A moment later, Credo pulled back, taking a step to regroup. He raised his left wing-shield to guard himself, while his right hand drew back, conjuring a massive spear of radiant light.
Nero wasn't about to let him snipe her from a distance. She closed the gap fast, cutting off his chance to unleash a long-range attack.
Credo, unfazed, slammed the light spear into the ground, splitting the granite plaza like it was paper. The spear exploded, sending golden shards raining down on Nero like a hailstorm.
No way she was charging through that. Nero stomped the ground, using the recoil from her Impact Steel to launch herself high, dodging the closest barrage. She curled into a ball midair, shielding herself with Gilgamesh's arm and leg guards as she dropped back to earth.
Credo surged forward, shield raised, cutting through the explosion's haze. He swung his wing-shield like a racket, aiming for Nero's landing spot.
If that hit landed, Nero—stuck in midair with no leverage—would've been swatted straight into the sea. Looked like Credo was playing badminton with his adoptive sister.
But it also showed he wasn't fully committed to this fight. Deep down, he just wanted to shake Nero off so he could confront the Pope face-to-face.
As the shield came swinging, Nero, still slicing through the debris rain, unfurled her body. She kicked the air, demonic energy flaring to boost her height again.
A clumsy double jump—barely a jump at all, really. More like she canceled out gravity and inertia for a split second, hovering just long enough. But it was enough.
That extra moment in the air let her dodge Credo's swing. She planted a foot on his shield, using it as a springboard.
Even with Gilgamesh's weight, Nero couldn't overpower Credo's shield arm—not with their size difference. No way she was pinning him down in midair with raw mass.
So she switched tactics. Riding the momentum of Credo's shield swing, she leaped again, flinging Echidna's whip to snare the shield. She yanked herself through the air, landing behind him. Her whip-blade coiled around Credo for half a loop.
Before he could turn, she pulled again, slingshotting herself to his unguarded side.
Credo caught on quick—Nero was trying to tie him up. But that shield, fused to his demonic form, wasn't something he could just ditch.
He dropped to one knee, plunging his longsword into the ground. A swarm of light swords materialized, raining down across half the plaza.
The move tugged Nero right into the sword shower's range. She stuck to her playbook, drawing Yamato and unleashing a burst of demonic energy to carve out a safe zone, keeping the blades at bay.
"Soul of Lombardy!" Nero belted out a hymn, mimicking Credo as she drove Yamato into the ground. But it was a feint, just like Vergil's own sheathing trick. The blade didn't pierce earth—it tore through space, teleporting its edge right to Credo's face.
"?!"
Credo snapped his shield up, barely blocking the sudden strike. He yanked his sword free and lunged, firing a swift, crescent-shaped light blade at Nero.
Now that she'd shown Yamato's space-warping attacks, Nero knew Credo wouldn't bolt. She rose, flicking her blade to shatter his light blade, then slashed the ground, leaving a glowing scar where her demonic phantom slowly formed. "You cooling off yet?" she asked.
Credo hovered, wings beating, his demonic face unreadable. His voice was heavy. "What are you really trying to say?"
"Don't go see the Pope."
That was a nonstarter for Credo. "Are you joking? What about Kyrie?!"
"I'll handle it," Nero said, locking eyes with him. "I'm stronger than you."
"This isn't about who's stronger!"
Credo's voice turned sharp, commanding. "I'm the Knight Commander! You're just a demon-possessed sinner! Get that through your head!"
"No, you get it. Knight Commander? Big deal. Does the Pope give a damn about what you think?"
"Then it has to be me!"
Nero took a deep breath, her voice steady after a sharp inhale. "Credo, do you still believe in the Order?"
"You're asking me to betray our faith?" His tone surged, raw and unsteady.
Nero shook her head. "Our faith is in God—in Sparda. Not the Order."
The implication was clear: the Order itself had betrayed their true faith.
Credo fell silent. After a moment, he landed, still in his demonic form, gripping his sword tighter. "Then I need to see it for myself. And if it's true, I'll cut down the sinners who betrayed God with my own hands."
Nero stared at Credo, his resolve unshaken. Finally, she said it: "You'll die."
Credo squared his stance. "You still gonna try to stop me, Nero?"
Nero raised Yamato, pointing it at him. That was her answer.
Words weren't getting through anymore. There was only one thing left for Nero to do.
Credo's wings flared, his body transforming into a piercing lance of light as he charged, sword aimed straight for Nero.
"Victims of war—" Nero sang the second verse of her hymn without hesitation. She backstepped, spun, and slashed the air with Yamato, leaving a glowing sword mark. As Credo's charge met the mark, Nero whirled forward, layering another strike atop the first, amplifying its power.
Then she belted the hymn's second half: "—pitiful fools, fighting their own kin!"
The double strike knocked Credo's sword upward, breaking his charge. But even off-balance, he recovered fast, turning his momentum into a stepping slash.
"Please, Credo!" Nero sidestepped the vertical cleave, then leaped back to dodge the holy light erupting from the ground. "Don't go do something stupid on your own!"
The slash's shockwave tore at Nero's tattered skirt, making her look fragile against the chaos. Credo dragged his sword, carving an arc in the ground. "You going to face the Pope alone is the real stupid move!"
"It's not the same!"
"How's it different?!"
A meter apart, they locked eyes, neither backing down, both brimming with defiance.
Credo summoned a glowing sword array behind him. Nero gripped Yamato two-handed, blade forward, raised to eye level.
They stepped forward in unison, blades clashing. Yamato's spatial slash cut through the floating swords, meeting Credo's Durandal in a shower of sparks.