The clash of steel echoed across the ruined expanse of the demon continent—a land once alive with families, with mothers and fathers, elders and children. A land of people, despite the lies humans and elves spread about it.
Dante's hands trembled as he forced his cracked blade upward, barely deflecting Wolfsheim's downward slash. The impact surged through his arms, rattling his bones and nearly ripping the weapon from his grip. Pain flared through every part of his body.
[So this is the "Hero".]
Clicking his tongue, Dante leapt backward and extended his arm. Demonic power surged violently from his core, forming several rotating sigils before his palm. His ringed eyes flickered, sparks of fire dancing within them.
[Shallal alnaar!]
A waterfall of fire.
That was the closest way to describe it.
A torrent of black and crimson flames surged forward, swallowing the space around it and using even that as fuel. The heat distorted the battlefield as it advanced toward Wolfsheim..
The Heroes eyes widened, but it didn't seem like alarm as his pupils brightened a royal blue. Though Dante didn't notice it.
But before Dante's Flames could reach him, They hit an unseen object.
An invisible Barrier.
The torrent split in two, veering off to either side before detonating in the distance. Mountain sized explosions erupted across the horizon, lighting the ruined land in flashes of red.
Dante narrowed his eyes
[He blocked it...? No-]
"Much appreciated, Lady Gabrielle"
The hero spoke calmly.
The saintess of the Holy Church. The woman said to be blessed by Ahura Mazda himself.
Only she, the Hero, and possibly Beatrice—the greatest mage of the Elusian Continent could defend against his destructive spells so cleanly.
Fortunately though, Beatrice was occupied elsewhere, holding back remnants of the demon army alongside the Dwarven champion and the subjugation forces.
[The Hero alone was already too much...Adding Gabrielle-]
Dante cut his thoughts short.
Even with his perception accelerated over a thousand times, he barely managed to react. His body blurred as he shot into the sky, black wings spreading wide to keep him afloat.
The ground he had just occupied had become a [Holy Zone]
It was a spell used by priest and paladins alike. Against weaker demons it could flay them alive in moments.
And this...was cast by the saintess herself.
"Shit..." Even with his reaction, he hadnt escaped unscathed.
His leg was ruined. Flesh had tore open, and bone was exposed. Half his foot had already been disintegrated. She had mastered Thaumaturgy, an energy based off faith, which was also deadly to demons, to an unnaturally high degree. It was like a Spirit had descended to strike Dante itself.
[Even with "Brilliance of Venus" Increasing my recovery, it would take hours to heal this..]
Hours he in fact did not have.
Dante exhaled slowly, steadying himself.
Then, with a roar, he retaliated.
"HAH!!!!"
Demonic power surged, far more violently this time. Radiance of the morningstar, which provided him with a near limitless supply of demonic power, poured into the spell. Whilst brilliance of Venus, which enhanced the quality and output of everything he could imagine, amplified it even further.
[ASTRAPHAE ULTIMA]
Black and violet lightning erupted from his wings, tearing across the sky before crashing down upon the battlefield. Each bolt carved large canyons through the land, erasing thousands of soldiers instantly before converging upon the Hero and Saintess.
The sheer force of it distorted both physical and spiritual matter.
This was one of Dantes Original spells. The one that earned him the title of...
[Ort Demon King]
This was capable of annhilating an entire country.
Normally, he would use this sparingly. Even he could barely control its destructive output.
But now, there was no reason to hold back this spell, most of his allies were dead anyways.
So Dante cast aside what little restraint he had left.
And released everything.
The hero quickly raised his blade, the legendary holy sword Aesha, capable of slaying even demon kings like Dantes Father, began glowing a bright Gold, Gabrielle praying as the Gold became even thicker, Wolfsheim Thrusting the blade foward, his expression still calm, as if he wasnt in danger.
Spoiler...He wasnt.
The light from the blade destroyed the spell of dante, erasing it from existence as the swords light continued onwards to dante.
Dante instinctively raised every barrier he could think of. A thousand layers, overlapping, reinforced by Brilliance of Venus, Radiance of the Morningstar, and every shred of demonic power he had left.
The sword's radiance shattered them in an instant. His body was rent asunder, a clean, brutal line from right shoulder to the left side of his waist. Entrails spilled, the force of the strike launching him across the battlefield.
His once beautiful black wings became bloodied, feathers flying through the air as most of his wings were burned beyond repair.
He crashed like lightning.
He couldnt move, his physical body had taken damage beyond repair yes, but even that wouldnt stop someone like Dante...so it was safe to assume the Blade Aesha had severely damaged his soul, and possibly ego.
"So thats what you were hiding all this time. I got to say...im disappointed."
Wolfsheims voice cut through the haze, his voice calm as he stepped towards Dantes fallen form. Yet his eyes betrayed his voice, having a hint of...sadness?
"HE DID IT!" The rest of the subjugation army arrived in a rush, their shouts ringing across the battlefield(which was mostly destroyed by now). They celebrated, as Dante's Defeat meant the war itself had come to a conclusion.
Beatrice appeared shortly after, teleporting next to Wolfsheim, her purple robes, lined with silver having not a trace of blood or dirt on them, the same for her perfectly styled pixie like hair.
The Dwarven champion, Gold, had appeared shortly after. It was clear he was injured more than the rest of the Hero's party. Even so, at nearly 7 feet tall, he towered over most around him. With a grandfather who was a giant, it seemed likely he would grow even taller.
"Wolfsheim defeated the demons!"
"Wolfsheim defeated the demons!!"
The army erupted in cheers. Elves from Yggdrasil, murim warriors from the Gangho, and even the demi-human races, those who had long struggled against humans, had raised their voices in triumph. Some even lifted the heads of dantes fallen comrades as trophies.
The pain burned through him, each nerve screaming, yet it did nothing to drown out the cheers. The shouts of victory, the waving banners, the raised heads of his fallen comrades—it all pressed in on him like a cruel, unbearable weight.
He tried to speak. To let his final words mean something, not just the name of a spell.
But his throat refused, his body betrayed him. It was impossible.
Beatrice noticed. She leaned down, the faintest tilt of her head betraying her amusement. A saintess to the world, perhaps, but to demons… she was pure evil. She had killed more than the rest of the hero's party combined, yet somehow, she still wore the mask of benevolence.
"Looks like that little display earlier was just some… pretty fireworks~" Her smile widened, cruel and predatory. "I'm sure Mommy will be disappointed~"
Dante's ringed eyes, black and red, flared with a heat that made the air around him tremble.
"Oh, right!" Beatrice gasped suddenly, leaning closer. "Her eyes… are in my lab. How silly of me to forget~"
Something snapped in Dante. The insult, the mockery, the absolute dismissal of all he had been, all he had survived. His soul, already pierced and battered by the Blade Aesha, screamed for release. Every ounce of energy, every shred of malice, every particle of power he still possessed surged outward like a tidal wave.
The demons hadn't provoked the humans. They had been living, surviving, tending to their own lives, their own world! Yet the moment the Holy Empire announced their so-called "prophecy" about the demons, half the world mobilized against the Demon Continent.
They did nothing to earn a 10 year war.
They did nothing to earn a war that decimated the major kingdoms.
Dante... Dante did nothing to deserve this.
He did nothing to deserve watching his mothers stomach split open at a single strike of a fist.
He did nothing to deserve seeing them tear her apart, ripping her heart and eyes from her body in an act of unthinkable cruelty.
One sentence ran through his mind as he stared at Beatrice...
[I wont let them get a happy ending.]
Cracks began to spiderweb across his body, faint light leaking from within. Demonic energy churned at his core, expanding and compressing, as he pushed his soul to its absolute limit.
Beatrice's eyes widened—only she, and perhaps the Hero himself, could have foreseen what was about to unfold.
A mana barrier sprang up around her and the others.
"EVERYONE, GET BACK—!"
Too late.
Energy condensed violently into a singularity born from Dante's core. It was pure, absolute destruction, crystallized into the world itself. This suicide bomb produced enough power per second to destroy multiple countries, possibly the demon continent and beyond.
He heard screams as various troops were erased entirely, soul and all, the startled screams of the heroes party. All of it was like music to his ears...
But as the blinding light dispersed, the Hero's party remained intact. Half of the five million Subjugation Army had been reduced, but the core threat had been stopped.
The Hero had blocked it. His hands blackened and scarred from the force, yet visibly repairing, a golden aura radiating around him.
Dante stared.
[…You've got to be kidding me.]
It felt like looking up at something that didn't belong in the same existence as him. His lips twitched faintly, somewhere between purge and denial.
Wolfsheim lowered his hand slightly, the golden aura dimming just a fraction. Even now, his expression was unchanged.
[I never stood a chance...did I.]
And with that, dantes vision blackened.
◇◇◇◇
◇◇◇◇
"YOUNG MASTER!"
Dante's eyes snapped open as he gasped for air. The battlefield was gone. In its place was a familiar ceiling—his room.
'…What?'
'I didnt die?'
"Young master?"
A maid leaned over him, concern written across her face.
Dante ignored her, throwing the covers aside and moving straight to the mirror. His vision cleared gradually.
What he saw...was him!
But younger?
Dark purple hair fell past his shoulders, almost midnight in color. His face looked younger—softer, yet still sharp enough for a royal. His pupils were black, irises ringed with red, thick lashes framing them. Faint vertical marks under both lower eyelids gave his eyes a predatory, unsettling quality. His skin was tan, smooth, the youthful sheen of young age.
He brought a hand to his chest. That wound should have been there—Asha, the blessed blade of Ahura Mazda, had nearly cleaved him in two. The divine energy within it could have killed almost any demon instantly. Even shallow contact with it would have destroyed him.
Yet nothing. Not a single blemish, even other scars he accumulated were gone.
'Is this an illusion?'
He wouldnt put it past them to do something this cruel.
"Young master?" The maid stepped closer, pouting slightly.
Dante blinked, then focused. This wasn't just some maid. She had been his personal guard, a noble of the Zepar family—a demon whose loyalty and life had been bound to his own. And… she had died alongside his mother during the Fist King's attack. She had shielded him, taking the full force of the strike meant for him. The holy soldiers' blades had pierced her chest, ending her life in an instant.
She was small, barely reaching his collarbone. Short silver hair tipped faintly with red, cut to her neck. Her violet eyes glowed faintly, sharp and predatory, framed by thick eyelashes. Two pointed ears peeked through her hair, a reminder of her half-dark elf lineage. Her pale porcelain skin contrasted sharply with the black maid uniform she wore.
Dante stepped forward and pulled her into a tight embrace. She froze, utterly confused.
'Even if this is an illusion… I don't care. Just let me hold her again…'
"Y-Young master? Is something the matter?" Her voice was suddenly small, tentative.
"…It's nothing." He pressed his face into her hair, letting the embrace linger. Only after several seconds did he release her.
"I'm fine."
This… it's impossible.
He felt it—the warmth of her body, the steady beat of her heart, even the the rise and fall of her breath, not to mention her energy flow. She was real. For now… she was real.
There were no illusory spells with this level of detail.
'Does this mean I've… traveled through time?'
It wasn't hard to imagine. There were spells and abilities that could manipulate space and time, but none to this degree.
'Was it the combination of my suicide and the residual energy from the Hero…?'
Dante's heart tightened. For the first time in years, he allowed himself a quiet, private hope. A chance to see her again. A chance to… maybe fix what had been lost.
"Valentine," he said, voice low. "Is my mother here?"
She blinked, expression tightening slightly with worry.
"Lady Hildegard returned from Gula this morning, Young Master. And… Young Master Nero just arrived from the Phenex Territory."
Dante's chest constricted. Hildegard. His mother. And Nero—his half-brother.
They were both alive...bust his mother was more important, Nero didnt matter as much. He and Dante had always had a sour relationship.
But none of that mattered. Not really. His mother alive. That was enough.
"Good." He turned toward the closet, ready to get dressed.
"Hey! Don't you need help getting dressed?" Valentine called, holding out prepared clothes.
"I can manage." He stepped inside, shutting the door.
Silence settled.
Dante closed his eyes. Memories of the war—the blood of his family, the screams, the bodies—surged through him. He could still see his mother's face, hear her voice, feel the terror and helplessness of that day. Every ounce of pain, every loss, burned deep in his chest.
But she was alive now. Here.
He drew a steadying breath, focusing inward, feeling the rotation and compression of his demonic energy. He was thankful that he still had his core skills, Radiance Of Venus and Brilliance Of The Morning Star. The former enhanced the quality of everything, from talent to attacks and actions, whilst the latter was essentually a demonic power breeder reactor.
◇◇◇◇
A few minutes later, Dante stepped out fully dressed. Black long-sleeve shirt, purple coat lined with silver fur, simple black pants with a white belt and golden buckle. Valentine adjusted his collar, the faint scent of her hair brushing against him.
Valentine stepped forward, adjusting his collar. The scent of her hair drifted toward him, briefly distracting him, Dante's thoughts veering dangerously toward memories and regrets.
"You're looking quite… stylish, my lord." There was hesitation in her voice. Seems she would never approve his his dinning attire.
Dante exhaled lightly, steadying himself.
"Valentine," he said, "is my father attending?"
She hesitated slightly. "No… I believe he's still training. I can send a message if you'd like—"
"No. It's fine."
That lined up with his memory. His father wouldn't return for a while.
Dante knew his father, Lucifel Morningstar, had been training in the black sea.
It would be around two years before he returned.
'Hm...' for a few seconds, Dante's thoughts drifted towards Nero, his younger brother by mere months. The relationship between the two brothers was anything but friendly. With Neros mother's constant comparisons creating an inferiority complex.
And Dante's attitude, dismissing Nero constantly didnt help at all.
Dante knew Nero wasn't a bad person. So maybe their relationship would change this time around...
◇◇◇Two Hours Later◇◇◇
Dante stared across the table.
Nero glared back at him like a rabid animal, his grip tightening around a black steel fork until it bent and crumbled.
…
'Yeah.'
'That doesnt seem likely.'
----------A/N-----------
Heya, if you've read the previous version of this chapter. I apologize. But I wasnt satisfied with it, so I rewrote it to be better.