Dante gazed at Vernasha with half-lidded eyes, suspicion and curiosity glimmering beneath his calm expression. His senses — sharpened by his bond with the impure — picked up something unusual. His brow furrowed.
— You… are hiding something, aren't you? — his tone was low, almost serpentine. — That aura… it's as if you're suppressing a beast inside yourself.
Vernasha met his stare, unflinching, serene.
— We'll discuss that later… — Dante murmured, his eyes narrowing, dangerous.
He closed his eyes briefly, drawing in a slow breath. When they opened again, his voice carried both disdain and certainty.
— And this barrier? — he said, his aura flickering faintly, as though something restrained his true presence. — It's subtle, nearly invisible… but it's there. Something in this world is suppressing all that is demonic, all that is born of corruption. What is this energy? What cowardly force dares to shield humanity from extinction?
Vernasha stepped forward, her gaze a mix of sorrow and conviction.
— After your death, Dante… the survivors created the Primordial Barrier. An eternal field, woven through sacrifice, ancient seals, and humanity's desperate will to keep existing. It weakens demons and chaos alike. It allowed civilization to rise again… to breathe again.
For several seconds, Dante was silent.
Then laughter erupted from him — loud, savage, echoing against the ancient walls like thunder rolling through a dead valley.
— Hahahahaha… Ingenious. Cowardly, but ingenious. Now… now I know exactly how to break it.
He sneered.
— That fool actually thought she could contain me…
Dante slowly turned his head toward Tenklyn, who lay broken on the ground — bleeding, missing an arm, barely clinging to life. The smile that twisted across Dante's face was dark, almost profane.
— And to think… the key might be you, boy. Your power… it grows stronger with emotion, doesn't it? That raw Ether, that unstable radiation… — his gaze shifted toward Aisha and Akira, noticing their matching uniforms. — I see now. You're connected.
He crouched slightly, voice soft and venomous.
— Tell me, Tenklyn… what would you do if I killed them both — right before your eyes?
Aisha stepped in front of Akira. Both knew there was no time to hesitate. They were broken, wounded, and bleeding — but retreat was no longer an option. Mei's honor, her hope, her life — all of it depended on them.
Aisha wanted nothing more than to cut through Vernasha, to free Mei with her own hands — but Dante stood between them. A hellish sentinel. She knew she couldn't bypass him.
Dante spread his arms, mocking.
— Come, then. Show me what this decadent generation has to offer. Show me the strength of the so-called elite of your modern world.
Aisha and Akira charged together. Even stumbling, even with their bodies screaming for rest, their eyes burned with an unbreakable will.
— Akira! Go after Vernasha! — Aisha shouted. — I'll hold him off!
Without hesitation, Akira broke off, sprinting toward the sorceress. Aisha faced Dante head-on, her blade steady in her trembling hands.
The clash was immediate — and merciless.
Dante moved with lethal grace, even within his new vessel, every motion precise and fluid, as if death itself danced through him. He dodged Aisha's strikes effortlessly, analyzing her every move like an artist judging an unfinished painting.
— You have technique — he said with a cruel smile. — But if that's all you are… you're worth nothing.
While Aisha kept pressing, Dante's eyes gleamed. He gathered raw energy into his hand — and unleashed it.
A blast, dense as divine wrath, struck Akira square in the ribs. The impact hurled him across the field, his body twisting midair before he crashed and rolled, coughing blood and grit.
— Too weak — Dante muttered, turning back to Aisha. — Though… I think something in me just awakened. Let's see.
His attacks grew faster, heavier — not just cruel, but methodical. He struck at her joints, reopened wounds, shattered defenses with surgical precision. A deep gash tore across her collarbone; her wrist cracked with a dry snap. She dropped to her knees, gasping, yet still clinging to her sword.
Dante's voice rose, manic, echoing like a proclamation of doom.
— PAY ATTENTION, TENKLYN! — he roared. — AFTER HER… I'M COMING FOR THE ONE WITH THE DARK HAIR!
He seized Aisha by her hair, pressing his palm against her head. In a final act of defiance, she thrust upward, trying to impale him — but Dante caught her arm effortlessly, wrenched away her weapon, and with a pulse of crimson-black Ether, seared her eyes in flames of living agony.
Her scream tore through the heavens.
The pain was absolute.
Dante smiled.
— What a beautiful sound of despair…
He began striking her again and again, each punch driving her face deeper into the blood-soaked earth.
From the distance, Akira howled in fury. His eyes widened — and then, he invoked it.
The cursed technique of his clan.
A power that transcended generations — passed down not by choice, but by curse.
Shadows burst from his body, consuming everything in sight. The battlefield vanished beneath darkness absolute. The world itself seemed devoured. And within that void… Akira was sovereign.
Once, he had used it against Isha — at half its strength, to spare the children nearby.
But now… there was nothing to restrain him.
Dante halted. For the first time, his eyes gleamed with fascination.
— This… is magnificent.
He was paralyzed. His power smothered, his body bound by the black void itself. For the first time since his return — he was trapped.
But Akira's body couldn't endure it. His hands trembled, his runes burned like molten iron against his flesh. The poison, the exhaustion, the pain — all came crashing back.
He fell to his knees, fists slamming against the ground.
— Not now… please, not now…
The domain collapsed.
Dante exhaled deeply, almost in pleasure.
— Such waste… an immense talent, squandered by a fool who doesn't understand the power he wields.
He turned his back to Akira.
— I won't kill you… not yet. You'll witness plenty before the end, boy.
He walked toward Aisha — broken, her face soaked in blood, her eyes hollow. He raised his arm.
But then—
A violent surge of energy tore through the air.
The ground quaked.
The heavens roared.
Tenklyn.
His body burned with Ether — pure, unchained fury. The loss, the pain, the fear — none of it mattered. His scream split the sky.
— DAAAAAAAAANTEEEEEEEE!!
He shot forward like a comet of destruction, the earth cracking beneath him, the air itself torn apart. Dante turned, eyes blazing like coals.
— Come.
He spread his arms wide — welcoming the collision like a king embracing his fate.
And then, they clashed — with an apocalyptic roar that shattered the first wall of the Sacred Tree, hurling both of them beyond its limits...
Straight into the park.
Where destruction had only just begun.
To be continued…