When it came down to it, Nero had been way too cocky about this whole mess.
Dante's assassination of the Pope was still a month out, meaning everything up to that point was just intel-gathering and prep work. Knowing Dante, a guy with zero patience, it wasn't a shock he'd let Trish handle things solo for now. So, with no clue when Dante would actually show up, Nero shouldn't have just assumed he was already on the island.
She'd let herself get swept up in the heat of her fight with Credo, too. Credo was already half out of his mind, thanks to Agnus's taunts, but even Nero—seemingly the calm one—lost her edge. The second Kyrie got taken, Nero's brain checked out, leaving her running on instinct and panic.
Her original plan? Simple: convince Credo to team up and confront the Pope together. But somewhere in the chaos of their brawl, she forgot the script. Instead of figuring out how to keep Credo alive, she ended up trying to shove him out of the picture and pin her hopes on Dante.
She knew Credo would never abandon his mission to save Kyrie himself.
"Ugh…" Nero gritted her teeth, shoving against the blade of Durandal to yank it free from her body. She tossed the sword at Credo's feet.
Panting, she slumped to the ground for a moment. When she looked up, Credo was kneeling in front of her, looking like a lost puppy. She couldn't help but let out a weak laugh.
"You're laughing? What's so funny?!" Credo snapped, his worry giving way to irritation. Then, softer, "You sure you're okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine now," Nero said quietly. "Credo, you should go."
Her sudden shift in attitude threw him off. He squinted, confused, and Nero added, "But promise me one thing."
Credo's brow furrowed. "What?"
"Don't do anything rash," she said, dead serious. "Wait for me局 until I get there. They won't hurt Kyrie until then."
Credo stayed quiet for a moment, then asked, "You're still coming?"
He didn't wait for an answer. Stepping back, he transformed in a burst of holy light. "I'll agree, but you owe me an explanation later. About what you know. About all that weird stuff you said."
Before Nero could respond, he turned and soared toward the Order's headquarters.
"…Stubborn jerk," Nero muttered, watching him vanish into the distance. Then she pushed forward, stepping through the headquarters' grand gates.
Problem was, things just got a whole lot trickier. Dante, her safety net for this whole operation, still hadn't shown up. If things kept going like this, not just Credo, but Kyrie and even Nero herself could be in serious danger.
If it came to it, Dante would roll into Fortuna alone. With his skills, he'd probably tear through the Savior and the Pope, snatch Yamato and Sparda's blade, and call it a day. But if Nero got absorbed into the Savior? No way she'd be walking out of that one.
If too much time passed, the odds of her being freed from the Savior with Yamato—like in the game—were slim to none. And Kyrie, who got sucked into the Savior in the game too, along with Credo trying to save them both… Nero didn't even want to think about that outcome.
Could she take down the Pope without Dante?
Passing through the outer gates, the Order's headquarters loomed before her—white, angular, like a massive tombstone. Built in the last decade to hide the colossal "Savior" statue, it had replaced the old Fortuna Castle in the snowy mountains as the Order's base.
Before she could enter, though, she had to cross the ornate sea bridge stretching ahead. And at its end, five demons stood guard before the main doors.
Four were Silver Knights, ones Nero had tangled with before, armed with lances and shields, circling protectively around the fifth.
The fifth, Nero recognized: a Gold Knight, an upgraded Silver Knight wielding a longsword eerily similar to Credo's. It was already hovering in the air.
These guys left an impression. Under the Gold Knight's command, they formed an ironclad defense, attacking in relentless, near-flawless waves. The only way to break through was usually to use the Devil Bringer to grab an attacking knight and use it as a shield—annoying as hell.
But that was just Nero's problem. Uncle Dante? He'd just go Devil Trigger, spam "yahoo!" and call it a day. Dad Vergil? One "Judgment Cut: End" and they're all toast. Only Nero had to overthink this crap.
The Gold Knight raised its sword, and the four Silver Knights took flight, maintaining their formation. Blue smoke trailed from their wing-jets, signaling they were ready to blitz.
The first Silver Knight charged, lance forward, but Nero had cracked the code on these head-on assaults during her fight with Credo. She equipped Gilgamesh, shifted her weight forward, and whipped her right leg back like a coiled spring.
Her roundhouse kick was timed perfectly, catching the lance two-thirds down its side with her shin. Impact Steel kicked in, and the knight, refusing to drop its weapon, spun like a top.
But that alone wouldn't break their lance formation. The second Silver Knight was already closing in, clearly not giving Nero a chance to follow up. Her last attack only disrupted the charge—no real damage to the knight's armor.
If she couldn't find a way to punch through, she'd just get worn down, stuck on this bridge forever.
In that split second, Nero flung Echidna's whip, snaring the spinning Silver Knight. As it whirled past her, the whip tightened, binding it completely. The momentum dragged Nero away from the others, hurtling toward the bridge's iron railing.
The whip's pull closed the gap fast. When she was close enough, Nero leaped, planting both feet on the knight to stop its spin. With Gilgamesh equipped, she grabbed its right arm, smashed a fist into its elbow, and ripped the lance—along with half the arm—clean off.
The second Silver Knight's charge was almost on her, but Nero was ready. She drove the stolen lance through the first knight, pinning it to the bridge's stone tiles.
One down.