Manifested power. Mizu knows Vergil means that in a literal sense. Her hands are warm, warmer than being indoors ought to make them, because the sword generates heat. It is not only as though the blade hasn't finished cooling down. Even the hilt is warm. She remembers scales under her hand. Mizu hopes Vergil walks about the way he wishes to look, though she could not blame him if it is not. Undoubtedly people would judge him for that form and make assumptions about him off it. It would be even harder to earn Lore should people avoid him out of fear.

Half-demon Vergil called himself and meant it literally. Mizu doesn't know what his demons are like, but she's familiar with how people treat someone born a mix of two types that should not mix. That in Vergil's case, people think should not mix. Just as she lacked a teacher to learn swordsmanship, Vergil did not have someone to teach him to make Mirage Edge. Her admiration for Vergil increases, different though the process of manifesting his power and forging a blade may be. It underscores how much of his fancier fighting style is self-made, and Mizu smiles a little. No matter how insane fighting him is, Mizu enjoys it, and she'll enjoy it even more after this.

The urge to rise, to take a fighting stance, and to practice with Mirage Edge is there, but Mizu remains sitting. Vergil did not give her permission to do that, and she will not take liberties with his sword. She runs a hand down the flat of the blade, enjoying its warm and design. Mizu does not covet Vergil's power. She relies on what she can do, but she respects it. She respects making this. Though she's seen all she needs to see of Mirage Edge, she holds onto it a little longer. Vergil could take it back at any time, not only by etiquette or force but by will. He lets her hold it and inspect it.

"That must have been hard," Mizu says. Not a compliment or an insult. "Now you are always armed, even when a fox spirit brings you to a new world."