The clash of steel echoed across the ruined expanse of the Demon Continent.
Once, this land had been filled with people. Families had lived here for generations, with mothers raising their children, merchants traveling between cities, old men sitting outside their homes, and young demons growing up without ever imagining that their homeland could disappear.
Now, most of it was gone.
The remains of cities burned in the distance while broken towers and shattered roads disappeared beneath layers of ash. The battlefield stretched across what had once been a thriving region, and the armies gathered here had already turned most of it into a graveyard.
Dante's cracked blade met Aesha again.
The impact nearly tore the weapon from his hands. His arms shook as the two blades locked for an instant before he was forced backward, boots scraping against empty air.
'This is the Hero…'
He clicked his tongue and retreated before Wolfsheim could follow up. The Hero's strength was absurd. Dante had fought powerful opponents before, but every exchange with this man reminded him that there was a huge gap between them.
As Dante drifted backward, several crimson vasana art arrays formed in front of his palm. Kleshmara, the energy used by all demon kind---surged through his body and poured into the spell, staining the surrounding air with heat.
"[Agni-Vyoma]!
Black and crimson flames burning at over a hundred million degrees erupted from the arrays.
The torrent swept across the battlefield, swallowing everything in its path. Stone melted almost instantly, steel twisted and disappeared beneath the heat, and the ground beneath the flames liquefied into glowing magma as the attack rushed toward Wolfsheim.
The Hero didn't move.
Just before the flames reached him, they suddenly split apart.
A golden barrier had appeared in front of Wolfsheim, its surface shimmering beneath the pressure of the attack. The flames divided around it and continued into the distance, where they exploded against the ruined landscape.
Dante's eyes narrowed. 'That wasnt Wolfsheim...could it be?'
His thoughts were cut off by the hero's next words.
"Thank you, Lady Gabrielle."
Wolfsheim lowered Aesha slightly.
Standing behind him, Gabrielle, the saintess of the holy empire folded her hands in prayer. Her expression remained gentle, almost serene, despite the battlefield surrounding her. Her golden eyes gleaming as bright as the stars themselves.
Dante cursed internally.
The Hero was already more than enough to deal with. Adding Gabrielle to the fight made things considerably worse.
Then the ground beneath him lit up.
Dante's instincts screamed.
"[Akasha Vartana]!"
He used a Vasana art capable of folding space and shifting him long distances.
He vanished a moment before a pillar of holy light erupted from the ground. The attack consumed the place where he had been standing, and even after escaping a hundred meters into the air, Dante felt the residual pressure scorch his flank.
He gritted his teeth and immediately pushed forward.
He couldn't afford to give them time to coordinate.
Two different enhancements activated through his body.
"[Rakta Parivarta]! [Nila Parivarta!]"
A crimson aura spread across his limbs while deep blue light moved through his circulation. His perception accelerated until the battlefield around him seemed to slow. [Rakta Parivarta] had increased his physical speed many times over, whilst [Nila Parivarta] did the same for his perception of time.
Dante dropped his left hand toward the ground and tore open a massive spatial rift.
"[Naraka-Vidara]!"
Violent fissures opened beneath Wolfsheim and Gabrielle. The space beneath their feet split apart, revealing a dark void that pulled at everything nearby.
At the same time, Dante raised his other hand toward the sky.
"[Vajra Megha]!"
Dark clouds spanning thousands of miles gathered almost instantly.
Violet lightning tore through the storm and hammered the spatial fissures, each strike forcing the distortions to collapse inward while simultaneously cutting off the routes the two opponents could use to escape.
For a moment, the battlefield disappeared beneath the storm.
Then a flash of gold tore through it.
Wolfsheim burst out of the distortion with Aesha in hand. The Hero's sword glowed with holy power as he cut through the remaining spatial distortion and launched himself toward Dante.
He crossed the distance in an instant.
Dante raised his hand.
"[Agni-Prakara]!"
A colossal wall of demonic fire erupted between them, every bit as hot as his earlier flame art.
Wolfsheim didn't slow down. Aesha came down in a single vertical strike, cutting through the flames and splitting the wall from top to bottom.
Dante was already moving by the time that happened though.
He shifted through space and reappeared directly behind the Hero.
"[Vajra Shula]!"
Electricity condensed around Dante's hand, compressed until it became a blinding spear of energy capable of piercing through a great Imoogi's scales. He thrust it forward at Wolfsheim's back, the concentrated bolt tearing through the air with enough force to shatter the clouds behind it.
Wolfsheim turned at the last instant.
Aesha struck the side of the lightning spear. The attack was deflected, exploding above them with a thunderous blast that ripped through the clouds for miles. Dante barely had time to react before Gabrielle's voice reached him from below.
She was chanting, using Thaumaturgy, also known as holy power or the power of miracles, something inherently poisonous to demons.
Light gathered around her, and holy chains shot into the sky.
They wrapped around Dante's left leg and tightened, steam rising from his leg as flesh burned.
"Shit!"
The chains pulled his leg downward and locked him in place.
Wolfsheim was already above him.
Aesha came down in a heavy cleave.
Dante forced Kleshmara through his body and seized control of the surrounding atmosphere. Pressure inverted violently around the two of them, twisting the air into a crushing vortex.
[Mahashunya]
Space itself seemed to bend toward a single point.
A dense gravitational singularity formed between Dante and Wolfsheim. The immense pull caught Aesha's trajectory and dragged the blade away from Dante, forcing Wolfsheim's strike toward the center of the distorted space.
Dante used the opening.
He ripped the holy chains apart, spread his wings, and released a violent burst of power through them.
"[Garuda Patana]!"
His wings ignited with Kleshmara, this was an art he created specifically geared for travel and escaping.
Dante shot away, leaving a chain of thousands of sonic booms behind him as he escaped the singularity, it wouldve consumed him if he hadnt escaped.
He finally stopped miles away, skidding through the air while forcing his breathing under control. His hands moved rapidly, weaving together a massive geometric array that spread across the dark sky.
Gabrielle's voice rose from below.
"Your army has already been defeated. So why continue to fight?"
Dante's hands stopped for half a second.
"The kingdoms have fallen. Ninety percent of your race is dead. So… why fight?"
He opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
Dante stared toward the ruined continent below them.
His army was gone, so were the cities and kingdoms. Most of the people he had sworn to protect were dead. Was it revenge? Hatred? Duty? He didn't know anymore.
Even if he somehow killed Wolfsheim, what would remain afterward?
Dante lowered his gaze.
Then the magic circles above him began to glow.
He didn't care about any of that right now!
Hundreds of arrays spread across the darkened sky, filling the battlefield with crimson light. Black spears emerged from them and descended in a massive rain, each one carrying enough concentrated power to tear through a dozen mountains.
Golden multi-layered barriers appeared around Wolfsheim and Gabrielle, the amount of holy power in them enough to vaporize any weaker demon, it was a perfect defense against attacks thrown by demons.
Many of the spears shattered against them.
Others were cut apart by arcs of light from Aesha.
Several still made it through, the sheer volume was the best part of this art.
Explosions tore across the horizon as Dante kept casting.
More sigils formed around him as he pushed his Kleshmara harder, ignoring the growing strain throughout his body, going as far as casting another art!
"[Mrityu-Pasha]!"
The earth split apart.
Massive black chains erupted from the cracks and surged toward Wolfsheim and Gabrielle from every direction.
Wolfsheim stepped forward.
Aesha moved once.
The nearest chains shattered.
He turned his wrist and struck again, cutting through the rest before they could reach him.
Dante's expression tightened.
He raised his hand.
"[Gurutva-Pidana]!"
The atmosphere suddenly became heavy.
The surrounding gravity inverted, and the remains of a distant mountain began to shake. Stone cracked apart as the entire landmass tore itself free from the ground.
Then another mountain rose.
Then another.
Several enormous pieces of the ruined landscape were dragged into the sky before being crushed together by the immense gravitational force.
The fragments compressed into a gigantic sphere of stone, one large enough to shadow a country due to size!!!
Dante released it.
The mass dropped from the sky like a falling moon, accelerating as gravity pulled it downward until the outer surface ignited.
Wolfsheim disappeared.
A moment later, the enormous mass split perfectly in two.
The Hero emerged from the debris.
Dante barely raised his blade before Aesha collided with it, Dante rapidly pouring his Kleshmara into the staining blade.
The impact sent him flying.
He was hurled backward through the sky, his body spinning as the pressure shattered the clouds around him, much like his earlier moon, he caught fire from the speed. The ocean far below churned violently from the shockwave, while Dante fought to regain control.
Dante was afforded a brief few seconds of breathing room thankfully.
'He's too strong to be called a damn human! It felt like my hands were shattered just now!' He thought angrily, his aura bursting as the flames subsided.
Wolfsheim finally arrived, looking mildly impressed that Dante recovered already.
He raised Aesha and looked toward the demon.
"Are you finished?"
Dante laughed, the sound came out strained and slightly hysterical, but he still managed to give a bloody grin.
"No way in hell!"
Wolfsheim gave the slightest grin before a silver aura exploded from him, his body disappearing at speeds he hadnt shown before this!
The Hero appeared directly in front of him, Aesha already descending with a terrifying force!
"[Maya-Kshetra! Adho-Avarana!]"
Dante warped the space around himself.
The first layer distorted the attack's trajectory while the second wrapped the surrounding space in a defensive veil.
But the divine blade Aesha cut through both.
The holy blade tore through the distortions as if they were nothing. Dante's defenses collapsed one after another, followed by his reinforcement and armor.
Pain exploded across his torso.
A clean, burning line opened from his right shoulder to his left waist.
Blood sprayed through the air.
His wings caught fire.
Black feathers scattered across the battlefield as the force of the strike sent him flying across the continent like a shooting star.
He crashed into the earth.
The impact created a crater several kilometers wide.
For several moments, Dante couldn't move.
His body was badly injured, but that wasn't what frightened him.
Aesha had erased part of his Phantasmal body, the body that protected his soul underneath, which doing to someone like Dante would have already been insane, yet it went further beyond that!
At least a quarter of his soul was simply gone!
'Is this how it ends… after all this?!'
Dante clenched his teeth.
He forced his body to move.
Nothing responded properly.
So he stopped trying to move it normally.
Kleshmara flooded through his damaged body, forcing his broken limbs to obey him like a puppet.
The strain was terrible, blood spurting from cracks in his skin, he couldnt be said to be alive by this point.
He knew that continuing like this might actually kill him even if he survived the battle.
Dante pushed himself upright.
His remaining wing slowly extended behind him.
The feathers began turning a brilliant violet as purple and black lightning crawled across them, even his dripping blood being saturated in lightning.
There was one spell left.
One of his most destructive Vasana Arts. A technique designed to erase everything caught within its range.
Friend or enemy.
It didn't matter.
Though it didnt matter. Dante was probably the last demon still fighting, maybe even the last demon alive.
He looked toward the distant figures of Wolfsheim and Gabrielle. Then to the billions of gathered soldiers, some from the Murim, others from Yggdrasil, knights, sorcerers, all kinds of people were gathered.
Then he raised his hand, his black nails cracking as his aura began to expand and burst, his vocal cords nearly torn to shreds as he yelled out!
"[Ashani-Tandava]!"
The sky disappeared beneath the storm.
Black-violet lightning descended across the Demon Continent in violent streams. Each thunderbolt was large enough to swallow a city, and thousands of them struck the land in rapid succession. Mountains were reduced to dust, forests and ruined cities vanished beneath the bombardment, and entire sections of the battlefield were swallowed by the storm.
There were thousands of bolts.
No.
Dante could no longer count them.
The storm continued to spread, covering more and more of the continent as the clouds above churned with violet light. Then, as if answering a single command, every bolt in the sky suddenly shifted direction.
They converged on Wolfsheim and Gabrielle.
Wolfsheim's eyes widened for the first time during the battle. He tightened his grip around Aesha and threw up a barrier around himself and the Saintess.
"[Magen Elyon]!"
A vast golden barrier unfolded around Wolfsheim and Gabrielle, followed by dozens more layered over it in rapid succession. The first wave of black-violet lightning crashed down a heartbeat later, swallowing the barriers beneath a deafening explosion of white-violet thunder.
For several seconds, Dante could see nothing but light.
He remained slumped against the bottom of the crater, barely conscious. His body felt impossibly heavy, and the last reserves of his energy had been drained by the attack. If he was lucky, he might be able to recover enough to restart his regeneration.
'Hopefully they died in that attack...'
He stared toward the massive cloud of dust and smoke covering the battlefield. A faint smile crept across his battered face. Blood mixed with the electricity spilling from the corner of his mouth as he let out a quiet, exhausted chuckle.
Then a figure emerged from the smoke.
Wolfsheim stood at the edge of the crater.
For the first time, the Hero looked tired.
His pristine armor was gone, leaving his battered body exposed beneath the fading glow of Aesha. Blood covered his arms and torso, while a deep cut ran along his temple. Several more wounds stretched across his chest and arms, and even from this distance, Dante could see that Wolfsheim was breathing harder than before.
Even so, he was still standing.
Even so, he was still standing.
Dante stared at him in disbelief, a low growl building in his throat.
"You monstrous bastard! JUST DIE ALREADY!"
Wolfsheim looked down into the crater, his expression unreadable.
"So that's what you were hiding." His eyes remained fixed on Dante.
"I have to say... I didn't expect that at all."
Dante's fingers curled into the dirt.
Behind Wolfsheim, the rest of the surviving army began making their way toward the crater, led by the members of his main party. The moment they saw the Hero standing, the cheers began to rise.
"Wolfsheim defeated the demons!"
"Wolfsheim defeated the Demon King!"
More voices joined in.
Humans. Elves. Murim warriors, Knights, Sorcerers, Onmyoji... Representatives from kingdoms across the world. Soldiers and adventurers from races that had come to witness the fall of the Demon Continent.
They gathered around the crater, celebrating the end of the war.
Some raised their weapons into the air. Others laughed and embraced their comrades. A few carried the severed heads of fallen demons as trophies, proudly displaying them to the crowd.
Dante could only stare.
His eyes moved across the faces above him.
They were smiling.
Laughing.
Celebrating.
And beneath their feet were the people he had failed to protect.
His mother.
Valentine.
His comrades.
Everyone who had trusted him to keep them alive.
All of them were dead.
Dante's breathing became shallow. His fingers dug deeper into the dirt until his nails broke against the stone beneath it.
He had fought until his body was barely holding together. He had burned through everything he had. He had thrown every spell, every technique, every last piece of strength he could gather at Wolfsheim.
And it still wasn't enough.
The cheering grew louder.
Dante lowered his head.
'They're celebrating...'
A bitter laugh caught in his throat.
'They're celebrating their deaths.'
For a moment, he couldn't hear anything else. The voices around the crater blurred together until they became nothing more than a distant roar.
He had spent the entire war trying to save them.
Now he was lying in the dirt while the people who killed them celebrated their victory above him.
Dante's eyes slowly closed.
The war was over.
And he had lost everything.
Beatrice, the Witch of the End and archmage of Wolfsheim's party, soon appeared beside the hero. Her ornate robes were almost completely untouched despite the ash filling the air. She rested both hands on her staff and looked down into the crater.
"Oh."
A small, mocking smile appeared on her face.
"So that's the final Demon King."
She tilted her head, studying him for a moment.
"I expected more from him~ After all, he is the successor of Samael~"
Beatrice gave an exaggerated sigh.
"All that grandstanding, and you couldn't even leave a permanent scar on our dear Hero~. How disappointing."
Dante's fingers twitched.
His jaw tightened.
He slowly lifted his head, blood still running from the corner of his mouth. His eyes locked onto Beatrice, the exhaustion in them giving way to pure rage.
For a moment, he said nothing.
Then his fingers dug into the dirt again, crushing the stone beneath his palm.
Beatrice's smile widened, watching as sheer rage began to move Dante's broken body.
Dante forced himself upright, his battered body protesting with every movement. One knee slipped beneath him before he caught himself against the crater wall.
He spat a mouthful of blood onto the ground.
"Keep talking."
His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper, but the sheer malice and venom within his words quited the cheering army, even if only a bit.
"I'll shut you up next."
"At least he has spirit! It reminds me of his mother, haha!"
A second voice came from behind Wolfsheim.
A tall, broad-shouldered man stepped forward, his red hair stirring in the hot wind. Muscles bulged beneath his battle-worn armor, and his lava-like eyes remained fixed on Dante.
Dante's expression changed.
He knew that voice.
He knew those eyes.
The man's smile widened when he saw the recognition on Dante's face.
"The same look, too." He chuckled. "Your mother looked at me exactly like that."
Dante's breathing stopped.
His fingers tightened against the dirt.
The man's amusement only grew.
"It's been a long time, hasn't it?"
Dante stared up at him, his body suddenly rigid despite the pain coursing through it.
The Fist Emperor.
The man standing above him was the one who had killed his mother.
"Heh..."
A weak laugh escaped Dante's throat.
"Hehehe..."
The Fist Emperor frowned. "Eh? Did he finally go mad? How disappointing."
He turned away.
Then Dante laughed again.
"Hahah..."
The sound was quiet at first, almost breathless. His shoulders began to shake, and he lowered his head as another laugh slipped through his clenched teeth.
"Hahahaha..."
It kept going.
The Fist Emperor's smile faded.
Dante's body was barely holding together. Blood dripped from his mouth, his clothes were torn apart, and one of his wings hung uselessly behind him.
Yet he was laughing.
Not because anything was funny.
He just couldn't stop.
"Hahahahahaha..."
The sound grew louder, rougher. Dante's chest heaved with every breath, his laughter breaking into strange, uneven bursts as he tried and failed to contain it.
Wolfsheim's expression changed.
Beatrice slowly tightened her grip around her staff.
Gabrielle stared down into the crater, her eyes widening as an unfamiliar sense of dread settled over her.
Then Dante lifted his head.
His face was still twisted into a smile, but there was nothing joyful in it.
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
The laughter exploded across the battlefield.
The air seemed to tighten around them.
Soldiers stopped cheering.
One man's knees buckled.
Another dropped his weapon as his hands began to shake.
Then Dante's killing intent erupted.
It slammed into the surrounding army with such force that several soldiers collapsed immediately, blood pouring from their noses and mouths. Others stumbled backward, struggling to breathe beneath the pressure.
Even the strongest warriors instinctively recoiled.
The Fist Emperor stood completely still.
Dante looked directly at him.
His smile widened.
"I remember you."
The laughter returned, quieter this time.
"Hehehe..."
Dante slowly pushed himself upright, forcing his broken body to move.
"I've been waiting to see your face again for years."
His eyes locked onto the Fist Emperor's.
"I finally saw you."
Dante's smile disappeared.
"AND I HAVE NO INTENTIONS OF LETTING YOU LEAVE!"
Kleshmara surged through Dante's Mystic Ether Body.
His reserves, which had been nearly empty only moments ago, suddenly began to rise again. His bloodline ability had always allowed him to generate Kleshmara at an abnormal rate, but Dante had always kept that power within limits as to keep his energy from destroying his body
Now he stopped caring about that, his body was already broken, so what did it matter.
The flow accelerated.
His skin split.
Cracks raced across his arms, chest, and face as Kleshmara forced its way through his Mystic Ether Body. Pieces of flesh began breaking away, dissolving into dark particles before they even touched the ground.
The more his body broke down, the faster the Kleshmara came.
Blood vessels ruptured beneath his skin. Blood seeped from his eyes, nose, and mouth before evaporating against the heat radiating from his body. One of his arms had already begun to lose its shape, the flesh around his fingers disintegrating until the bones beneath were exposed.
Still, the energy kept building.
Dante barely resembled a person anymore, looking more like a monster born of malevolence. His body was coming apart piece by piece, but the Kleshmara pouring from him only grew denser, darker, more violent.
'More.'
His exposed fingers twitched.
'More!'
Dante's body jerked as another section of his shoulder disintegrated. His remaining wing began to crumble from the edges inward, black feathers turning to ash and scattering through the air.
He looked at the Fist Emperor through a face that was already beginning to crack apart.
And smiled.
Beatrice's expression went pale.
"SHIT! HE'S GOING TO SELF-DESTRUCT!"
She slammed her staff into the ground.
Thousands of magic circles erupted around Wolfsheim and the surrounding army, barriers forming one after another as Beatrice poured everything she had into her defensive magic.
Gabrielle immediately raised her hands. Golden light spread across the battlefield as layer after layer of holy barriers formed around the army.
Neither of them tried to run. There was no time.
The ground suddenly buckled beneath Dante.
A deep, violent tremor raced across the continent.
At the center of the crater, Dante stood barely recognizable beneath the violent mass of Kleshmara pouring from his ruined body. What remained of his flesh could hardly be seen through the energy surrounding him.
His remaining eye stayed fixed on the Fist Emperor.
"Die."
The word carried across the battlefield.
Then Dante's entire body began to come apart.
BOOM