arcing toward Nero's head.
Nero charged forward, slipping out of the scarecrow's landing zone. Like before, she leaped, spinning mid-air, both guns trained on the demon, now defenseless in flight.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
The abandoned church echoed with the rhythm of a waltz. Nero spun with the recoil, firing three shots—left, right, left—a perfect three-beat measure.
The demon tried raising its blade to block, but Nero's first shot tore through the scarecrow's "hand." The heavy blade, ripped free by gravity, plummeted to the ground.
The next two bullets hit the parasitic flower's core dead-on, snuffing out its life.
Petals drifted down as Nero landed lightly, spinning half a circle and dropping to one knee to kill her momentum. Her long skirt fanned out on the church floor like a blood-red flower missing a petal.
Sunlight spilled across the floor, illuminating the dust kicked up in the fight, freezing the moment like an oil painting. Too bad demons didn't appreciate art. The now-freed scarecrow, weaponless, staggered to its feet, ruining the church's harmony.
It lunged instinctively at the nearest living thing—the only human in the church—and Nero kicked it back.
"Bet you'd make a great punching bag," she quipped, savoring the kick's impact, knowing the demon wouldn't get the joke.
The scarecrow flew, rolling twice before taking another kick that slammed it into the wall. When it hit the ground again, Nero's round-toed boot pinned it down.
Looking at the demon under her foot, she grabbed its dropped blade and stabbed it down with a vengeance.
The beetles inside went berserk, the sack thrashing wildly. But Nero just twisted the hilt, shoving the blade forward, nearly cutting the scarecrow in half.
The beetles couldn't hold the form together anymore, spilling out like a tide from the wound. Nero watched the demon go still, let go of the blade, and walked away.