Shoko Toyokawa didn't answer. She merely flicked her hand, and the Demon Pillar beneath her sprang into action at her command.
A deep purple miasma spewed from its body, followed by a barrage of magic orbs that ignited on impact. Nero leaped upward to dodge the explosion, channeling the demonic stone within her. Emerald feathers sprouted as she transformed into her Sin Devil Trigger form, soaring higher. With a roar, she summoned a massive crimson blade, plunging it toward the ground.
At the same time, Nero herself swung Yamato, slicing through space, her blade aimed straight for the composed Shoko.
Truth be told, Nero didn't have to fight her. But for her, this was both about staying true to her persona and a chance to probe the enemy's strength. Though neither Shoko nor this world—her power's source—carried the scent of the Original Sin of Lust, Nero hadn't forgotten what those werewolves had said that night:
"Look at the moon… crimson, beautiful…"
That meant their creation was tied to this blue-haired demon. And if you thought about it, Shoko and her allies—humans turned demons—weren't so different from those werewolves.
Shoko tugged her skirt and leaped back lightly, vanishing from the Demon Pillar's surface. A plaster-colored giant hand erupted from behind the pillar, smashing into Nero's conjured blade with a single punch, shattering it from the side. Nero's eyes narrowed. Emerging halfway from the earth was none other than the long-collapsed Savior. Its fist was half-ruined, but it had undeniably blocked the attack for the Pillar.
This raised a question that baffled Nero. Shoko and her companions excelled at summoning and controlling familiars, but without those abilities, their own combat prowess was… well, pretty pathetic. In the Devil May Cry world, that was downright bizarre.
Even the mightiest demon, Mundus, fell to betrayal by his own underlings. In the demon world, where only the strong survived, demons trusted in their own raw power—physical strength that could never betray them. A demon specializing in mental or spiritual abilities? Nero had never heard of such a thing.
But maybe it made sense. If this setup let Shoko and her crew retain their human minds after becoming demons—unlike those crazed werewolves—it could explain a lot.
"If all you can summon are a bunch of has-beens, this world doesn't seem like much," Nero taunted, gripping her blade with one hand as her wings kept her aloft, her voice dripping with confidence.
But that only made her more curious about the demon who'd created this world and mastered the art of safely turning humans into demons.
"Such a rude guest," Shoko said, reappearing atop the Savior's head. If the former Pope Sanctus could see this, he'd probably lose it on the spot.
She continued, "But since you were polite enough during your visit, I'll humor you with a little chat. Surely your trip here isn't just about 'slaying demons,' is it?"
Of course not. Nero had two goals in coming to find Shoko. First, to rule out a suspect and figure out which side the power of Lust was hiding on.
Second, to get an answer to one burning question.
"Where are all those missing girls?" Nero demanded.
That was it. The second goal was to determine whether Shoko and her demonized allies were good or evil. If Nero confirmed they were using their demonic powers for harm, that they'd lost their humanity and fallen to darkness…
She'd cut them down without hesitation.
"No comment," Shoko replied coolly. "All I'll say is they're alive. Alive, they're useful to us."
"Is that so?"
Nero tightened her grip on her blade.
Playing riddles, huh? Fine. You play riddles, I play rough.
Fair's fair.
Don't worry, it won't hurt too much. Since those missing girls are still alive, Nero figured she'd at least leave Shoko breathing.
With that thought, she raised her blade again.
Her Pride Sin Devil Trigger form wasn't fancy—just raw power, high recovery, and overwhelming force. Perfect for crushing weaklings. Exactly what she needed right now.
Like she'd said, these were just a bunch of losers. Numbers didn't matter against Pride.
If they were defeated once, they'd stay down and bow!
The power of Astral Zenith activated, and the shades of Rama and the Savior—echoes of Nero's past memories—felt their magic stutter, unable to attack at full strength. Nero glared down at Shoko with disdain, silently daring her: Show me your real power. Show me what this world's truly got. Or else…
"Perfect," Shoko said, meeting Nero's gaze, her eyes blazing like fire. "You've been a thorn in our side for a while now. Time to settle the score!"
The half-buried Savior burst from the ground, soaring into the sky. Its massive height gave it the edge, letting Shoko, perched on its shoulder, look down on Nero. At its feet, countless demons Nero recognized materialized in a dense swarm.
Nero didn't even bother glancing at them. Scarecrows, parasitic chimera flowers, Fausts, assault soldiers—small fry. No matter how many there were, they'd just get obliterated by the shockwaves of her attacks.
These chumps couldn't touch a single feather on her wings.
A chaotic red-black orb formed above Nero's head, the prelude to her next full-power strike. This blow would obliterate the Savior and shatter the Demon Pillar!
But Nero had miscalculated one thing.
Just as she prepared to unleash her attack, a flash of emerald green shot into the sky. Claws glowing with the same verdant magic tore through Nero's conjured orb, and a hand seized her throat.
In Nero's stunned gaze, a silver-haired, red-eyed figure cloaked in emerald feathers drew a Yamato blade of her own, slashing at Nero without mercy.
It was her.
Shoko's elegant, restrained laughter echoed from above. Standing atop the Savior, she said with calm confidence:
"Who said I could only summon your enemies in this world?"