Days passed as the emperor's spectacle arrived. Several powerful Rank SS guards alongside his teacher Freddy dragged him from his cell, his body battered and bloodied thanks to the lacerations.
The city square loomed ahead, packed thick with jeering crowds eager for the emperor's promised show. Moments later, the guards shoved him forward, expecting a broken man to crumble before the masses.
Dante stumbled into the open, and he straightened up, his shoulders squaring despite the pain that screamed through every muscle. His eyes swept over the crowd, silencing their cheers with the sheer force of his aura.
Blood dripped from his wounds, staining the cobblestones, but he was unbroken. If the empire wanted a monster, they would get one, and it would be their undoing when he returned.
The guards seized his arms, their iron grips bruising his battered frame as they dragged him toward a stake. His steps faltered as they dragged him up the stairs so the soldiers could bind his wrists and ankles.
Around him, others piled dry branches and kindling, the air growing thick due to the scent of his impending doom. He scanned the jeering crowd, locking onto his ex-girlfriend and the eight other heroes he despised.
Seeing the group angered him beyond anything in his life. They stood apart, faces smug, their presence a betrayal that stoked the inferno in his chest. Ashley's cold expression cut deeper than any blade, and the other's mocking whispers fueled his rage.
Dante didn't flinch as the guards doused him using oil, refusing to give them a reaction they wanted while the liquid glinted under the torchlight. He noticed Princess Serene standing there, smiling as she threw a torch at the pyre.
Flames roared to life, curling around his body like hungry tendrils. As the seconds dragged on, a primal fear gripped his heart, clawing at his soul. 'I can't die yet,' he thought, his mind spiraling in desperation. 'I haven't lived enough, haven't fought enough!'
He refused to give the empire the satisfaction of his despair. The flames roared to life, their searing heat blistering his skin, turning pain into outright agony. Dante stood rigid, jaw locked tight, his silence a defiant shield against the empire's cruelty.
The kindling crackled, its sharp pops swallowing the jeers of the bloodthirsty crowd, yet he remained mute amidst the inferno as he listened to the crowd. ''Die, failed Hero!'' Voices shrieked from the throng.
''Traitor to the empire! Scum!'' Another spat.
''False Hero!'' Cried a third.
''Burn in the fires of justice!''
They chanted, their words a venomous chorus. Each taunt pierced deeper than the flames, shattering something vital within him, his faith in the people he'd once sworn to protect, his hope for redemption.
'What was the point?' he thought as his mind slowed thanks to the extreme stress he was under. 'Why did I fight so hard for them?'
As Dante stood shackled in the heart of the grand plaza, his psyche spiraled into a vortex of darkness. The air grew thick with tension as Emperor Marcus appeared beside Ben, whose cold eyes gleamed due to all sorts of emotions.
The older man's voice boomed, silencing the murmuring crowd. ''People of Sunreach! Hear me! The young man you called Hero, Dante, has joined the Demon forces to shatter our empire!''
Gasps rippled through the masses, but before he could protest, Imperial Mage Thamior emerged from the shadows. He let out a guttural chant, the old man's staff pulsed, and a colossal mana screen flickered to life above the plaza.
The crowd froze, their eyes locked on Dante, but not as they knew him. His hair was stark white like the winter snow, his eyes blazed crimson, and a manic grin twisted his face as he carved through an army, a monstrous green dragon roaring at his side.
Blood sprayed like rain, bodies fell like wheat before a scythe, and the imposter on the screen reveled in the carnage. His heart plummeted, his knees buckling under the weight of the lie.
''No!'' he roared. ''You know me! I'd never do this! This is a lie! What you're doing now is what will drive me to that darkness! Stop this madness!''
But his pleas were met with chilling indifference. Michael, Ben, and Reece, the people he'd fought beside, bled beside, stood apart from the others. Their lips curled into cruel smirks, their eyes glinting.
In that shattering moment, a white blur streaked across Dante's vision, his heart seizing as the horrific truth crashed over him. ''No, Luna! Please, don't!'' he screamed, his voice raw, breaking under the weight of desperation. ''Please run! FLEE NOW!''
Luna, his faithful wolf companion, he'd saved on their very first journey on Velora; she'd been his shadow through every trial. The unbearable thought of her throwing herself into danger for him tore at his soul, a pain sharper than any blade.
But it was too late. With fierce loyalty burning in her eyes, she lunged toward Ashley, fangs gleaming. Before she could reach her mark, Michael stepped in, his strike sending Luna crashing to the ground with a sickening whimper, her body crumpling in the dirt as his anguished cry echoed into the void.
Dante watched as Luna's battered form dragged across the blood-soaked earth, her whimpers piercing the air as she clawed toward Dante, beautiful blue eyes locked on him with tireless devotion. Each faltering movement tore at his heart, her white fur matted, her strength fading.
''Luna, no… stay with me,'' he choked, tears streaming down his face, reaching out helplessly.
But before she could reach him, the Sunreach soldiers descended like vultures, their cruel blades glinting under the sunlight. Her final yelp shattered the silence as they struck, stealing her life in a brutal instant, leaving his scream to echo in the hollow void of his grief.
The sight ignited something primal deep inside his soul, a searing rage that clawed its way up his throat. Moments later, the fire surged, a beast devouring his flesh, reducing it to blackened ruin. Yet through the unbearable pain.
Dante's eyes blazed as a furious rage consumed him entirely, a silent vow that his spirit would not break, even as his body crumbled to ash. His gaze sliced through the choking smoke, pinning the heroes in place, their faces paling under the weight of his glare.
The air turned suffocating, a crushing void as his SS-rank aura exploded outwards.''ALL OF YOU WILL PAY! YES EVERYONE!'' Dante howled, his tone a raw, monstrous roar that shattered the air.
Flames devoured his flesh, but he didn't flinch; his fury burned hotter than the fire consuming him. ''I SWEAR YOU'LL PAY! BY THE DEATH GODDESS HERSELF, YOU ALL WILL PAY FOR THIS BETRAYAL!''
Each word was a jagged blade, dripping with a hatred so vicious it burned hotter than the pyre, promising an apocalypse that made the bravest tremble and the heroes cower. Ashley's mask shattered as his aura lashed out.
A suffocating wave of dread that gave off the scent of blood, despair, and pure hatred, even now, on death's door, Dante was powerful. Moments later, the flames devoured him in a roaring vortex of fire, but his voice lingered, a venomous curse branded into their minds.
The pyre roared before Ashley, its flames consuming her ex-boyfriend's bound body, his form a shadow within the inferno. She stood rigid, her eyes locked on the figure, once the love of her life, now condemned, as the fire devoured him.
Everyone around her had fallen silent, their cheers replaced by a heavy stillness, pierced only by the crackle of wood and the faint, tortured hiss of flesh. Ashley's face contorted in anguish, her hands shaking as she clutched her chest, unable to look away.
Just then, the atmosphere changed as a sudden burst of black light ripped from the sky, a lance of darkness that struck the fire. It engulfed Dante, quenching the flames in an unnatural void, the air humming.
Ashlet thought she spotted something being dragged away. Everyone gaped as the flames died, leaving the hero a smoldering ruin, skin blackened and peeling. The emperor rose, eyes glinting, and barked. ''Hurl that wretched corpse into the river! This scum deserves no mercy!''
Following that, two hundred years had passed since the nine heroes' names were etched in the annals of the empire as saviors. Once mere mortals, they were elevated to near-mythic status, worshipped in temples and adored by the crowds.
The empire's citizens sang hymns and told stories of their triumphs, oblivious to the treachery that had secured their rise or the fall of the hero that was the true strength behind the ten. But far across the world, beyond the jagged peaks of the Obsidian Mountains and the endless jungles of Nemorath, a shadow stirred.
Forces older than the stars themselves began to move, arranging their pieces on a cosmic chessboard, their motives veiled in mystery. But somewhere where only death could reach, a young man lay unconscious, ready to begin his journey far, far away.