The final clash of the spears echoed through the training room like a deep metal bell. Vergil parried Sapphire's strike with the shaft angled, turned his body, and tried to break her line from the side, but Sapphire retreated half a step, used the weapon's own reach to lock his advance, and smiled when she realized he was no longer making the initial mistakes. His posture had changed. It was still Vergil, still that cold, dominant precision in every movement, but the spear was beginning to obey its own logic in his hands.
"Better," she said.
"You have said that before."
"And now I am saying it with less irritation."
"Progress."
Sapphire laughed, spinning the spear one last time before resting it against her shoulder. "For you, yes."
