Vergil rapidly pierced his sword into Drakkon's abdomen, over and over like a wasp stinger, took a step back, then dashed forward with one last thrust to end the battle.

He'd meet him head on. With one dagger, he kept up his guard, deflected the sword, the other swiped to slice him apart at the neck. He grit his teeth, endured the pain, the lightheadedness that came with blood loss, and swung to cleave the head off of this devil.

"Perhaps I should abandon this battle," said Vergil. "Attack the small pink haired girl instead. Maybe your companion, Xemnas."

Hesitation. Fear. Something deep within Drakkon stayed his hand for a fraction of a fraction of a second. For a devil who viewed time as a plaything, that was more than enough opportunity. He swung his head back, Drakkon's swing went wide, and only knocked the fedora off of his head. The devil's bangs nearly covered his eyes.

- LetterSequence Round 5