Dante awoke, his heart pounding as if it sought to escape his chest. Above him stretched a vast, unfamiliar sky, its stars pulsing due to an otherworldly light, casting a silver glow across the desolate landscape.
The air was thick with the scent of ash and something sweeter, almost intoxicating. Before he could make sense of his surroundings, a voice, smooth as velvet, slithered into his ears. ''At last, the Fates have woven our paths together, my Death Monarch.''
His eyes snapped to the source of the sound. There, standing before him, was a woman cloaked in shadow, her form both mesmerizing and indistinct, as if the night itself refused to fully reveal herself.
The starlight clung to her silhouette, highlighting an hourglass figure that seemed to defy mortal proportions. Her dress, a cascade of midnight fabric, shimmered faintly, straining against a bosom so pronounced it seemed to challenge the very seams that held it.
Dante's breath caught, his mind a whirlwind of confusion. 'What the hell? I just died. Why am I gawking at her like some lovesick fool?'
That's when the weight of his betrayal crashed over him like a tidal wave, and he started getting angry over his and Luna's deaths. The sting of his allies' treachery, the mocking laughter as his lifeblood pooled beneath him, it all roared back.
He rose to his feet, hands shaking, not with fear, but with the rage coursing through him. ''Who are you?'' he demanded. ''And what's this Death Monarch nonsense? I'm nobody's pawn.''
Moments later, the woman's lips curved into a grin, though her face remained obscured, as if the darkness itself conspired to hide her features, but he felt something comforting coming from the stranger.
''Oh, my Dante,'' the stranger purred, which both soothed and unsettled him. ''You are far more than a pawn. The Fates have chosen you, and I am merely their herald. The empire may worship its false heroes, but you… You are destined to unmake their world.''
''Unmake their world?'' he muttered. ''I want to destroy it, brick by brick and wipe out the damn filthy humans.''
The woman giggled in amusement as she leaned forward and whispered into his ear. ''Then accept my gift.''
Dante's eyebrow arched in suspicion at the words. ''What's the catch?''
''There is none, the only thing I want from you is...'' She stepped forward and revealed a deep pair of red eyes that screamed of endless power. ''Death.''
Moments later, she drew back, her gaze blazing with an otherworldly fire. In a voice that thundered like a storm breaking the heavens, she declared. ''I am Marzanna, the Death Goddess of Velora, and I have summoned you to help me.''
Dante watched her wave a hand and create a screen made from mana, showing countless scenes of wars, famine, and corruption running rife across the world as Humans, Demi-Humans, and other races caused chaos.
When he saw this, the goddess continued. ''It festers due to overpopulation, and chaos reigns unchecked. Should you accept, you will rise as my Death Monarch, wielding the power to unleash death and shatter the order of this world and those other gods!''
''Interesting,'' he murmured.
The air around him seemed to thicken thanks to his ever-growing malice. ''Tell me, then,'' he continued, his words deliberate, slicing through the silence like a blade. ''If I were to hunt down those self-righteous heroes, every last one of them, would you care? Would you flinch at the blood I'd spill?''
Marzanna's response was a wild, unhinged peal of laughter that reverberated through the desolate void, a sound so sharp it seemed to shake the stars. Her crimson eyes blazed like twin pyres, their glow pulsing.
''Spill their blood, my chosen!'' she crowed, her voice a siren's call to chaos. ''Raze Valora to cinders! Forge a Death World from the wreckage of their dreams, a realm of ash and bone where none dare defy us. Together, we shall tear through other worlds, our power absolute!''
Her words struck Dante like a spark to dry tinder, igniting a furnace of rage and despair deep within his soul. The sting of betrayal now roared through him, an inferno that consumed every trace of the man he had been.
His face twisted, lips curling into a snarl that was equal parts anguish and malevolence as he wanted to return the favour against his so-called friends. The memories of Sunreach's treachery played in his mind.
Dante remembered the friends who killed him, the ideals he once believed in crumbled under their hypocrisy, the trust he'd poured out like a fool, only to be repaid by being burned alive. Each wound festered, poisoning his heart, until all that remained was rage.
''They thought me weak,'' he growled, his voice trembling with a fury that seemed to shake the ground beneath him. ''They cast me out, spat on my loyalty, and laughed as they did it. But I'll show them.''
His hands clenched into fists, knuckles white, as if he could already feel the weight of their lives in his grasp. "I'll burn their precious Sunreach to the ground. Their heroes will choke on their screams as I tear them apart limb from limb.''
Dante felt something taking hold of him as he continued raging, as the goddess listened. ''Every street, every home, every soul who dared to stand with them, I'll destroy it all. When I'm strong enough, they'll beg for mercy, and there will be none. They'll know the price of betrayal, I'll carve it into their bones.''
His words hung in the air, heavy with a promise of annihilation. The spark within him had grown into a wildfire, untamed and insatiable, and as he stared into Marzanna's blazing eyes, he felt the last vestiges of his old self crumble.
In their place stood a new Dante, not a hero, not a victim, but a force of ruin called the Death Monarch, forged in the crucible of betrayal and tempered by his unyielding wrath that will descend upon the world.
Soon enough, Marzanna spoke once again as she waved her hand. ''I used memories of video games to create something that only you will have. Now take a look at your new power and tell me what you think,'' she purred.
[Name: Dante Ashbourne]
[Class: Death Monarch]
[Level: 0]
[Experience: 0/10,000]
[Rank: F]
[MP: 4]
[HP: 1]
[STR: 1]
[DEX: 1]
[INT: 1]
[CHA: 1]
[DP: 0]
[Skills: SSS: Arise SS: Death Blast (0)]
'This is a system,' Dante thought in amazement. 'Just like the Hero of that Dawnfire game I never completed before coming here.'
When Marzanna saw his reaction, she spoke in a pleased tone. ''I'm glad you like it, but I took the opportunity to give you a surname from that thing you liked, it was the name of your character?''
''Yes, it was,'' he responded with a chuckle. ''What is this DP thing? Damage Percentage or something?''
The goddess let out a soft giggle before responding, "No, they're called Death Points. You can earn them in various ways, slaying powerful monsters or humanoids, completing quests, and other deeds.''
''Oh, so it's a system that will help me get stronger? And I assume I'm a Necromancer?'' he questioned.
Marzanna giggled, shaking her head. ''No. You're the Death Monarch, something completely different. You won't just control the dead like those lower beings, you'll be able to improve upon them using the Death Points.''
She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a hushed whisper. ''On Velora, you'll be unlike anything they've seen. The other races might mistake you for human at first, but up close, they'll sense you're... different. Tread carefully.''
Dante nodded in understanding as he questioned. ''So you want me to go around causing chaos while growing stronger? And you don't mind if I kill the heroes?''
The Death Goddess smiled before answering. ''Yes, and make sure you stay away from Eldoria until you reach SS Rank. The Sunreach Empire has gotten stronger over the last two hundred years.''
''Huh?'' he muttered when hearing her words. ''Two hundred years have passed? Are the heroes even alive?''
Marzanna let out a soft chuckle, her fingers dancing through the air as a shimmering mana screen materialized. It revealed Ashley thriving in a mansion, surrounded by numerous descendants.
The most striking change was the bitch, appearing no older than her late twenties thanks to being S Rank and having extended lives. Dante exhaled in relief as the goddess spoke on. ''I'll place you on the continent of Nemorath, far enough to evade the new heroes, giving you ample time to grow stronger before venturing to the central continents.''
''New ones?'' he muttered.
Marzanna nodded with an amused expression. ''Do you expect the other gods to stand by as I send a champion onto Velora?''
Dante's eyebrow rose as he responded. ''I heard there were hundreds of gods in the world. I mean, we visited many of their temples on our journey to kill the Demon King. Will they all come hunting for me? And aren't you making a mistake?''
''A beautiful mistake, yes. But oh well, what's life without some fun?'' the goddess replied cheekily. ''But if you play your cards right by the time you meet the first, you'll be strong enough to survive.''