[!]: Please consider reviewing this Fanfic, Thanks and appreciate all who support me
[!]: Enjoy!!
=========================================
The eternal purple sky of the Underworld filtered through the bathroom windows, casting everything in a faint lavender haze. Water cascaded over Dante's shoulders, steam billowing around him as he examined the body he now inhabited.
Lean muscle wrapped tight over a frame built for both combat and turning heads. No fat, just hard definition where it counted. He ran a hand over the ridged abs, counting them. Eight. Not a six-pack but an eight-pack. Devils didn't fuck around with their genetics.
"Goddamn," he muttered, flexing an arm experimentally. The bicep jumped to attention, a perfect peak. "Is this standard issue for all devils or just the premium models?"
Dante's memories suggested this physique came from a combination of bloodline, training, and something called "natural demonic enhancement"—basically magic steroids without the shrunken balls side effect. He could get used to this.
He shut off the water and stepped out, grabbing a plush black towel from the heated rack. The bathroom itself was bigger than his entire apartment in his past life—all black marble with purple veins running through it, gold fixtures, and a shower large enough for an orgy. Which, according to Dante's memories, had never happened. Somehow, he was still a virgin.
He wrapped the towel around his waist and pushed open the door, releasing a cloud of steam into the bedroom. Ariel stood by the bed, hands clasped in front of her, eyes downcast in practiced modesty. She wore her standard maid uniform, though he noticed subtle differences from yesterday—slightly higher quality fabric, more precise tailoring. She'd dressed up.
"Good morning, Young Master." Her voice remained professional, but her eyes flicked up to his chest for a fraction of a second before returning to the floor. "I've laid out your clothes for breakfast with Lord and Lady Valac."
He glanced at the bed where an elaborate outfit waited—crisp black shirt, tailored pants, a waistcoat with subtle purple embroidery, and various accessories he couldn't immediately identify.
"All that just for breakfast?"
"Lord Alexius expects proper attire at all meals." She moved to the dresser and retrieved a pair of black silk boxers. "If I may assist you?"
He took the underwear from her, noting how her fingers avoided direct contact with his. "I think I can manage this part myself."
Her lips twitched. "Of course."
He dropped the towel without warning. Ariel's composure slipped for just a moment—a sharp intake of breath, a widening of those crimson eyes—before she turned her back to give him privacy. Interesting reaction for someone who'd presumably seen Dante naked countless times before.
"You can look now," he said after pulling on the boxers. "Though I'm curious why the modesty. Haven't you been dressing me since I was ten?"
"Things change." She turned back, her professional mask firmly in place again. "Arms up, please."
He complied, allowing her to slip the shirt onto him.
"Sleep well?" he asked as she worked on the buttons.
"Well enough." Her fingers moved up his chest, securing each button. "You?"
"Surprisingly yes. Must have needed it after three days of void-napping."
A ghost of a smile crossed her lips. "Lady Selene will be pleased to hear that. She was concerned the experience might have lasting effects."
"Oh, it definitely had effects." He caught her wrist as she reached for the waistcoat. "Just not the kind she's worried about."
Her pulse jumped under his fingers. "Dante..."
"Sorry." He released her. "Force of habit."
She handed him the pants next, watching as he stepped into them. "What habits might those be?"
"The habit of overthinking everything." He zipped up and held out his arms for the waistcoat. "Three days staring into nothing gives you new perspectives."
"So you've said." She slid the waistcoat on, her hands smoothing over his shoulders. "Though I wonder what perspectives those might be."
He turned to face her, catching her off guard. They stood close enough that he could feel her breath on his chin.
"The perspective that life's too short to waste playing other people's games." He took the tie from her hands and looped it around his own neck. "Even for immortals."
Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Lord Alexius might not share that perspective."
"Then we'll have something to discuss at breakfast." He finished the tie with a perfect Windsor knot—a skill from his old life that Dante had never bothered to master. Another slip he'd need to be more careful about.
Ariel noticed, her gaze lingering on the knot. "You've been practicing."
"Like I said, new perspectives." He stepped back, gesturing toward the door. "Shall we face the parents?"
She nodded, leading the way out of his chambers and into the hallway beyond.
The Valac estate sprawled like a fever dream of gothic architecture and magical ostentation. Vaulted ceilings stretched overhead, carved with intricate scenes of ancient devils in battle. The walls alternated between polished black stone and dark wood panels inlaid with silver and amethyst in patterns that seemed to shift when viewed from different angles.
Paintings of stern-faced ancestors lined the hallway, their purple eyes following their progress. Magic hummed in the walls—protection spells, detection wards, and things Dante couldn't identify yet. Evidence of centuries of paranoia and power.
"Holy shit," he muttered under his breath. "And this is considered declining nobility?"
Ariel glanced back. "The estate has been in the family for twelve generations. Most of the more valuable artifacts and properties were sold during the last century to maintain appearances."
"Sold?" He raised an eyebrow. "Or hidden?"
She didn't answer, but her silence told him everything. The Valacs hadn't lost as much as they'd pretended. Strategic deception—making rivals underestimate your resources while maintaining the lifestyle behind closed doors.
They descended a grand staircase that split halfway down into two curved sections. The main hall below featured a massive chandelier crafted from what looked like crystallized shadow, perpetually swirling within its frame. Servants moved efficiently through the space, none making eye contact as they passed.
"If this is what the lower-ranked Pillars live like," he said quietly, "what the hell do the top families have?"
"Their own dimensions," Ariel replied matter-of-factly. "Lord Bael's estate exists partially outside conventional space. The Gremory compound is rumored to be larger than some human cities."
Devils and their dick-measuring contests. Some things were universal.
They arrived at an ornate double door guarded by two men in formal black uniforms with the Valac crest. They bowed deeply as Dante and Ariel approached, opening the doors without a word.
The dining room stretched before them, dominated by a table that could have seated fifty. At the far end, his parents sat side by side, tiny figures in the vast space. Dante's designated chair waited at the opposite end, with Ariel's station indicated by a small standing desk behind it.
Theatrical bullshit. Pure power play.
He walked the length of the table, noting the elaborate place settings and the servants placing covered dishes at strategic intervals. The smell of food made his stomach growl—something rich and meaty that reminded him of how little he'd eaten yesterday.
"Good morning, Father, Mother." He bowed slightly before taking his seat. Ariel stepped back to her position, hands clasped before her.
"Dante." Alexius's voice carried easily despite the distance, deep and commanding. "You look recovered."
"Feeling much better, thank you." Dante had to raise his voice to be heard properly.
"Your color has improved," Selene added, her silver hair catching purple highlights from the enchanted candles floating above the table. "The void experience can be taxing."
"It was educational." He picked up his fork, examining the ornate family crest engraved on the handle.