Mission 3: Hell on Earth

[DarkSlayer]

It’d been exactly one month since Lady had delivered the bad news to Devil May Cry about Mundus’s seal being lifted. Things had been somewhat peaceful since that fateful day, other than a slight increase in demonic activity. Dante had expected as much though, with the emperor of hell now at full strength. He would undoubtedly try to open the gates of hell once more to not only rule the world but to exact his revenge on the innocent for what Sparda did to him so many years ago.

Dante sat at his desk with his feet propped up as usual, only this time he was on the phone. ”Yes ma’am…I see…do you have the payment?” he asked politely with a smirk. The woman’s shrill cries over the phone could be heard across Dante’s shop. Across the room, Trish cracked the cue ball hard, sending it crashing into the tightly racked pool balls for a nice break. The balls bounced along the table, several of them falling perfectly into the pockets around the edges. She listened to Dante’s conversation with a grin as he sealed the deal. Business had been booming since the bad news, and that didn’t bother them a bit. They had dealt with Mundus before, and they were confident that he could be handled. In the meantime they were going to milk the situation for all it was worth.

”…We’ll be there soon.” Dante finished, hanging up the phone and sighing. Rising from his desk he pulled his red leather jacket from the back of the chair and grabbed his trusted blade, Rebellion from its rack on the wall. Trish glanced over and leaned on her pool cue, eyeing him.

”You know Dante, as much as I love the fact that business is booming, I still can’t help but feel like we should inform Nero of what’s happened.” Trish sighed, returning her gaze to the pool table before her.

”Aw, c’mon babe. We can handle this. We took him down once before, we can do it ag—“ Dante started to respond in a playful tone, casually walking towards his love with his usual smug, carefree expression. He was interrupted by a rather large quake that shook the entire city. Both Dante and Trish had to grab the pool table to catch themselves.

”What the hell was that?!” Dante half mumbled, jogging over to the two large doors at the entrance to Devil May Cry. He charged through both of them, only to be greeted by the sight of chaos and destruction. The city had been torn asunder by a large cylindrical tower that had seemingly burst forth from the earth itself. Dante knew all too well what this tower was as memories of several years past came rushing back to him.

”No doubt you’ve got some fun planned for me, RIGHT VERGIL?” he remembered himself calling up to his lost brother when the tower had first appeared shortly after he had purchased his shop. He was young and brash back then and still managed to topple the tower with only minor help. The only difference this time was that Mundus was behind the scenes, not Vergil. When Vergil had awakened the Temen-ni-gru, he sought to open the gates of hell to claim their father’s sword, not to wreak havoc upon the Earth.

The sky itself tore open as the tower loomed over the city. The seven bells of hell rang out clearly as the gates of hell itself appeared in the sky above the Temen-ni-gru. All around the streets emerged demons from shadows, rifts and even the ground itself. The clacking of Trish’s boots could be heard as she stepped out behind Dante.

”Nero just called. Apparently the demonic activity in Fortuna City has increased dramatically just recently.” Trish said in a matter-of-fact tone. Dante glanced back at her as she emerged from the shop, only to be met with a look of “I told you so”. ”Want me to invite him over?” she snickered.

”Yeah…” Dante sighed, turning away from her and staring up at the tower that seemed to have returned from the grave just to haunt him. ”Give Lady a call, too. If Mundus is gonna go all out, we’re gonna need all the help we can get.” Dante said in a slightly annoyed tone. He turned to his left and drew Rebellion from his back and charged with blinding speed, impaling a Hell Pride in the chest, reducing it to dust with hardly any effort. He replaced the large sword on his back and glanced over his shoulder at Trish with a sudden smirk, ”Besides, the more the merrier, right?”

((Finally! The start of the third arc is here! For those of you who are not caught up with the story, an entire month has passed since Mundus’s goons broke the seal on Mallet Island. I specifically left that time period open for reference in this arc for character growth, I.E. having time to heal, train, or just getting to know one another better. Feel free to implement your own little happenings between the characters for growth and development.

@Ken – I know you wanted to do your scene with Ken on the tower, so feel free to do so. I just wanted to give a reason to gather everyone at Devil May Cry.))

[Kendaric]

"Hmmm. I didn't expect to be this early." A velvet voice mused.

"I told you to slow down back in the outlands..." A musical voice chimed.

"Hai Hai..." A black hand waved nonchalantly. "But oh well... we shouldn't be that early I mean really its not like I teleported us here, we actually walked for once." the mans voice changed to sudden annoyance.

"Well thats true..." the woman said defeated.

"Hmmm... I wonder where that damn tower is. Maybe we went to the wrong place.... gah I knew I shouldn't have listened to that old hag." the velvet voice rose a pitch as he mimicked another person "'Don't do anything till after the tower appears....' stupid woman. 'You'll need them to get what I need.' Psh like she needs anything from them except a good show. I should have just summoned the tower myself.... would have been easier..." the man stopped complaining suddenly.

"There are you done? Its here.... " the women sighed heavily.

"Oh dont give me that... you act like you actually believe a word of what I said." The mans voice returned to a velvet smooth tone as the ground started to shatter around them. "Would you mind waiting at the door for me? I wont to see the view." he asked as the tower shot out of the ground.

"Oh not at all... not like you are giving much of a chance to answer she shot back as he lifted with the tower." her musical voice taking an angry tone.

"Heh like I could control you love... please be reasonable." he said softly as the tower took him higher. "Finally the real fun can begin..." the velvet tone was gone and a hint of pure lust tainted his voice.

"Kendaric..." Her voice was soft as she saw his eyes flare.

As the tower rose to its full height a door stood before her. The door was not directly connected to the tower but instead too what should could only imagine to be more of a lobby. The roof to this rather large sub-building had a huge hole in it as if someone or something had blasted straight through it. She smirked and began to float up to the roof.

"Vadaria... you may not enter..." his voice shimmered in her mind.

"I wont... I simply want to see. It is said that Cerberus was trapped here." she answered.

As she landed near the hole and gazed inside she could see only darkness around the cone of light that shined inside. But from what she could see there were bones of all sizes littering the floor. And she could not explain it but there seemed to be something huge inside... thought she saw nothing she could feel the heavy breathing as the air rushed in and out of the hole... ever so lightly. The air inside the room was cold even to her standing outside in the heat. As she turned to walk back to the edge of the roof something seemed to catch her eye. But when she turned back to look there was nothing. "Hmmm... this place is strange indeed..." she murmured to herself and walked to the edge of the roof and sat, her feet hanging over the side.



Kendaric stood atop the tower over looking the ruined city and smiled. "So this is what you saw standing here all those years ago. I can see why you did what you did Vergil. That power plus a view like this... it truly is a tempting thing." He chuckled. The top of the tower was rather ornate considering its normal home, but the decor was still fitting nonetheless, the gothic feel of a heaven and hell mixture suited its origin well. Plus this wide open spaced made for a rather nice arena, at least to him. But still with all its so called splendor this tower could not be home to anything sane. "The Temen-ni-gru.... truly you are a place like no other." His voice was humbled as he looked around him.

Faint laughter caught his attention, and as he turned around he understood why it sounded so familiar. "Oh? You want to play with me do you? And what is it that a Grim reaper look alike thinks it can do to me?" His voice still held its lust and his eyes showed that he meant no games. His crimson eyes stared into the darkness that the Hell Vanguard had swirling around it. The Vanguard only laughed as the sounds of bells sounded. "Fine I will play with you... it'll be a good waste of time, while I wait for the others to show up." A crooked and sinister smile came across his face as he cracked his neck and crouched low. "Shall we begin?" he asked as the Vanguard disappeared.

((Figured I would give myself something to do while you all fight your way to the tower...))

[Ymir'sEmbrace]

The heavy footsteps resounded along the long marble hall-way as the two men fought relentlessly. A strong kick was met by the steady hands of the priest as Judas already twisted his body for a second kick from his free leg. Armando kicked his knee up, matching the trajectory of the second attack and sending it harmlessly to the side. It was in this instant that Judas unleashed a strong right punch that caught Armando off guard and sent him toppling backwards, Judas’s left foot still in his hands. As the two fell Armando used the added momentum to whip Judas up and into the distance. Judas landed softly on his feet as he ran straight for Armando. This is where it would really begin.

Judas kicked the shadows along the side of the wall and out the other side his leg whipped around aimed directly at Armando’s head, the priest already contemplated this, falling to his side into his shadow as he appeared above Judas, rapier pointed down at the man. Judas had little time to react, his leg still caught between dimensions. His arms raised up as two thin ropes of darkness materialized along his forearms. The ropes gained definition in an instant and immediately formed a small shield of darkness which caught the rapier in its embrace. Judas grinned slyly as he looked up to see the helpless priest only to take a swift fist in the side of his ribs. Without a word Judas nodded slightly and broke his arms apart sending the rapier flying into the ceiling. The thin strands of darkness had now consumed his arms, almost dripping down to the ground. Judas flung his arms about wildly sending the shadows in all directions. Armando caught one with a triumphant grin before realizing this is what Judas wanted. From each of the splotches of shadow, tiny blades formed that turned them into spiky balls. Armando yelped in pain as he dropped the ball and readied himself for the next attack. Judas concentrated the oozing shadows into a strict shape that writhed about in his hands.

The normal shadow whip which had been a mainstay of his arsenal was different now, more refined. He spun his hand in slow arcs, using only the wrist. With dedicated flicks he struck out with pin-point accuracy, the spot where he hit Armando welted up. With a boyish smirk Armando dodged past the next strike, the curved scimitar in his left hand. As his body caught up with Judas’s he twirled up, defying all gravity as the blade howled with the force of speed used. Judas caught the blade in his side as it cut up, tearing through his training fatigues. With no small ounce of rage he jumped back unleashing the fruits of the grueling month of training.

The dull grey fatigues snapped close to him as they glowed with a black shimmer; what looked like a delicate white shell covered his entire body; his head was now more of an oval with a deep black circle for a face. Despite the appearance he still seemed elegant and graceful. His limbs were a bit more slender now, able to move almost faster than he could think. His feet retracted backwards now allowing him to glide along the surface with ease. The black rope now took a very corporeal form. A slender black whip now hung at his side complete with a wrist guard. This would have been the end of the fight if not for Armando’s own change.

An aura of darkness shot through the room, almost engulfing Judas within it. What emerged from the blast of energy was different than before. Gone was the nebulous darkness that seemed to consume the souls of those that peered into it, in its place was a thick black cloak that covered almost his entire body; a rough black fur, skinned from the hide of some unknown beast, covered his shoulders and connected the cloak to a hood. His entire body seemed to have changed. The formless shadows had taken shape, wrapping around the dull grey fatigues. His exposed arms had turned a ghostly white as shadows were chained along them. One thing remained constant; the emotionless white mask still stared out beyond space into a deep abyss of nothingness. He almost seemed to be in pain in this form now, as if two very different things were conflicting for control. He shrugged off the pain as his body moved in one silent step.

Judas was already behind him, the whip striking him from all sides as he strafed around the priest. Armando could barely move in this form, whatever weight he had taken on was too much for him. The trio of blades shot out from under the cloak, cutting through the walls and ceiling, even the floor, of the hall. Judas jumped and dodged about never taking a single hit as the blades danced in some kind of ceremonious dance. It finally dawned on him that Armando wasn’t in control of this form, that the blades weren’t coming for him, they were indeed moving about in some sort of ceremony, positioning themselves in different symbols. Judas tried desperately to attack the weapons themselves but nothing stopped them. As his power waned and he returned to his human form he rushed over to the blades ready to take hold of them.

“Stand back.” Judas did as instructed, the soft voice appearing behind him. A wave of fire shot forth, coming within inches of Judas’s face. The blades were turned to black ash as they fell to the ground, Armando finally broke out of the form as the dark armor seemed to hang, suspended in air for a second longer. Armando looked up at it in fear, realizing something the others did not. “How long priest?” The gentle voice had a way of commanding one to speak.

“For almost two weeks now, I fear I unlocked something I shouldn’t have…” Judas had only seen his master like this a few times before. He thought that, with the aiding words of Corte, Armando had finally overcome his feelings of being torn in two directions, but now it seemed like no progress had been made at all. “Please, Valchion, do not tell the others of this…that goes for you as well Judas. I will simply make do in my human form.” Armando sulked off into the shadows. Judas just stared at the empty space where the monstrosity had been.

“I suggest you forget what you saw. It seems that two bodies cannot share one soul for too long…” Valchion stepped from out of the shadows to stand right next to the bewildered Judas. “Perhaps if I continue to outrun him I will be free from this, maybe I can help in the end…” He suddenly realized that others were about as he snapped back to the here and now, the cruel look returned to his pure features. “You would do best to forget what I just said as well.” He sighed as he stepped off into the darkness.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Judas basked in the sunlight as he walked about town. A lot had happened to him in a mere month. Though he still had some fears of inadequacy he had come to rely more on himself to solve his problems, and realize when he needed to seek help from others instead of waiting for someone to save him. He walked by a small child waving his hands above his head, his eyes focused on an orange that grew defiantly above his reach. Judas weaved a shadow from the ground that caught the ripe fruit and dropped it down to the child’s grasp.

“Showing a bit of a soft side now, are we?” He recognized that voice, how could one forget the voice of the person they hate most in the world.

“Nero.” Judas put every ounce of contempt and hatred in that one word as he turned to meet the demon hunter. The man stood cockily, his deep blue trench coat swayed softly in the midday wind, a simple white shirt underneath. His entire right arm was covered in a deep black glove but it still couldn’t mask the soft red glow that hummed gently beneath it. His white hair had grown down to his shoulders giving him a much more mature look. The dull black jeans he wore looked like they had just been bought. “Out shopping with the little lady?” Judas nodded his head in the direction of Red Queen, propped along his back, his left hand resting on the handle. Kyrie walked up behind Nero, a few shopping bags in her hands. “What a man, letting her carry everything all by herself.” Though he had grown in the last month, Judas still held certain people in contempt, especially those that dared to tread upon the grounds of demons when they had no right.

Nero clenched his right fist, the glow rising a bit before settling. Kyrie wrapped an arm around the gloved arm, the bags still in her hands. “Come on Nero, now’s not the time for a fight.” She gave him a stern look and he lost all semblance of the cool aura that surrounded him as he fumbled with the blade and nearly threw both him and her down to the ground. With a defeated nod he walked along with her, turning his head back to stare at Judas one last time.

They had met under less than amiable circumstances. Judas was helping the guard fight against a wave of demons that had decided to attack Fortuna his black whip whirling in the soft patter of the rain when Nero came out of nowhere, his demonic hand grasping Judas and slamming him into a wall. Apparently no one told him that Judas was under protection of the knights. The two then proceeded to fight for the next few minutes until Corte intervened at Armando’s behest. In the end, both men felt that neither had come away the victor, and that it called for an eventual rematch.

Even this was considered a good thing in the long run. Armando called Nero a “tether” for Judas, a reason to continue fighting and improving himself, and someone that he knew and acknowledged from the human realm other than Armando himself. He understood what Armando meant, but that didn’t mean he had to agree with the priest. For some reason he kept changing and while he didn’t understand all of these changes he made sure to accept them. He was growing emotions, feelings, everything that made up a human heart. He wanted to be disgusted at himself, sickened at the thought of being a lesser being. But his time with that group of misfits taught himself something about relying on others and finding any source of power that one could grasp on to.

He made his way back to the large chapel, now mostly unused due to circumstances that had occurred a few years back leaving many as non-believers. Armando had made it his home, giving weekly sermons to nearly empty crowds. This too was an oddity to Judas. Week after week people never showed up, but in three week’s time at least ten people showed up to listen to the preaching of this mad-man, a priest that had fought toe to toe with the toughest of demons. Kyrie would sing after the sermon and Nero was always in attendance, which meant Judas always stuck around for the whole thing as well. It was an odd peace that he had obtained. Yet a loud buzz hung in the air, signaling that something soon would come. As the doors to the chapel swung open everyone was gathered around. Armando and Corte sat at a pew, talking in hushed whispers. Nero and Kyrie had ran straight there, the new knights of Fortuna assembled around them. Blayze, Raul and Valchion stood off in their own corner the two humans still asking a torrent of questions to the fire demon. Zacheus was nowhere to be seen, probably still slaving away at his workshop. Armando waved Judas over to him and Corte, who just looked at the demon with enmity.

“So Nero received a call asking him to come to the Devil May Cry itself? This seems a bit much; we still have not received word of either Medea or Durante’s whereabouts.” Armando looked beyond the assembled guard, down to the podium from which he had given his sermon the last month. “If this is regarding Mundus then I am involved as well…Judas.” Armando looked up at the demon that still hovered over them, listening in. “Since you have made the choice to live for yourself you are free to do as you wish.” Judas never even thought of it like that. He still wanted to protect Armando from danger, he still saw him as his lord and master. Without a word Armando nodded, perhaps he was more in tune to others than Judas gave him credit.

“We leave at dawn. I’ll see if I can't get Zach to give us another lift.” Corte half said, half sighed as he realized the full extent of the situation at hand. Nero stepped forward, his right hand almost flaring under the glove.

“If Dante took the time to call me personally then something big is on the horizon. Maybe it’ll explain this aura that’s been hanging around the air.”

[Undying]

Mallet Island, a day after

Durante's eyes slowly opened, crystal blue simmering to answer the morning sun. He had fallen asleep almost as soon as he reached the top of the tower, merely an hour after Mundus' escape. And, apparently, he had slept for the whole day and night afterward. Slowly rising to his feet, he felt his body. Everything was intact, and there was no pain or slowness in his muscles.

"I... am rested..." He murmured slowly.

Why are you so surprised? Durante recognized Ragna's voice. So, that was not a dream. Thinking about her question, he had to admit his surprise was exaggerated. From the moment he came to this island he hadn't any proper rest. This was his first real sleep in a long, long while. The more he thought of it, the more confusing it got, as he couldn't remember the last time he slept without being subconsciously ready to spring and fight. And he had no idea why he suddenly lost that edge. Shrugging, he decided to leave that question for another time. For now he decided to focus on getting off the island and returning to the Devil May Cry.

"But not as I am now..."

The roof of the tower partially crumbled down in ages long past, and now there was a large hole above him, with the rays of the sun coming right through. For a regular human, the hole was too high. But Durante was no man. With a light leap he climbed up to the roof, and looked around. The sea stretched far, but he could see - faintly - the outline of land on the horizon. With a light smirk, he spread his demon wings.

"If father could fly all the way there with that half assed airplane of his, then I can do it without one!"

He jumped.

-The city, three days later-

Durante's eyes opened. Once again, he was awake. For a moment, he couldn't understand what happened, but after a moment the pictures became clear in his head. His leap wasn't strong enough, but he managed to glide a fair distance above the water when his strength ran out and he fell down unceremoniously, straight into the endless blue beneath. The hit into the water was the last thing he remembered, and after that faint voices in the distance.

Looking around, he realized he was inside a hotel room, wide and spacious with white walls and a very tastefully curving lines. Not a single thing, he noticed, was rigid or sharp. It all felt very calm and soothing.

Durante slowly rose to a sitting position, noticing that his shirt had been removed, but his pants were still on. A quick glance revealed his blue jacket on a chair nearby. Another quick glance revealed the room was empty. The only signs of hotel was the "keep quiet" sign hanging on the handle inside of the door. Suddenly the door opened and an elegant man walked in with a tray in hand. He had long, finely combed hair that fell to his shoulders in a careless manner that somehow hinted at precision, black eyes, and pale skin. He wore an elegant brown suit, obviously tailored by a professional worker, and a single gold medal that hung from the left shoulder.

At the sight of Durante, a wide smile spread across his handsome, sharp featured face.

"You're awake! I was beginning to worry, my friend." His voice was deep and commanding.

Durante scrutinized him for a moment. No demon energy, at all. This was a human.

"Indeed. Can you tell me where I am, and how it is I got here?"

"But, I brought you here, friend. We found you during our pleasure cruise, all half dead in the sea, two days ago. You were only partially awake since then, and I was beginning to worry that you might require medical attention... what caused this, friend?”

Durante hesitated for a few moments, pondering what to say. Then he sighed.

“I've been training in the sea for a while, with my boat. Unfortunately I made a mistake in navigation and my boat sunk. I don't know how long I've been in the sea.”

The man nodded, then put the tray down, and Durante noticed the food on it. The man bowed slightly, and pointed to the tray.

“Please, eat. I am Divani Susratov, and I am at your service until you have recovered.”

Durante did not hesitate much and rose from the bed, standing easily on his feet. He felt no weakness, just hunger, and assumed it was a good sign. After he ate, he turned to his coat. It was fixed, all the tears fixed perfectly, with blue patches fitting so seamlessly into the fabric the coat seemed almost new. It once again looked stylish and even cool. Durante lifted it, and after a moment's hesitation put it on. Divali coughed lightly behind him.

“That coat seemed very important to you. Any particular reason?” Durante shrugged. Divali chuckled. “I see. You seem to be the type of person focused on one goal and giving everything to reach it. Am I right?” Durante nodded, feeling the coat against his bare skin. Divali once again chuckled. “I know your type. You've got passion and skill, but you lack one little thing, and that's completely beyond your grasp.”

Durante turned to him, scowling. “What?”

Divali bowed. “Charm.” With a final smile and a wave, he turned and walked away. To Durante, it seemed like the man was walking and laughing all the way. Then he approached the window and looked outside. He recognized the city, and what's more he wasn't that high above ground. The street was quite empty, so Durante opened the large window and jumped out, landing lightly. He suddenly realized that Daemon was tied to his coat, something he hadn't noticed before.

Am I losing my edge?

He thought about what the man had said. What he lacked was charm? He couldn't make anything out of it. Turning, he walked to the opposite direction of the Devil May Cry, not wishing to see his father yet. His decision was made: he will only return when he could force Dante to take back Sparda. On his way, he passed near a shop, and noticed the date and time on the watch hanging from the wall. Two days since he'd left Mallet Island. He continued walking, head held high, blue coat swishing behind him.

-The Devil may Cry, almost a month later-

Dante flipped another page in the newspaper. Demons, dead people, trouble. Every page of the paper was covered in pictures of mutilated people and of fat police officers claiming they were “on the trail of the murderer”. Dante sighed.

“What a load of crap. You'd think by now they'd realize that there's nothing they can do.” Trish, sitting cross legged on the table, only shrugged. Suddenly the door opened unceremoniously, and a man walked in. Dante didn't even look up when he said, “I'm too busy, come back another time.”

“Really?” Answered a cool voice. “I didn't realize that studying the shape of a model's ass was considered “busy”. I must be out of touch with the latest fashion.” Both Dante and Trish's heads shot up to stare at him. Durante, longer haired and without his coat, smirked at them. Within an instant, Trish already embraced him, crushing him in a mother's hug. Durante hugged her back. “I'm sorry,” he said.

Trish stared at him, but Dante, with a knowing smirk, stood up. “Hey, who are you, and what have you done with my son?” Durante's face split in a true, warm smile.

“I've kidnapped him. Care to force his location out of me?” Trish caught up on what was going on, and stepped back, but behind her calm mask, a mother's worry still shone. Dante took out Rebellion, and checked the blade.

“Hmph, gettin' a little rusty in your old age, eh? Let's get you all cleaned up!” He charged, sliding forward with a powerful Stinger move. Durante's hands flashed and Daemon appeared in his palm, slapping Dante's Stinger aside and slashing at his waist. Dante danced away, the knowing smile still on his face. He's gotten sharper, and faster... he's grown!

"Well, whaddaya know! Our little boy's growing up, babe!" Dante called to Trish, looking away and pretending not to pay attention to Durante.

Durante did not waste anymore time waiting. Excitement and almost feverish joy shot through his body. He felt ten times his size, and a hundred times his former self. Daemon shot out, held by a hand that seemed to curve like a giant snake, and slashed at Dante's neck. Rebellion appeared as if out of nowhere, blocking. The metallic sound of their clash sounded like music to the excited Durante. His left hand shot out in a powerful jab and sent Dante flying through the window out to a nearby house. Durante followed, realizing Dante allowed the punch. He jumped right after his father into the building, and spotted a red coat flashing up. Following it he reached the emergency stairs, and shot up them to the roof. Just as he was about to ascend, Rebellion came down in a blur, with a powerful slash. Durante Tricked, and Rebellion bit into the metal of the stairs.

When he reappeared, he stepped on it and stabbed, aiming at Dante's chest. Dante let go of Rebellion and threw his chest backwards, bending away. Daemon passed harmlessly above him, and just as Durante pulled against the momentum Dante snapped back in, grabbed Rebellion and yanked it up, throwing a backhand slash. Durante jumped with the sword, somersaulted and landed in the middle of the roof. Dante turned and slashed down, correctly guessing that Durante's blade would already be nearing him. A spark of electricity from the clash hissed through the air.

Durante stumbled back and brought Daemon down to his waistline, positioned his right leg behind him and slashed again, aiming for Dante's arm. Dante retreated just enough not to lose a hand, but a splatter of blood still shot from a cut on his forearm. Durante's eyes focused on Dante's, crystal blue meeting crystal blue, and for a second they both stared. Then Dante shot forward, coming in with a roundhouse into Durante's ribs. The younger demon hunter flew back, rolling across the roof. Dante charged in, grabbing Rebellion as he passed, and slashed in midair, firing a Drive. Durante dodged, but Dante swung his sword again and again, muttering “two... three!” and another two waves flew towards Durante. Daemon's edge glowed faint blue and Durante slashed across, answering with a blue wave of his own. The air before him rippled and the Drive waves disappeared. Durante looked at his sword.

“Hmph. Guess I can't do a Judgment Cut properly just yet...”

Dante chuckled in response, and twirled Rebellion around. “Not bad, not bad... Now, let's rock!”

Dante charged in, sliding forward and slashing. Durante blocked, but Rebellion's path changed suddenly into a fast stab, then it slashed across, and Dante twirled, the blade coming in low. Durante just barely avoided, but Dante followed instantly, Rebellion slashing madly. Durante recognized the attack, the Dance Macabre. Durante blocked another mad slash, and suddenly Rebellion's tip was in a straight line with his eyes. A slight smirk twisted his face, and Daemon snapped up, tossing Rebellion away. Before Dante even registered the move, Daemon already flashed in, it's blue blade slashing even more madly than Rebellion's. Both blades, seemingly independent of their masters danced, slamming against one another time and again. Both Dante and Durante jumped back, Durante twirling Daemon easily, and Dante holding Rebellion on his shoulder.

“Not bad, son. You 'got a name for that?”

Durante chuckled. “Azure Macabre.”

Dante smiled. “All right. Step it up, kiddo!”

Dante vanished.

Durante vanished as well.

The clang of the swords resounded all around the neighborhood. Dante thrust a hand into his red jacket and pulled out Ebony, firing several shots at Durante, who blocked them by twirling his sword. He snapped it to the ground, and all bullets lined up. Then, with a careless backhand he flipped them at Dante who blocked them with a smile.

“You know...when I fought your uncle at the top of the Temen-ni-gru, he did the exact same thing.” Dante's smile widened. Durante looked at Daemon, but his eyes glinted in happiness. "So you really were paying attention when I told you those stories!" Dante snickered aloud, taunting his son. Durante simply ignored him, his mind keenly focused on the task at hand. It felt as though he had waited an eternity for this moment.

“I have sworn that I will force you to take it back, father. Are you ready?” Dante nodded with a smirk, and Durante charged in, stabbing. Dante jumped up and jumped again, flying high, and slashed down, intending to slash Durante in two with Helm Splitter. Durante's left hand shot out and back, and a blast of lightning hit Dante in the shoulder – and what's more, a blue-edged sword stuck into it. Durante yanked it out, and Dante fell down to his knees. Before he could regain his balance and jump away, Durante already turned around in a rotating motion, both katanas held out. Durante's blades where a hair from Dante's face when he vanished, appearing above. Instantly he pushed himself sideways, jumping far from Durante's deadly windmill. He lifted Rebellion, but before he could do anything else, Daemon stabbed into the ground right in front of him. A single, straight cut on his cloth indicated that the sword purposefully missed by a tiny hair. Durante looked at his father, his eyes respectful, yet still arrogant.

“I think I'll keep this sword, for now. Or at least, part of it.” He grabbed Daemon's handle, and a blue glow surrounded it momentarily before it transformed into Sparda again. Then, he pulled at something, and yanked a pair of pendants apart. Both were massive blood red stones, one encased in a golden locked, the other in a silver one. Sparda reverted back into Force Edge. Durante tossed the silver locket to Dante, and hung the golden one on his own neck, then took Force Edge. Dante placed Rebellion on his back again, patted Durante on the shoulder.

“Not bad, kid. You've gotten stronger and better at fighting, and you've definitely grown in character. Now you need to learn how to tap into your demonic powers, and next time we fight, it will be even more fun!” Durante nodded, a smile on his face, then suddenly turned serious.

“I have one request, though. I need a new power, now that Mundus has escaped. Something that will allow me to even the scales, even if it's just a little.”

Dante looked at Durante for a moment, then smiled. “Funny you should mention that. I've got something special in mind... I was going to wait until Nero and Lady arrived, but I see no harm in giving it to you now.” He held out his hand, and a silvery-blue orb formed above his open palm. “This is Quicksilver, the power over time and space.” The orb floated towards Durante and sunk into him, causing a slight explosion. Durante felt no different. Dante nodded. “Your current level of demon energy is not high enough to handle it, so you wont be able to command it just yet. When you can handle it, you will have to forcefully open it, but I can't be sure what'll happen when you do, so be extra careful.”

Durante sighed. “Can't it ever be easy?”

Dante laughed. “Well, if you weren't such a weak ass kid, you might not have so many problems.” Durante punched him in the shoulder.

“Whatever, you crazy old geezer. I'll see you when hell shows its ugly face.”

With those words, he Tricked, vanishing. Dante nodded.

“Yeah, when hell shows its ugly face...”

((Mini-boss fight soonish, new power then ))

[DarkSlayer]

-Later that evening, after gathering at Regal’s Chapel-

Corte had instructed the demon hunters to prepare for their departure in the morning. Meanwhile, he would pay Zacheus another visit to try to secure another ride to Devil May Cry.

There was a small, cool breeze that gently whispered through the streets of Fortuna that night. Corte didn’t need much time to prepare. In fact, he already had everything he needed for the journey, and for what would come. He walked at a relaxed pace towards Stone Cold Mechanics, taking his time to enjoy the peace. Demonic activity had increased dramatically since that cursed day when the seal on Mundus had been lifted just moments before they could intervene, but tonight had been quiet. Corte knew that a call from the legendary Dante himself meant only trouble for everyone.

As Zacheus’s shop came into view, Corte began to think about the events that took place on Mallet Island, and what a nightmare it had been. The only comforting thought that came from those horrific memories was the fact that he had become stronger. Before the trip to Mallet, he had always had a passion for ridding the world of demons, but fighting alongside with those who were demonic – hybrid or pureblood – had helped him appreciate his allies. In the past he would have slain them all, if only for the fact that demon blood had coursed through their veins. It was Father Regal that opened his eyes the most: here was a priest with every intention of aiding people like Corte in their fight against demons for the sake of humanity, and yet he had a demonic side as well. Corte chuckled softly to himself; perhaps there was hope for them after all.

A soft chime rang out as Corte opened the door to the shop, and once again he was greeted with an empty lobby. This time the door to the back was wide open, through which the blaring of Zacheus’s rock music could be heard. Corte stepped through the door way and glanced around the shop at all of the cars, planes, and other mechanical devices that lay strewn about. It hadn’t changed too much since his last visit nearly two months prior, but many of the devices had obviously been worked on since. One in particular was the small plane that Zacheus had been working on before. Repairs seem to have been completed, and it had even been repainted.

His first order of business would be to find the radio. Normally he would have no objection to the music, but he needed to discuss matters of great importance with his old friend, and he preferred not to yell over the radio. He was in luck; he found the radio sitting atop the large wooden desk near the door. After examining it for a moment he located the volume dial and proceeded to lower the volume. With any luck…

”OI! Who turned down my music?!” A familiar voice echoed through the large shop, along with the sound of a loaded pistol being drawn. Corte had hoped the loss of his music would lure him out of wherever he was hiding. He simply snickered and waved from the desk.

”Got a minute?”

”Yeah, I’ll be right there.” Zacheus called back, disappearing deeper into the shop. He returned a moment later carrying an automatic shotgun and aimed it at Corte as he reached his desk. Corte looked taken back by this gesture, not quite sure why his friend would knowingly point a gun at him.

”Uh…Zach?”

”Nothing personal bud, but last time I pointed my pistols at you, you turned around and gave me some bad news. I was kinda hoping if I pointed a bigger gun at you, you’d have some good news.” He snickered.

Corte laughed weakly, knowing that what he was going to ask was far worse than what he had asked last time. Instead of a simple trip to an island for a wild goose chase, they would be staring into the face of hell itself. Corte cleared his throat loudly before responding.

”Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I’ve come to ask another favor.” Corte sighed, regaining his composure. Zacheus’s smirk quickly turned to a scowl as he stared down the barrel of his shotgun at Corte.

”We received a call from the Devil May Cry. It seems the situation is far worse than we had anticipated. Mundus has revived the Temen-ni-gru and has opened the gates of hell. Dante specifically asked for Nero and Lady’s assistance in the matter. He also encouraged them to bring any ‘capable friends’.” Corte said in a very matter-of-fact tone. Zacheus only glared at him for a moment before lowering his shotgun and walking briskly through his shop.

”Shit...” Zacheus sighed, grumbling to himself. ”…you at least had the decency to call me last time…”

Zacheus began pacing back and forth stressfully, lost in thought. He pulled his long, wavy brown hair out of his ponytail and retied it before taking out a cigarette.

”You see this?” Zacheus asked sternly, holding up his unlit cigarette. ”I’ve been trying to quit for forever, but for some reason I can’t. I blame you.” Zacheus sneered, narrowing his eyes. Corte simply frowned as he waited for an answer.

”I appreciate your frustration, but we’re talking about the fate of the human race –“

”Yeah, and? We’re all going to hell eventually anyways, right?” Zacheus hissed.

”Zach…” Corte sighed, trying to ignore Zacheus’s negativity.

”Yeah, yeah. Alright.” Zacheus groaned, shaking his head. He took a long drag of his cigarette and exhaled before continuing. ”When did you plan on leaving?”

”At dawn.”

Zacheus simply nodded, taking another drag.

[Kendaric]

Vadaria looked skyward to the top of the tower as she felt the familiar sensation of Kendaric's aura, it was a unique feeling she mused. Though it was full of murderous intent it some how found a way to put you at ease. Such an odd feeling she thought, and yet so comforting. She hoped that whatever had piqued his interest would calm his lust down and allow him to keep his inner soul at bay. A small pluck at her brain made her turn and look in the direction of DMC. "They will be here soon..." she murmured to herself. "...and then things will once again be set into motion." her voice lost its cheer and slipped into darkness as her mind wandered.

"Growing weary of your godlike tasks?" a solemn male voice called from the air around her. "Perhaps you would like things to end?" the voice chuckled lightly.

"That is not for me to decide, Gillian. You know that, or has the record keeper failed to see something?" her voice was agitated as she spoke.

"No, no I understand very well. It was only a question." his voice returned to a stern tone as a red robed mage appeared before her.

"So what is it that the neutral god has come personally to see? It must be important if you are willing to stop writing history." her voice cooled and regained its musical tone.

"Stop? Never. I do not need to be present for my quill to write out history. I simply wished to see the tower for myself. This doesn't rise above ground often, you know." he moved to stand next to her on the edge.

"So it would seem. So what is the real reason? I do not think it polite to go reading the minds of gods so you'll forgive me for not already knowing." her voice flattened a little as she pushed for her answer.

"Oh yes, true indeed... not polite at all. Fine, fine I came with a warning for your dear husband, but I see he is preoccupied. No matter, will you tell him that if he wishes to stay unbound as he is he should keep a lower profile? My sister Takisis is not one to let such things go unnoticed forever." his voice was soft and calculated as he analyzed the tower before him.

Vadaria sat for a moment thinking about what the mage had said before replying. "Well, that explains a few things. He hasn't had to control his own power on a physical plain for a long time. Yes, Gillian, I will pass on your message as soon as my dear husband comes back down. I thank you for your company as well, it has been an honor to talk with you as always. And yes, you are one of the few gods that we trust." her voice was comforting as she spoke with a new smile. despite the destruction around her she seemed to radiate as if she were sitting in a forest meadow.

"Didn't you say you thought it rude to read a god's mind? No matter, they are indeed comforting words to hear. Thank you my dear, it has been a pleasure to share this time with you. Now that I have all the information on the tower that I need I can go back to adding my detail to the history books. Farewell." and with that Gillian was gone.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As the vanguard vanished Kendaric leaped backwards, his body floating effortlessly in the tower's high wind. He counted to himself as he let his eyes shut and his breathing slow, 1....2....3.... and in the flash that the vanguard reappeared he twisted his body around the massive scythe landing lightly on the tip of the blade. "Nice try but you're so predictable." he spoke harshly as his eyes flared open and his flew down the length of the scythe's pole. Just as his hands would have made contact the vanguard was gone. Kendaric landed lightly, his body spinning with the follow through of his swing.

"So that is how its going to be eh?" his voice grew a bit excited as the vanguard reappeared above him and came down with extreme force. Kendaric side stepped the blade and moved to swing again his claws barely scratching the demon before it vanished again. "Well if that isn't annoying then I don't know what is." he growled, but before he could say more the Vanguard sliced him from behind. The blade glanced off of him as the robes disappeared and reappeared. Kendaric flew forward his body flipping towards a pillar as the vanguard slipped into the abyss again.

"Well this is new. I didn't hear bells this time... hmm." Kendaric landed sideways on the pillar his body coming to stand straight out. "Your not a normal demon. I guess being so close to the gate has its perks then? You almost ruined my borrowed robes, and that would not have been a good thing." his hands move in gestures towards his robes and then to his neck as his fingers moved across his throat. he leaped down to the ground and crouched again his eyes shining brightly as he waited for the vanguard to strike.

As the vanguard reappeared behind him he smirked and vanished in the same way the vanguard did. As the vanguard went into the void it came flying back out into a pillar Kendaric close behind. "I can poof in and out too." he said violently as he feet planted themselves on the vanguards head. "Time to die..." His voice shifted to a murderously sinister tone as he lifted the vanguard before him. "I promise you there will be no next world for you. Only eternal darkness and silence." With that Kendaric's mouth open and the flowing aura of the vanguards soul flowed into him. As the demon fell the only thing seen before it turned to dust was the wholes in its demonic face.

[DarkSlayer]

-The Night before Departure-

The great halls and massive chambers of the Temen-ni-gru lay broken and disfigured from its first revival some twenty years ago. The demonic inhabitants had all been slain during that time, thanks to the legendary Dante in his efforts to stop his brother Vergil. There wasn’t a soul to be found within, living or otherwise. One of the few items that remained intact since the revival and fall was the great statue that stood erect between two massive sets of staircases. Several great marble wings wrapped around the body a bearded man holding a scale of sorts with a third eye on his forehead.

The sound of heels softly clicking across the marble floor echoed throughout the great hall and up through the tower as two figures stepped through the shadows and into the lobby. Whispers could be heard echoing off the walls as they chatted quietly amongst themselves as they approached the great statue. The smaller of the two figures stopped short of the statue, while the taller of the two took several more steps and knelt at the base of the statue. Several moments passed before the eyes of the statue began to glow white, and then a dark red.

”Yes lord, it will be done.” Emelious said aloud, his head bowed as he remained knelt before the statue. Several seconds later the glowing eyes of the statue faded back to their original marble color, and Emelious rose to his feet. He ran a gloved hand through his wavy, dark blue hair and offered his left arm to his sister, Eve, and she gladly accepted. Together they strolled through the halls of the tower, examining the destruction that had occurred so long ago. Chamber after chamber, hall after hall they perused until finally they reached the core of the tower, its glowing lights and mechanisms galore.

”Ah, our first stop. I believe some changes are in order…” Emelious grinned as he lifted his right arm and placed his hand on one of the mechanical components. The color of the machine changed the moment his fingers touched the warm steel, washing over the entire machine changing it from a golden color to a dark shade of violet. Black steam rose from the room as the creaking and grinding sound of the machine grew louder and louder, until it was almost deafening. The tower itself had changed; the locations of halls and chambers being completely different. The great hall remained at the center of the tower, but everything else had been rearranged.

Emelious smiled. He could feel the tower slowly coming back to life as the demonic energy he had implanted within the core coursed through the tower. He and Eve casually made their way back to the lobby where Emelious had received his orders. Demons of all sorts began to appear within the tower, feeding the tower with their demonic essence. The siblings returned to the base of the statue, and Eve released her brother once more as he raised his arms above his head, focusing his energy into his fingertips.

”Finally, to restore this edifice to its former glory…”

Every inch of the tower began to repair itself; broken stone and marble reforming into walls, halls and chambers alike. With the repairs and changes made, their task was complete. They were the new keepers of the Temen-ni-gru, and as such they departed the lobby and went their separate ways to their own chambers.

At long last, we shall crush the humans and reclaim this world as our own… Emelious thought to himself as he climbed a tall spiral staircase. He glanced out a large window to his right as he passed it, and his eyes met a pair of lavender eyes and a toothy grin. Time seemed to stop as the figure came into view, their eyes level with one another. As the figure flew past, the lavender quickly changed to crimson, matching his eyes. Emelious stopped and stared out into the night sky for a moment. The sight of those lavender eyes had sent a chill down his spine, making him uneasy as he was not familiar with fear…

[Kendaric]

As night fell and the moon rose Kendaric stood lightly atop one of the spires his eyes on the sky. A familiar voice chimed in his head "Love? Gillian came to see you." Vadaria's mind reached out to him. He smiled softly his eyes gleamed as the moon washed over him. "And what is it that our dear friend wants of me?" his voice was like rough velvet as he spoke aloud into the night air. As the moon rose higher Kendaric's eyes began to shift to a light jade, his body already at its full height and growing steadily as the moon grew brighter. "He sends you a warning." she replied soothingly. Kendaric chuckled lightly... it was not like a Gillian to bid him words of advice. "And what would this warning be my dear?" he asked in a more humble tone. His robes had begun to bulk to the seems when she replied. "He said... tell him that if he wishes to stay unbound as he is he should keep a lower profile? My sister Takisis is not one to let such things go unnoticed forever.' and then vanished." her voice was calm and nurturing.

Kendaric growled lightly at her words, his eyes closing to the moon. "Damn him..." he thought aloud "but he is right." The wind around him seemed to stand still even his ever present aura seemed to vanish. As he slipped himself into meditation his body shrank in girth. His breathing came to a stop as his body reached its normal size, and his brow began to sweat from the seemingly simple task. "Curses..." he muttered to himself. "... I can't go any lower without going all out first. Damn that old man for his interruption. Oh well..." his voice grew softer and lighter as the velvet feel returned to its rightful tone. "I guess Ill just have to greet them as is... itll be nice to have my normal body back." his voice was low but even so it demanded the attention of the shadows around him... demons shrank away second guessing their sneaking about.

Suddenly his eyes flared open and his aura erupted around him as if a flaming tornado had been unleashed. In moments everything was calm again and Kendaric lavender eyes stared into the sky glowing fiercely. the air around him resumed its usual playfulness with his robes and the flames died back down to just seven inches around him. "Its refreshing..." he sighed and leaped forwards diving over the edge of the tower and plummeted to the ground. As he enjoyed his free fall something within the tower caught his attention and he stared into the windows.

As he bridged to top of one window in particular he saw a pair of crimson eyes staring back at him. He smirked baring his fangs just enough for the light to catch them, his body shifted clockwise around the window as he manipulated his weight effortlessly forcing his feet to the ground without ever really moving. This allowed him to slow his fall ever so much to see what was behind those eyes. With in the room he not only saw the eyes but the man and women beyond them. As soon as his feet were in position his eyes flashed bright crimson and he fell below the window seal. "So those were the two from the Island... and there already here. This should prove to be interesting" he thought to himself as he fell. His feet caught hold of the wall and launched off to the right giving his fall a slight spiral around the tower.

[Andraste]

((Don't worry about it, Ken. And thanks, Josh-niisan, for making my life alot easier. I really appreciate it. ^^ )

On the outskirts of a fortified metropolitan harbor facing the distant island of Fortuna City, the Port of Solamis, a small town overshadowed by its majestic neighbor stood in the glooms of the towering hill behind it. A thick brick wall about twenty feet high encircled the entire town like a miniature fortress, keeping the people inside safe from the dangers that may lurk beyond the town’s borders. But whether it could keep out the walking perils outside the wall was another question altogether. As for tonight, it was hardly an obstacle for the midnight guest the townspeople were about to receive.

Despite the cloudy sky that night, the light from the waxing moon illuminated a slight movement in the woods lining the town’s eastern wall. A slim, dark figure emerged from the shadows of the woods and quickly scaled up the wall. As Medea reached the top, she took a brisk halt and scanned the streets in front of her. She memorized the direction of every street and road that she saw as well as the details of the small little corners and dark alleyways that she might need to use in case she was discovered. She narrowed her eyes as the far end of the town came into view. Right on the other side of the town where the grounds began to rise up into the hills stood a grand mansion – the Ezecora Mansion. Unlike the rest of the town where the buildings were built closely together, this one was surrounded by a beautiful and well-maintained landscape large enough to fit in fifty of the beach house that she and her master lived in. The structure of the mansion itself was huge and impressive, with enormous columns made in the style of the Corinthian order holding up a gigantic, white dome, which housed the center point of the building. Graceful, winged human-like sculptures stood at the edge of the dome, some with harps and flutes while others held swords and bows. Beneath the moonlight, their shadows seem to come alive and danced across the intricately carved surface of the dome. All in all, this mansion undoubtedly gave the impression of a paradise within the town. It was undoubtedly built with the idea of giving the townsfolk something to look upon and be reminded of the safe haven they were all so eagerly yearning for, something which they could never have in this world, especially when their lives were about to be terrorized by the creatures of hell.

Medea lingered a little longer on the top of the wall. Every second wasted atop the wall meant there was a higher risk of someone noticing her, but the pleasure of feeling the soft breeze caressing her skin was far too good to resist. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes just as something glowing floated from the woods towards her and attached itself to her. The moment it did, it melded into her skin and disappeared. Its presence didn’t seem to bother her at all as she let out a soft sigh and took one last glance up at the vast night sky displayed before her eyes. Then, in the wink of an eye, she jumped off and slid gracefully down the inner side of the wall. The moment her feet touch the ground, she slipped into the shadows of the dark alleyways of the town. It wasn’t long before she found a part of the town that was truly deserted and came out into the opening. Walking slowly down one of the concrete paths that lined both sides of a narrow street she had just entered, she found herself somewhat relieved that there was not a single soul to be seen at this hour and the atmosphere was deadly quiet, allowing her to walk around freely and to think in peace.

Disaster.

That one single word was enough to describe what Medea went through during her trip to the sullen Mallet Island. And indeed it was the truth that her trip there had been nothing but disastrous. Her mission this time had been an absolutely failure and Medea couldn’t help but wonder what went wrong. She considered her actions earlier and decided that it had been a foolish action to expose herself to the rest of the group in the first place. If she had remained unseen, she would have had a better chance in eliminating all of them, thus accomplishing her task.

But if I hadn’t had done so, that cocky brat might not have survived the fall, she thought. But at that moment, a rather painful memory resurfaced.

But because he survived...

Medea gritted her teeth as an image of Durante trying to kill her flashed through her mind. Her survival then had been wholly due to Corte’s heroic selflessness. If the man had not stood in front of her and deflected Durante’s attack, she would have been long dead. And because he had bravely placed himself between her and the vile, mindless creature, he had almost lost his own life. In all the years she had served as an assassin, never once had she met a person quite like Corte, who was so willing to sacrifice himself for someone he didn’t even know. His actions were honorable, yet foolish. But foolish in a good way, she decided. A strange, unknown feeling filled her as she thought of the time he carried her down from the top of the roofs. It was a feeling of warmth and security. He doesn’t deserve to die...

NO! A cold, familiar voice resonated through her entire form, its bitterness numbing all her emotions. I cannot feel for any of my preys. It is not the way of the assassins.

She winced at the fact that she had almost sympathized with Corte. This was one of the reasons why she should never had reveal herself to the rest of the little ragtag group. Fighting alongside them would only create emotional attachments sooner or later. And emotional attachments would only make her task even more difficult. Pushing the thought away, she turned her attention to the next question that had been bothering her ever since she arrived in Mallet Island; why does her master want them all dead?

Lady, Zacheus, Corte, Durante, Armando and his servant, Judas; all their lives meant nothing to Medea before the mission. To her, they were just names; names of faceless individuals bound to die at her hands. But now that she had met them, talked to them, and fought alongside them, she realized that she shared a common goal with them.

“To destroy evil...,” the words escaped her lips unknowingly. If so, why would master want them dead? Surely he must know of their intentions for heading to Mallet Island. Otherwise, he would not have sent me there after them. But if he knew, then why would he want me to kill those who could have been our allies?

More questions flooded her mind as she continued to walk up a different street.

What are his plans? He never reveals what’s on his mind. He never shares his horde of grand ideas and plans with me. Is the assassination of these people part of a bigger plan to bring down the Lord of Hell? If not, then WHAT exactly is he up to?

A sudden burst of cold wind raging through the street snapped her out of her thoughts. She pulled her coat tighter around her. It was wet from her last visit to the drain pipe and didn’t smell quite as pleasant as when she first got it. The same could be said for the rest of her garment. She pressed onwards irritably. It wasn’t long before the wind died down. But even so, she could still feel something moving against her. Every step she took, she found it harder to move. Dried leaves and pieces of rubbish flew off the ground. The trees moved as though the wind was still raging through the branches.

But there is no wind.

Medea stiffened. She tried to sense for demonic energy but there was none. Still, this was not a natural phenomenon and whatever force this was, it was weighing her down while making everything else fly off the ground. The trees were bent right up to their trunks as the unknown force threatened to uproot them from the ground. Even the parked cars began to shift dangerously as if giant hands are moving them about. Medea covered her eyes partially with her left arm to avoid the flying debris and attempted to carry on. Almost immediately, a single lamp post not far from her was ripped from its place on the sidewalk and began to tumble down the street. It wasn’t long before the force sent it spinning dangerously towards her. Medea rolled over swiftly, avoiding the metal pole by mere centimeters. Another lamp post nearby swung dangerously low as the unseen force proceeded to lift a car from its place on a parking spot. She deftly rolled over to avoid the lamp crashing down on her and jumped out of the way of the car hurling downhill. She picked herself up just in time to see the car slammed onto another vehicle just a couple of meters away.

Medea wasted no time getting out of the place. She slipped into an alleyway that was narrow enough to block out any other object from the street from crashing down at her. But she didn’t stop. She knew she had to keep moving if she wanted to stay alive. Remaining stationary in one place would be fatal even in an alleyway like this. Details of the town’s plan came flooding back into her mind as she raced against the clock to get to the Ezecora Mansion in one piece.

Just then, something heavy and solid crashed onto her back. Her mind went blank briefly before she could finally contemplate what had just happened. She felt something within her snapped, but she was too confused to figure out what was it. She fell forward and spit out blood. Before long, immense pain flooded through her entire body followed by an eerie sensation of numbness. For a moment, she just laid there on the ground in the dark alleyway. There was no sound, no emotion, no pain – nothing. She looked around and saw the walls of the nearby buildings begin to collapse but she couldn’t move. It felt as though she was looking through a glass window into a separate world, unable to reach out to the other side. Something was destroying this town, but she couldn’t stop it. Her vision began to blur. And just then, she thought she saw something, or someone.

It was a woman.

Fair and slender with long, dark wavy hair framing the curves of her face and neck, she was the epitome of a Greek goddess. There was something dark and mysterious about her, yet her midnight blue eyes seemed to radiate warmth and comfort - a feeling which Medea had long since forgotten. Medea fixed her gaze on the woman as the latter smiled and raised her hand gracefully, beckoning her to come closer. Medea tried to move, but once again, she realized that she could no longer feel her body. Her mind was becoming hazier by the minute and the more she tried to move, the faster she felt her consciousness slipping away from her. She struggled just to stay awake. The fact that the woman was not affected by the catastrophe that was sweeping through the town was suspicious enough but Medea was far too intrigued by her presence to pay any attention. Whatever that was happening around her didn’t matter anymore then. The whole town may collapse and Mundus can take over the world for all that she cared. There was only one thing on her mind in that instant, and that was to find out who this woman was. Her features were so familiar, yet Medea could not remember anything about her.

When Medea did not make any attempt to move, the woman’s smile faded away. Her arm fell to her side and she stood there motionless as strips of shadows emerged from the ground and devoured her. The feeling of warmth that Medea had initially felt from gazing into her eyes was no longer there. Instead, she found herself staring into a pair of cold, empty vaults- lifeless and perilous. Medea struggled to move and when she failed, she tried to call out to the woman, but she couldn’t get the words out. Fear – the fear of losing something dear and valuable – gripped Medea as the woman began to disappear into darkness. She felt frightened for the first time, like a child who was lost and alone. She struggled to stay awake, knowing her time was running out. The woman was fast vanishing from her sight, as were the rest of the surrounding buildings as they swirled together to form a black void which seemed to envelope her entire mind. And from within the void, she could hear a shrill laughter, menacing and evil. The laughter rang through her entire mind, mocking her and depriving her of any last hope. She was drawing near the end of her life but there was nothing she could do. And as she let out her last breath, one word finally escaped her lips.

"Mother..."

[Ymir'sEmbrace]

The group waited in the silence of the chapel as Corte went to grab Zacheus. The slow growls that hung on the whispers of the air were a good sign that it was best for them to simply wait in the chapel as the sun sank beyond the horizon, a beacon to the demons that now plagued the city on a nightly basis. Judas stood; the cut and torn battle fatigues he had been wearing for the entirety of the week before nearly falling off as he did. Nero chuckled to himself as Kyrie walked forward, one of the bags she had been carrying earlier that day still in her hands. She pushed the bag forward into Judas’s hands, a genuine smile lighting up her features.

”I saw these and thought of you.” Judas looked over to Nero relishing in the slight jealousy that was evident on his face. With a deep and humble bow Judas accepted the bag, letting his finger gently caress her hand for just a second. She looked up at him with surprise, but he didn’t notice at all. Judas stared intently at Nero, waiting for the reaction. The demon hunter stood with anger, the light of his demonic arm nearly brighter than the black of the arm-length glove that covered it. Just as Judas had hoped he would react.

”Of course, thank you for thinking of me.” He lifted the clothes from the bag, revealing a stunning white leather jacket with a black cloth hood that seemed to fit his mood perfectly. A black shirt and a pair of faded jeans were also in the bag. Oddly enough, he didn’t mind her tastes in clothes.

”I know you two are fighting right now, but Nero only fights with people he has respect for. I just know you two will become great friends.” Kyrie clapped her hands together with delight as Judas stepped out of the confessional, his new clothes fitting perfectly.

“Just one last touch.” Judas touched the front of the jacket as the inky black shadow that comprised his whip spread into the jacket creating a swirling pattern along the surface of it. ”Yes, this will do nicely.” As if time had been waiting for just that moment the growls of the demons intensified outside of the chapel, called to the demonic sanctum that lay below them. It was time to see if his training had made a difference.

Without a word Judas made his way to the door, Nero following in his steps. ”I can handle this myself, demon.” The straps that held the glove on his arm was loosening, the continuous hum of his blazing arm growing more consistent by the second. “Oh, I’m sure you believe you are capable of taking care of them, but it’d be best if you let me do the heavy lifting. After all, wouldn’t want to make you look like a fool in front of your precious Kyrie.” Nero tried to say something in retort, but was cut off as three Assaults jumped from the shadows towards them. Without realizing it, both had managed to make it out of the chapel into the empty square that led to the church.

In the past, the small garden that surrounded the chapel would have been well cared for. The fountain in the center of the church would receive a steady supply of water which blossomed out to the flourished pillars that comprised the gate. The years of disregard for the church’s welfare had left it a husk of its former self, the garden now overrun with weeds, the fountain awash with grime and mud, and the pillars still had marks from Dante and Nero’s battles that had taken place there before, a perfect place for Judas to see just how much his intense training sessions had done for him.

Nero grabbed at the middle Assault, his demonic arm stretching beyond Judas’s shoulder. With a quick hop and a step off of Judas’s shoulder, Nero had managed to reach the demon in seconds and unleashed the furious strokes of Red Queen. Judas didn’t like being out staged. Laying a single fingertip on the moving black wisp that floated around his new jacket was all it took for him to draw his whip. With a simple step he dodged both of the attacking demons and delivered a single crack of the dark form from his side. One of the lizard beasts took the hit in its thigh, sending it spiraling to the ground below. The second dodged it, rearing back on all fours for a second leaping strike. Before Judas had a chance to lash out at it, Nero reached to it and picked it up with his demonic arm, now grossly out of proportion to its owner’s body. With a few quick beatings into the ground the demon was already bloodied up. Rearing back, Nero tossed its body into the murky fountain. ”See, all by myself.” Judas just sighed as he readied his whip.

From the depths of the fountain a new wave of the monsters arose, this time adorned in the battle armor that gave them their name. Without a word the two got to work attacking the monsters. Judas let out continuous strokes of his whip that cut through the shields with ease, while Nero followed up with shots from Blue Rose. Before long the demons surrounded the two of them, their relentless attacks a reminder of the danger they could pose in numbers. The dark whip held taut in his hands, Judas let out an unearthly chuckle as his eyes glowed black. The whip seemed to melt onto his arms. The dark ink swam about in circles, making odd loops and strange designs. Without waiting for anything to react he dashed forward unleashing a flurry of attacks that left inky black splotches on anything he touched. He danced through the enemies, landing softly away from them. ”See the light of redemption.” With that single phrase the splotches of ink came to life, each one forming into a giant spike that cut into the spots they landed on.

”Hey hey, watch what you’re doing!” Nero threw off his blue coat, a large spike forming where his leg would have been. ”Oh, I didn’t think you’d be stupid enough to just stand there.” Nero gave him a cold stare as his hand gripped the throttle of Red Queen, The remaining Assaults jumped at the noise, thinking they had an easy target. With a few steps and jumps Nero managed to jump above each of the demons, the orange glow of his arm almost shadowed by the deep red flare of his sword. With a loud cry of joy he aimed the sword down, using the momentum he had gained coming up to such a height to land down on each Assault, their skulls cut through with his blade. As he landed a large flame erupted from his sword reaching all the way to Judas’s feet. The threat was over, but the two continued to glare at each other.

Without a word Judas clapped his hands together letting the whip reform. Nero revved up Red Queen with even more fury than before. The two stood, fixed in a deadly stare. They each waited for the other to make the first move, ready to end the bad blood between them. Just as Judas slowly lifted his leg a few indescribable millimeters the chapel doors bust open. Armando stared out at the two with admonishing eyes. Nero relaxed his grip on his blade, letting it slip until the tip hit the concrete below. Judas sighed and wrapped the whip around his arm before letting it slip back into his new jacket. It was only a matter of time until they finally got their fight. Judas was looking forward to it.

[Undying]

Durante stepped from behind a crumbled wall, into the sunlight. It didn't fit his mood. The night before had not been productive at all. He battled many demons, but except the Vanguard who planted a scythe through his left shoulder, they were hardly a challenge. His new abilities have made him too strong. Sighing, he headed to what remained of the door. Although he could have easily exited through any of the many holes in the wall, he chose not to. Something symbolic about the door made him continue through it.

You're getting a little sentimental here, Durante dear.

Durante sighed again. Ragna's mental intrusions sometimes made for a very annoying distraction. He chose not to reply, instead taking a deep breath of air and coughing on the dust that surrounded the room.

Dust? Once again, Durante ignored Ragna. She was being too obvious.

Just as he neared the door, blue coat swishing behind him, a pair of Dullahan rippled through the walls behind him, and lowering their shields, charged in. The dust, meanwhile swirled together to form a Sloth, which teleported at once and attacked Durante, scythe descending. Durante didn't seem to move, but the Sloth was slashed in two, and the Dullahan fell apart.

“Not even a challenge...” Durante's hand glowed, retracting Ragna. The fights have become so dull, so useless since he finished his training. He couldn't understand. Either his power had grown so much he has become too strong for most demons, or... what? His mind raced around the question, coming back in the same circle. Was his strength comparable to Dante? To uncle Vergil?

It was a troubling thought. Surely he could not be so strong. But out of all the demons he slew up until now – and there were almost a hundred, not counting the lowly foot soldiers – none presented the slightest challenge. Even the strongest he faced were nothing at all.

He almost despaired.

“Have I reached the limit...? If the sky's the limit... then am I there already?”

“Hardly, Son of the Dark Knight.” Durante turned his head to see an old, gnarled lizard step from inside the wall. It was as tall as he, slightly bent, and its skin was old and dry. But its huge legs and muscled neck hinted at amazing physical strength. Durante slowly turned to regard the beast.

“What do you mean, lizard?” The thing chuckled.

“I am called Zeze, first of the Bagan. And what I mean is that you are not at the peak of your power at all. You delude yourself into believing it, since you have never faced a truly powerful opponent.”

“And you are that powerful opponent?”

Zeze's jaws parted. “No, I am not, Son of the Dark Knight. But it doesn't matter. I will tell you this. You are not powerful enough to defeat the Great King of Darkness – you are not even powerful enough to defeat me!” With that, Zeze charged in, legs pumping. Force Edge appeared in Durante's hand, and stabbed into Zeze's chest. The tip of the blade slid across the old scales, but did not penetrate. Zeze's jaws opened and neared Durante's neck, closing on the forearm he lifted to block.

The teeth did not penetrate the coat, but Durante didn't care about that. What he did care about was why didn't the sword stab through the old lizard. Zeze twisted, bringing its hind legs to bear, kicking right off of Durante. Its teeth scratched on the coat, but didn't even tear it. Zeze landed on the wall, burying sharp claws right into the stone.

“So... that coat is demonic armour? You put a very powerfully condensed amount of demonic energy into a coat, defending you from most low class physical attacks. Not a bad idea... that way you defend yourself from those pesky Seven Hells.”

Durante lifted Force Edge, examining the blade. It was still as sharp as before, not having dulled in the slightest. But, somehow, it failed to penetrate Zeze's skin. He looked quizzically at the lizard. Could it be that it was the same power as what he was using? An armour of sorts? He knew how to break his own defenses, and if this was a similar ability...

He charged, a powerful push of his legs sending him flying towards the lizard, preparing to strike. Zeze waited until Durante was almost close enough to push his sword forward, Zeze ducked. Durante almost flew over it when the lizard shot up, jaws snapping and claws raking. Durante twirled in midair, dodging most of the attack and landed, sliding back, Force Edge extended.

What the hell... Why am I fighting like this? I'm being straightforward and careless, as an amateur...

Zeze turned, claws raking the floor, and charged at Durante, jaws apart and saliva flying. Durante lifted his sword to block, planting it between Zeze's jaws. The beast clenched its teeth on the blade, and pulled mightily, trying to send Durante flying. Durante resisted, muscles bulging. Zeze growled, trying to pull the sword. Durante snarled in response, and lifted a fist to slam into the lizard's grotesque face. He hit again and again, bloodying his knuckles.

Zeze's reptilian features twisted in pain and it let go, throwing its head away Durante pulled his fist away, and lifted his sword up, scratching Zeze's scales in the process again. Zeze's snout came in, and Durante swung down, intending to cleave the lizard in two. A claw snapped up, crashing against the sword and sending a rattle through Durante's arm. Another claw came up, smashing into Durante's middle.

He gasped from the force of the blow, but rolled around it, avoiding the sharper ends, and turned on one foot, slashing downwards. A claw blocked, and he pushed against it, but Zeze tossed the sword away. Durante slashed down again, and the beast caught the blade with its jaws. Durante pulled back, and two clawed fists rammed into his midsection. He gasped and spat, then punched the lizard on the head again, and pulled Force Edge out, scratching against the fangs. Grabbing the handle with both hands, he made a powerful downward swing, Force Edge rasping against the lizard's though skin, but still failing to cut it. Zeze roared and jumped over the blade, turning in midair for a powerful tail strike.

Durante flew out of the door, crashing in the building on the opposite side of the road. He fell to the ground with a thud, and immediately pushed himself to his feet. But in the middle of the movement, Zeze's claws already sunk into his shoulder. Blood spurted out, and Durante grunted angrily. His right arm became useless, the muscles torn. Force Edge fell from his unfeeling fingers, and Zeze proceeded to attack again, striking Durante in the chest. The claws sunk in, drawing blood. Durante gasped again.

Then Zeze dropped to the ground, crouching. Durante's left hand shot forward, balled into a fist, and smashed into Zeze's grotesque head. The reptile hissed loudly, tongue flicking. Durante stared in awe. The ground beneath the lizard shattered from the force of his punch, but the beast itself was completely unharmed.

“What the... what the hell is going on?” He rasped, coughing. “I've been slashing and punching you, but your scales are far too tough to be simple scales...”

Zeze laughed, a crunching noise erupting from his jaws. “Ah, that I am, Son of the Dark Knight. I am, as I said, first of the Bagan. We are a race of reptile demons. As for your question... figure it out on your own, you damned brat!”

With that final roar, Zeze's head snapped up, and his jaws began to close on Durante's face. Durante, meanwhile, stared.

What is his secret...? I know that he's placed layer after layer of demonic energy on his skin, but what is the secret to its toughness? Could it be that it has been done for so long that the skin is simply so tough?

Durante's thoughts turned in another direction.

But even if it so, then my abilities are not enough... all I've learned... He stopped himself. He ran the line through his mind again, and again, and suddenly it struck him. Of course he could not win. He'd forgotten his first lesson.

Zeze's jaws closed on empty air. The demon lizard gaped as a fist smashed into its stomach, lifting it above the ground. Durante turned and tossed it to the ground, away.

“You smell is disgusting, lizard. But more importantly, I ought to thank you. I have indeed forgotten the most basic law that guides me when I draw my sword...”

Invasion

Zeze jumped to its feet and hissed again, saliva slowly oozing form its jaws. “And what would that be, Son of the Dark Knight? What ability will you try now?”

“Ability?” Durante laughed coldly. “Not an ability... no... it is...” Force Edge slashed powerfully, slicing off Zeze's front left appendage. “Rage, infidel!” Durante whipped backwards, spinning madly. Force Edge slashed out, cutting a deep crimson line on Zeze's chest. The lizard responded by jumping away.

“You think that just because you've understood what you're doing wrong you can win?” The lizard's appearance changed. Suddenly it became reddish in colour. Sharp, black rocks, shaped like spikes, burst from its shoulders, neck, and crown of the head. It's stomach became white, and so did the lower sides of its forearms. Grasping a spike extending from its knee, it pulled out a gruesome looking axe, misshaped and terrible in appearance. It's base seemed to be made of a spine, the wooden handle covering only about half of it, and the head itself had many deep notches, and a skull embedded into it. Durante's eyes widened.

“I'm now at my strongest! I give up my defense to push everything into my offensive power... and...” the lost limb regrew at once, also red and white in colour. Durante snarled in disdain. He crouched forward, Force Edge trembling in his hand. Zeze opened its mouth, revealing four sharp, long tusks. Durante and Zeze charged in, axe meeting sword. Zeze snarled.

“Regenerative powers? How interesting! We are alike, you and I!”

“Do not liken me to garbage such as yourself, insignificant gnat,” Durante snarled in response, Force Edge slapping the great axe away. Zeze roared and chopped mightily down, the axe smashing against Force Edge with a ringing sound. Durante stepped in and slashed, the sword blurring from the speed of the strike.

Zeze stepped back, but not enough to completely dodge the strike. Force Edge scratched against the lizard's skin, sending sparks flying, but caused no real damage. Durante stared.

“Don't think that because I said I am sacrificing my powerful defense means you can harm me! I've become more powerful now, so you dull blade cannot cut me!”

Durante didn't answer, instead letting go of the handle with his right hand and stabbing in, trying to skewer the reptile. It dodged and moved in, the axe coming in hard at Durante's midsection. The blade smashed into his coat, and sent him reeling backwards.

“Why are we insignificant, Son of the Black Knight!? Why do you believe yourself superior to us? Do you think that your black blood makes you superior to us? Impudence!”

Force Edge rammed into Zeze's chest, sending the reptile flying away and drawing blood. It kicked itself directly from a building and charged in, axe coming in hard. Force Edge caught it in midair and Durante turned the blade subtly, changing the direction of the swing. He pivoted, following the path of the lizard, and grabbed it by the tail. With a mighty heave he turned, smashing it into the ground. He lifted Force Edge into the air, point down, and smashed it. The ground broke and dust rose from the force of the blow. Durante felt the impact and sighed.

“You are insignificant, reptile, because you are not a challenge for me. You cannot make me advance further towards the skies... where my goal awaits.”

The dust settled, and Durante's eyes widened. There was only a single splotch of blood on the ground where Zeze had been. His eyes darted, to the left, to the right, but there was nothing.

A spray of blood shot out, hitting the walls and the gray asphalt. Durante breathed in hard. He attacked in the last instant, reacting to an odd feeling that shot from above. His left hand was almost cut off, but held. Zeze, rolling away in a spray of blood, was in an even worse state. Its torso had been split open by Durante's mad swing, and several of its internals were lying on the ground, red dots in a gray sea.

Durante lowered Force Edge, and felt the skin closing on his restored muscles and flesh. The wound was severe even by his standards, but that wasn't what bothered him.

“Your speed. You weren't fighting me with your full speed until I stabbed through you. Why?”

Zeze rose, the skin closing on its chest. “I have also sinned in underestimating my opponent. I had thought your blade could never harm me. Yet I was wrong. Now... now I see. That is why you think us lower than yourself... because you believe you cannot be defeated, ever. But, I shall show you... why you should never... think your opponent to be lower than yourself!”

Suddenly the reptile vanished. Durante defended from the strike coming in from the left, and almost lost his footing from the force of the blow. Zeze somersaulted in the midair and landed, claws raking the ground. Instantly the reptile charged in, axe coming in with a mighty swing, jaws wide open and tongue lolling. Durante smashed Force Edge powerfully into the ground, burying it into the asphalt, and took the blow. The rattle that shot up his still weakened arm almost made him lose his grip. Zeze landed, sliding back, ripping pieces of the floor away.

Durante's eyes narrowed. The lizard was strong, physically superior to almost any demon he's faced until now. It was faster, more intelligent, and more suited to battle. It was...

Ignore the video

“A true challenge...” Durante whispered, a smirk appeared on his face. The demon blood in his awoke, and he felt the burning desire shoot through his limbs. The coat he wore became bluer in colour, become azure. Force Edge began to gently shiver, as energy coursed through Durante's body. Rage, true and uncontrollable, welled inside him. He ripped the sword from the ground, and grinning, swung it once. A gentle breeze whipped up the dust on the ground, and for a moment, both opponents stared at one another.

Durante, grinning, his mind filled with a single thought: kill. He lost all emotion, focused on nothing but fighting. On the other side stood Zeze, reddish and grunting, axe raised, its reptilian mind focused on the pray standing before it. Then, they charged again.

The axe came in from above, slashing diagonally, a strike to chop down a tree. Force Edge came in from the side, diverting it. Durante stepped forward, snapping the sword back, aiming for Zeze's neck. The lizard hissed and caught the blade with its jaws, yanking the axe back and slashing upwards. Durante caught its wrist and moved backwards, pulling it aside and throwing it around. Zeze slid backwards, and charged back in axe raised and the free claw poised to strike. Force Edge blurred, striking away both claw and weapon, but Zeze kicked, bending Durante down. He pushed the leg away, and charged in, swinging the sword. A red line of blood appeared on Zeze's chest, and Durante moved in, sword stabbing.

The tip slid off the lizard's skin, and the axe found its way through his defenses. But rather than feeling the sharp pain of wounds, Durante felt only a slight tap. He stared at Zeze, who suddenly crumbled down.

“What...?”

Zeze's empty eyes glared at him. “You've already defeated me... when you slashed me... I cannot regenerate internal organs, and what I have regenerated was but a front. But... you have not won. Your power... is not true. You are not truly strong... and you will never reach your target. The sky is not reachable... for you.”

The lizard went silent.

Durante sheathed his sword, but the words didn't stop echoing through his mind.

The sky is not reachable for me...?

He turned away. There was one person whom he could potentially speak to. Someone who would most likely know what has happened.

“Divali Susratov... Where have you vanished to, you sly snake?”

He decided to visit the docks, where he knew the yacht belonging to the mysterious nobleman would be docking. There he could find him.

As he walked, he couldn't stop hearing the same words echo over and over in his mind. His strength was not true strength? How could it be? He defeated the lizard...

“But I have not won.”

The realization was simple. He would have been defeated with that final strike, had the wound he caused earlier not been so deadly. The wound was a lucky strike he made. He could not rely on it happening again. Against Mundus... no, against even one of the group who entered Mallet Island, he could not rely on it. And thus, could not rely on defeating them.

“Then how can I win...?”

What was victory? What was the line separating “not losing” and “winning”? Where did the border pass?

Why are you even bothering with those questions so much, Durante? Ragna's voice was gentle and soft in his mind. You are too concerned of your goal. Let it hang in the back of your head, and strive towards it without even thinking about it. You cannot win if you seek victory, as you will rely on defeating your opponent.

“But is it not the same thing, Ragna?” Durante's voice was barely above a whisper.

It is not. Think of it, Durante... you can defeat your opponent by poisoning them, or destroying their weapon... but victory is achieving your goa, no matter the cost. You would usually survive defeating your enemy... but you would not always survive winning.

Durante's eyes closed.

Then they snapped open. He smelled the reeking scent of lizards not far, mingled in the salty wind of the sea. More of those Bagan creatures! Durante's palm glowed. Ragna was hungry, and not being used against Zeze made her even more annoyed than before. Durante did not stop her. He, too, wanted to sate the rage and hunger of his demonic blood. If they were even close to Zeze in skill and power, he would enjoy the battle immensely.

When he cleared a corner and the harbour came into view, he stopped. Over a hundred Bagan prowled the docking area. They varied in size and battle gear, some carrying axes, others swords or polearms. Some were dressed in battle armour, others walked around naked. Durante's eyes narrowed. So many...

Without true strength, you cannot defeat them. Ragna sounded pleased with herself. Now, shall we see if your training had not been in vain, Durante, darling?

Durante sighed.

“Learn how to properly speak to your master, Ragnaros."

He lifted the azure sword. This will be his next test, he decided. If he fell here, he would at least fall in honour. Or not, but it didn't matter. The battle with Zeze showed him that there was nothing more to it than that.

“I try, or I die.”

[FLASHBACK]
Durante snapped his sword up, the glinting blade slashing through the hard rock easily. The tower Divali introduced him to was a perfect training area, with plenty of demons skulking by. According to the man, it was an old research tower abandoned when the demons overrun the place. Apparently the scientists believed that they could control the demons much in the way Agnus did, but it didn't work. The demons turned out to be more intelligent and too powerful for the humans to control. Too late they realized that only demons could control demons.

The gate of the tower remained opened, though, and served as a focal point for quite a few lower-class demons and a few larger ones. One of those Durante intended to defeat before the end of the day, a great goat-demon that fed on, surprisingly, Hell Prides. But it didn't matter to Durante. He wanted to beat it, but even Azure Lightning hardly scratched the beast. So Durante retreated, and Ragna offered to teach him some of the techniques she's seen over the hundreds of years she was in Mallet Island.

For some reason, they all were Japanese names.

“Explain to me again, Ragna. How do I do it? I have never been able to call down lightning from the sky, much less control it.”

You don't get it. Ragna's silent voice was patient, as if explaining to a child. You are not calling any elements from anywhere. You are not an elemental manipulator. You are manifesting your demonic energy through your surroundings and magnify it through the energy that's surrounding everything. Basically you use your energy as an anchor to energy coming from the surroundings, and siphon it. Then you channel it through a conduit – me, for example – and use it to power yourself up. But if you can't control it properly, too great an energy surge will hurt you as well.

Durante scratched his head. It almost sounded as if he was leeching power from his surroundings to empower himself, but he also remembered that it only worked for specific techniques, and not for everything.

Exactly... it won't work for all intents and purposes. Anyway, you've already used a similar technique before.

Durante's eyebrows shot up.

Azure lightning, stupid. It's exactly the same. Except instead of trying to hold it, you've just violently released it. What I'm teaching you is the same, it just means you'll be gathering energy for a while before releasing it.

Durante's eyes narrowed. How did he do Azure Lightning...? He's never thought of it before. It was always so simple, to gather his energy and blast it out, taking out the opponents. But to do it consciously was different. So he tried. The energy came in easily enough, but he couldn't understand how to make it flow out. Ragna sighed.

I'll have to guide you through this...

Durante stared as the image of Ragna changed. She transformed into a canine, with glowing lines running through it. Durante stared.

This is my true form. These lines you see are the energy you send through me. The more you send, the brighter they become.

Durante collected his chin from the floor and shook his head. “I demand an explanation.”

Ragna sighed. I told you I am a collection of spirits of warriors and demons who died within Mallet Island. The most powerful of those was a mighty wolf lord, a demon who could alter between human and canine form. Thus, his form has become my primary transformation.

Durante suspected there was more to it, but he decided not to push. “All right. Let us begin.”

Ragna bowed her magnificent head and Durante began to gather energy. He felt her guiding touch, leading his energy easily into the sword. He opened his eyes and saw a mighty bolt of lightning erupt from beneath his feet, meeting another from the skies, and shooting a third to his sword. Ragna's glowing patches glowed brighter and brighter, and then Durante tried to channel the energy.

BA-BOOM

The deafening explosion deafened him and sent clouds of birds into the skies. When Durante's ears and head finally stopped ringing, he saw that his hand was fast regenerating, and the stinging on his chest hinted that he probably burned himself badly. He shook his head to clear the ringing and tried to get up. His legs, at least, held him well enough. He looked at himself carefully. The skin regenerated and his body felt fine, but he was still a little stunned. Looking around, he discovered a changed area. The grassy outcrop he stood on was gone, and only a sandy hole remained. The trees nearby were cracked and burned.

Durante couldn't believe the scale of destruction, but he was even more surprised at Ragna's sneer.

You call that power? I've witnessed weakling who could do ten times that! This is hardly your level, Durante!

Now becoming slightly angry, Durante tried again. Once more, the lines on Ragna's body glowed, and as they became bright bluish, Durante tried to manipulate the energy once again.

[/FLASHBACK]

Durante ripped Ragna's blue blade from the guts of the last Bagan, coughing. The blade was smeared crimson and notched in several places. All around him, destruction ruled, and the place was a wreck. Deep cuts were on every wall, and some on the ground. Durante hadn't spared anything. When he first charged, he managed to kill two Bagan easily, small and quick as they were. He suspected they were young and weak, and was proven right when several larger ones jumped in. Ragna deflected their axes and spears, but slowly Durante came to realize that if he wanted to win, he would have to accept, even welcome, some hits.

When the realization came to him, he let go. Let go of sanity, of restraint, of everything that was human. Demon power raged within him, and the power came easily. The first swing of his newfound power was powerful. They died by the score.

But there were more, an endless stream of enemies. So Durante charged in. His human intellect resurfaced, now directing his demonic strength. The power that surged through him was immense, and now he finally understood how to control it.

Unfortunately, that many enemies were still beyond his ability. He bled profusely from several deep gashes that closed slowly. Their sheer number was almost more than he could handle. He had to use several of his new abilities just to survive.

But it did not feel so empty anymore.

There was a reason behind it. A goal.

“That was very, very impressive, Durante.” Divali Susratov stepped from behind a corner. He smiled at Durante gently. “You've grown, Durante. You have learned much that you missed because of your arrogance.”

Durante did not move or reply, sensing that something was different now. Divali seemed almost feverish, and Durante faintly smelled the rancid smells of a demon coming from him. Divali approached, stumbling slightly.

“It is now time, Durante, my friend. I have been ordered to bring you to a power level that is fitting, and then bring your body to the Prince of Darkness... or should I name him, Emperor of Darkness, now?”

Treachery

Durante lifted Ragna, pointing it at Divali, and began to glow with a faint, azure aura. “You treacherous insect. You cheated and lied all this time?”

“Indeed, I have, Durante...” Divali smiled, drawing a serpentine, slender sword from the scabbard at his hip. “You cannot understand. Not even if I explained. Live – and die – knowing you were betrayed.” The sword shot forward, and Ragna slapped it away. But Divali was faster than Durante, and the sword quickly bit into his shoulder. The coat protected him, but the sheer speed of the strike warned him he couldn't underestimate his opponent.

“Why did you send the Bagan against me, then?” He asked, Ragna flowing in, catching three stabs, each aimed at a slightly lower location, as if it was a three-pronged spear. Durante stepped back, Ragna striking in, Divali defending frantically.

“They were your final test. The Bagan aren't all that powerful. But, they are excellent in large numbers... also, you realize that your uncle and father would have made short work on them, without the slightest injury? You were almost killed.”

The words, said with a small smile, made Durante even angrier. But he controlled himself, channeling his rage into strength. He attacked with quick, measured thrusts, making sure to keep the sword close enough to catch Divali's lightning-quick strikes. Sure enough, he caught five in the span of time it took him to swing once. Divali nodded.

“Now... let's see how you far against a slightly greater speed...” Suddenly his stabs and thrusts became twice as fast, Durante's eyes could just barely follow them. He blocked another three-pronged strike the sword sliding across Ragna. Durante balled a fist and attacked, missing Divali by a hair.

“You're hardly trying to kill me. I get the impression that you're just trying half-heartedly.”

Divali nodded. “True. You noticed it easily... because it is saddening to kill something you've nourished. Besides... you're not trying either.”

Durante smirked. “Good to see you've noticed, oily-haired bastard.”

Suddenly Ragna slashed so fast, Divali didn't even react. A line of blood erupted from his chest. The wound was shallow, but Divali knew this was becoming more serious - Durante was glowing azure once again. He turned and attacked again, the simple act of slashing the word sending a wind through the air. Divali dodged the second attack, backstepping, and sent a strike in.

Durante caught the blade in his hand.

“Fool... do you really think you could ever defeat me?” Durante glowed brighter and brighter, channeling more and more of his demonic energy out, intending to kill Divali with one attack. “For your betrayal, for your treachery, I hereby sentence you-”

He stared. Divali vanished. Everything around him stopped. Blue fires erupted in the corners of his field of vision, creating a large hexagram. A loud whining sounded from afar, and he could hear the sound of huge hooves on hard stone ground, as well as the sound of a chariot. Slowly, the creature came into view.

A horse.

Blue fire burned inside its skull, and burst from its nostrils and mouth. It stopped and whined, then stomped its hooves. Durante didn't ask for any questions. The intent of the horse was obvious.

“I don't know what's going on... but it doesn't matter. I will destroy you first, horse of demons!”

------------------------------------------------

A few notes regarding Bagan:

They are a race of lizard-like demons, mostly intelligent. They are mostly around the same level of strength as an Abyss, except few special ones that can be as strong as a Vanguard (Zeze, for example). Their true strength is in numbers.

How Durante beat them all? You'll have to wait until the next post to learn that.

No, he didn't elegantly walk through them all.

Also, boss fight.

[DarkSlayer]

That night had not been kind to Corte. He had only been able to sleep for two to three hours, and even those precious few hours were filled with nightmares and bad memories. Corte rolled over in his bed, sighing as he threw the blanket off to one side and sat upright, rubbing his face. The tiny room he had stayed in above the shop was pitch black, and the digital clock on the small table next to the bed read 4:23 AM. The sound of an owl hooting softly nearby and the chirping of a single cricket could be heard in the silence of the night. Corte rose to his feet and took Fallen Angel from the wall beside the bed, letting out a frustrated yawn.

The streets beyond the shop had been quiet that night. It was a nice change of pace. Corte yawned once more as he pushed the glass door of the shop open and walked out onto the sidewalk and leaned against the wall. A low fog had rolled in and covered the streets of Fortuna, making it difficult to see more than twenty or thirty feet in any direction. The cold pavement beneath his bare feet and back felt good, he thought as he leaned his head back against the wall, still holding Fallen Angel’s sheath in his left hand. He hadn’t bothered getting dressed into his uniform just yet. He was still wearing what he had gone to bed with—a pair of grey sweat pants.

His moment of comfort was cut short though, as the sound of several Hells breaking through the boundaries of Hell itself into the world like shattering glass echoed through the foggy streets. Corte didn’t even open his eyes. He knew they weren’t that close, judging by the muffled groans and scrapping of feet some twenty yards away or so.

”Let me guess…” Corte said calmly in the fog, his eyes still closed with his arms now folded over his bare chest. ”…You couldn’t sleep either?”. He was trying to get their attention before they could skulk off and wreak havoc on those who really were managing to sleep in these troubled times.

It worked. The scrapping sounds and groans became louder and louder, and soon the silhouettes of the Hells and their scythes could be seen, their red eyes glowing dimly through the fog. He could already tell it was going to be an interesting day, but he didn’t care. For all he knew, the end of the world could be right around the corner, but he wasn’t about to give up now. He had come so far and become so strong that he would fight it with every fiber of his being until he was nothing more than dust and ash.

An interesting day indeed.

As the Hells closed in, Corte opened his eyes to see how the odds stacked against him. There were multiple Prides, several Wraths, and two Sloths. The Sloth formed from a large cloud of dust, sniffed loudly with a hiss, and disappeared into a cloud of dust once more. Corte wasn’t worried about the Sloth. They were blind hunters, and fairly predictable. He leaned forward and stood upright, holding Fallen Angel’s sheath tightly in his left hand, watching the first Hell Pride approach, raising its scythe to strike. Without even thinking, Corte reacted. He dropped down to a crouch and spun in place with a sweeping kick, knocking the Pride’s feet out from beneath it. He quickly rose to his feet and planted his sheath into the Pride’s chest with a hard thrust down leaving him in an almost statuesque pose. The Pride was reduced to dust almost instantly, and its fellow Prides stumbled backwards, cowering in shock from their comrade’s swift demise.

Corte stood firm, both hands resting on the hilt of his blade. He gazed around at each of the demons that stood before him, sizing them up. It shouldn’t take more than a few minutes to put them out of their misery. They had become such a nuisance since he had gained his angelic powers, but he knew such trivial demons were nothing compared to what he would be facing within the next twenty four hours.

”What’s wrong? You weren’t so shy just a moment ago.” Corte grinned. He loved the look of fear in his enemies’ eyes. A howl followed by a sudden jolt several rows back revealed a Wrath, jumping over its cousins to strike at Corte. The demon soared over the small crowd, its tattered red cloth whipping through the air. Corte’s response to his attacker was just as prompt as the demon’s to his taunt. Corte quickly drew his blade from the erect sheath and slashed upward in the same motion, effectively deflecting the demon’s attack and cutting it in half, causing a shower of dust to rain down around him. Corte turned his back to the demons and slashed Fallen Angel down to one side, flicking the demon’s dusty remains from the blade. At the same time, he allowed his white feathered wings to form in a shower of light on his back, stretching them to their full length on either side, just to further intimidate his foes. The sounds of curious and worried groans behind him confirmed what he had hoped.

Corte turned to see the Hell Prides stumbling backwards even further, their scythes raised defensively. ”So then, who’s next?”

***

The sky was a deep pink and red as the sun began to peek over the horizon and through the buildings. The fog had long since thinned, and the last bit of dust from the Hells blew away as Corte stepped back out onto the sidewalk in full uniform. The sky was fairly clear with the exception of a few puffy white clouds here and there, starting what appeared to be a beautiful day. The sound a motorcycle in the distance caught Corte’s attention. He glanced down the street to see the bike headed towards them. He wouldn’t have been able to recognize the rider save for the large gun strapped to her back.

”Nice ride.” Corte said with a smile as he greeted Lady shortly after she had parked and killed the engine. She sighed back with a smile as she dismounted. ”Yeah, and this time Dante wont be taking it for a spin…"

”I’m…sorry?” Corte said, staring at her with a quizzical look about him.

”Never mind,” Lady said, shaking her head. “Let’s just say Dante owes me a new bike.” She smiled grimly back at Corte. He raised both eyebrows and nodded slowly, deciding not to pursue the matter. The awkward silence was broken by the sound of the garage door creaking to life. Zacheus ducked under the slow opening door and gave Lady a big hug. He turned to Corte and nodded.

”So! We waitin’ on anyone else?”

Not a second later, almost as if on cue, Father Regal and Judas appeared around the corner, walking side by side talking quietly to one another. As they neared, Father Regal waved casually to the others, and Judas simply nodded.

”Glad you could join us, Father.” Corte said with a bow to Regal.

”It’s good to see you again, Captain.” Regal replied with a warm smile, patting Corte on the shoulder. Corte glanced over at Judas with a subtle look of contempt. His jaw twitched as if to speak, but he decided against it.

”Judas.” Corte nodded quietly.

”Captain.” Judas replied smugly. His eyes were filled with as much contempt for Corte as the other. There was a long silence as the two glared at each other before Zacheus finally spoke up.

”Alright! If everyone’s here, let’s get things rollin’. The faster we get there, the faster we can come back.” Zacheus said loudly, raising his right hand and snapping his fingers above his head several times before helping Lady push her bike into the garage.

“Hey! Got room for one more?” A familiar voice called from the other end of the street. Nero was jogging up in his normal blue and red trench coat, carrying a rather long bag on his back. Everyone except Judas waved to Nero as he approached. Judas simply rolled his eyes.

”I didn’t know we were inviting the freak…” Judas addressed the group loud enough for Nero to hear him.

”Can it, Blondie.” Nero snapped. Judas looked pleased with himself as he walked around Nero, examining his jacket.

”I see you’ve fixed your jacket. Did the misses do that for you?” Judas snickered, edging him on.

”Thanks to you, asshole.” Nero growled in response, gritting his teeth and gripping the handle of the long bag firmly.

”Alright, alright. That’s enough. Both of you, let’s go.” Corte stepped between them, resting a hand on Nero’s shoulder. Both Nero and Judas glared at each other, Nero with a scowl and Judas with a smirk.

The ride to Devil May Cry was surprisingly smooth. They all caught a glimpse of the Temen-ni-gru before landing on the roof of the Devil May Cry. It was pretty hard to miss, what with the cloud of demons swirling about its considerable altitude. The sky itself was almost completely blotted out by the amount of demons awaiting their master’s command to send the world spiraling into darkness.

Dante had been waiting for them on the roof, while Trish was on the street slaying demons without mercy. An occasional bolt of lightning erupted from the streets below, but Dante assured the group that it was just Trish having a little ‘fun’.

[DarkSlayer]

The large ceiling fan creaked and squeaked softly as it spun overhead in the lobby of the Devil May Cry. Dante had asked the group to wait patiently for him while he stepped into the back to fetch something. Regal and Judas slowly strolled around the large room examining the trophies—the heads of powerful demons—that Dante had pinned to the walls using various blades. Zacheus had asked to see Nero’s gun, Blue Rose, and was turning it over in his hand in amazement while Nero watched with a grin. Corte half leaned, half sat on the corner of the pool table with his arms folded, resting his eyes with his head bowed.

After what felt like an eternity, Dante emerged from the back with a large box and placed it on his desk.

”Glad to see you’re all still here. Sorry to keep you waiting.” Dante chuckled, dusting off the box. All eyes were on Dante as he opened the old box and removed a peculiar object, placing it on the desk in front of the box. It was a large, dimly glowing orb, held in place by a large metal bowl.

”Now, as I’m sure you all know, I’ve been fighting and hunting demons for many years,” Dante started, glancing around the room at all of them as he carried on, ”and I think it’s high time I let someone else have some fun. That being said, I have here several items that I’d like to offer you.” Closing the box, Dante leaned over and waved his arm over the orb, causing it to glow much brighter as several colored essences emerged and floated just inches above the desk.

”For those of you who don’t already know, these are called ‘Devil Arms’. They are the manifestation of a demon’s soul into a rather powerful weapon.” He smiled as each of his guests slowly gathered around, listening intently.

The large double doors of the office blew open, revealing Trish. She stepped confidently into the lobby, running her long thin fingers through her silky blond hair. A small rocket zipped through the street behind her, causing a rather loud explosion off to one side followed by a rain of sand, cloth, and assorted broken scythes.

”Lady took over for me.” Trish shrugged, strolling towards Dante’s desk. Dante snickered, shaking his head with a grin. Zacheus stepped closer to the desk to get a better look at what Dante had offered them. Squatting down so that the essences were eye level with him, he stared in awe; they were unlike anything he had ever seen before. An icy blue, swirling red and teal, electric purple, silvery white, smoldering black, electric blue, fiery red, gunmetal grey, pitch black with tiny gold swirls, and prickly purple and red floated almost in unison, forming a rather straight line as if to present themselves.

”Now, each of you should know that the shape the devil arm takes is based on its master. They may respond differently to each of you.” Dante warned, pointing at each one of them as he spoke. Corte was the next person to make his way to the desk, staring down at the silvery essence in the middle. He raised left hand slowly and reached out for it, the silvery smoke licking the palm of his hand as he hesitated, glancing back up at Dante who was brandishing a rather large grin. The essence didn’t wait. The smoky vapor slipped along Corte’s arm and into his chest, causing a dull flash. Corte stumbled back for a moment, expecting to feel some sort of pain or discomfort, but instead he felt a rush of pure energy course through him. It subsided as quickly as it occurred, and the silvery vapor that had engulfed his body faded, leaving the rest of the group staring at him with wary eyes, not knowing what to expect.

Corte’s eyes darted between all of them, and then to his own person, examining himself for any physical changes. After concluding that there had been no apparent change, he turned back to Dante with an eyebrow raised, giving him a sideways look. Dante only shrugged with a grin. Corte then turned to Trish, who simply winked at him with a smile.

”Well then…that wasn’t so bad, right?” Zacheus stared curiously at Corte, shrugging slightly. Corte nodded back slowly as the silvery vapor returned, engulfing his body entirely. His body flashed dimly once more, and Corte’s eyes went completely white as he slumped down onto his knees.

”Corte? Corte?! What the hell did you do to him?!" Zacheus cried angrily at Dante.

”Whoa, whoa, calm down man, he’ll be fine,” Dante waved dismissively at Zacheus. ”If I’m not mistaken, your friend chose Beowulf—a rather nasty guy. There’s a good chance that Beowulf’s soul has challenged its new master.” Dante said, scratching his cheek nonchalantly. ”Not all of these devil arms are going to just lie down and accept you as their master. I’m sure they’ll have some sort of test for you. Hell, I had to kill them all before they gave me their power.” Dante finished, picking at his ear with his pinky finger, half paying attention.



Corte’s head throbbed as he rolled over, groaning. He slowly opened his eyes and sat up, staring hard at the dark room around him. Two feet on either side were bubbling pools of molten liquid with steam rising over every inch. The only thing standing between him and the pool of liquid on either side was a tall set of bars, almost like a prison cell. The two walls began at the stone wall behind him, and led to a large dimly lit opening with similar, smaller pools lining the edges. In the center stood a rather tall, ominous looking being with a single glowing red eye on one side of its head, staring down at him. A large hole in the ceiling allowed a single ray of light to shine down, illuminating the room just enough for Corte to make out the corners of the room.

”That scent…” The being growled, lumbering into the light from the darkness. It was a large great beast, with scaly feet like a bird and paws like a large cat. Both hands and feet were lined with stripes of energy that rippled with light, surging and flowing in the same direction. Behind it were several lumps, allowing with a stripped tail that whipped about sporadically.

”I will KILL YOU!” The beast cried, throwing its head and arms back and puffing its chest forward, releasing a surge of energy that rippled across the entire room.

Corte rose to his feet and raised an arm to shield his eyes, lowering it slowly afterwards with a scowl. He had no idea where he was, how he got there, or how to escape. To make matters worse, his only company intended to take his life.

”Interesting.” Corte replied, dusting himself off. ”But I doubt it.” he sighed, taking a defensive stance with his right hand resting on the hilt of Fallen Angel.

[Kendaric]

Vadaria looked up as the air around her began to spiral, the scent of lavender tickling her nose. She smiled as her eyes met Kendaric's, though hundreds of feet above her she could tell he was about to pull an enjoyable stunt. "I see... so your going to help them rebuild..." she said to herself as she tapped into his thoughts. She watched as Kendaric kicked of to his right and spun his body in a tight spiral that hurled him around the accursed tower.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kendaric smirked as he began his spiraled decent. "Lets make things interesting for ourselves. I've grown tired of these crumbling walls and mediocre demons." he said softly his hands moved into ancient hands seals moving so fast that even Vadaria missed all but the first and the last. "From death I grant you new life..." he whispered as he reached the last hand seal and held it. thousands of souls erupted around him following his spiral, and for every pass he made around the tower a section of it shown like new. He twisted his body in and out as he swirled around in between the demonic souls he had summoned. His robes flapped around him wildly in the rushing wind as he shot around like some kind of crazed missile.

Seven times he spun and seven times he circled the tower before finally being satisfied with his work. Seven layers of ancient souls now clouded the mid levels of the demonic tower, a cloud of souls that were as old as the tower its self. Kendaric stopped his spin suddenly bending backwards towards the ground and began his freefall once more. From the distance he could see Devil May Cry and he laughed aloud as they prepared for the battered tower. Perhaps they will enjoy what he has done... for if they survive it will make them stronger... much stronger. but should they fail... "Let us hope they do not die in this section of the tower..." he laughed lightly his eyes flickering crimson. The spire now held both old and new demons, even as he fell he could feel the familiar powers of demons past slain coming to life in the middle levels and he shivered with the thought of fighting old enemies again.

He flipped effortlessly and landed with a slight bounce to his step next to Vadaria. "Our journey will be a bit more to my liking I think love..." he snickered like a small child plotting a dirty prank.

She shook her head lightly her mild curls bouncing in tune to the sound of his walk. "You are quiet the devious one tonight." she said softly. "But I think you over did it a bit... some of those souls are not meant for this place." she sighed heavily looking to the tower windows.

Kendaric followed her gaze and smiled "Ah you mean those two... no no love they are not of my doing they are from the Island and will prove most interesting I think... perhaps you and the lady could have a little spar before our other party members destroy her?" he said in a velvety tone as he tried to raise the fire in her.

She looked at him confused. "I dont know what your seeing but those demons are from our home and should not be there..." she pointed to where she was looking, a pair of Wraiths dances between the souls.


The Wraiths...

Kendaric followed her fingers to discover what it is she meant when his eyes caught sight of them swirling between the the cloud of souls. "Not mine love but hers... look at the stones..." he hinted in the direction of the circular stones they both carried. "She seems to be checking in on us... perhaps we should say hello?" he asked curiously his body already phasing into the wind.

"Hai, let us greet them." she answered quietly and took his hand.

The wraiths moved about the souls surveying what was going on and searching for something amongst this floating sea of death. They paused as two dark figure appeared in the distance along the towers wall. Atop an ivory gargoyle Kendaric and Vadaria stood gently their eyes transfixed on the wraiths every movement. She spoke before he could her voice light and musical as she called to them. "Your search may end here with us." her left hand rose and beckoned them closer. Kendaric watched them as they moved closer, their every movement was purposeful as if still searching, and he smirked. "You may stop your search... I can promise you that their are no souls here worthy of her army... I would not dare to bring out such beasts in a place like this, nor would I willingly give them to your Goddess." His voice was so low that Vadaria was caught off guard and turned to look at his face. His eyes were their natural lavender but his features were hard and chiseled, his fangs extended. This was not his inner soul but himself that was angered, as if betrayed or mistrusted Kendaric flared with his own fire.

The souls around them pushed away as if trying to escape a second death. Vadaria realized then that these were not the souls taken by his inner demon but by himself. The stone held by the wraiths began to glow and a familiar female voice echoed around them. "So you admit to willingly hiding what I seek from me? Interesting indeed... But you will slip up eventually little minion, and when you do I will be there to strike you down."

"Minion? You forget of whom you speak. It is not I who is afraid but you. I will not give you the things you seek, you will not control them anymore then I do. Now begone we have a mission to finish, and have no need for babysitters." Kendaric's velvet voice rose to a harsh tone.

"Watch your tongue... you forget who grants you your life, but very well you are correct you do have a mission to finish... and your time is running out." The voice faded and the wraiths vanished.

Kendaric phased out and reappeared on the entrance roof, his eyes shut and mind closed to the world. He stood like a statue long since forgotten by the world around him. Vadaria appeared next to him, her presence was calming but did not stop him from growling softly. "Ill explain things later love..." were his only words to the silent question she held in her eyes.

[Ymir'sEmbrace]

Corte lay on the ground now, placed in a more comfortable position by Zacheus and Armando. The priest took one last, long look at the child, his internal senses telling him that life yet resided in that soulless body. It seemed that the metaphysical fight for control of a new soul was more than just some imaginary fight in one’s mind. One’s very soul would be torn from this plane into an existence of the Devil Arm’s choosing, a power that apparently manifested after long years of dormancy. Armando took another good look at the demon that was said to be the greatest in all existence, a man that had sealed a god and surpassed another. Though he wanted to like the man, all he could see was a lazy bum that disregarded the fates of others for his own personal pleasure.

Armando wanted to reprimand him, to see what his true intentions were for sending in inexperienced fighters to end a war that none of them started. But he couldn’t. His attention was drawn to something entirely different. One of the vortices of power swirled with an orange fervor and a teal gasp, constantly at conflict with one another attempting to share the same space. He wasn’t sure if it was simple curiosity of something that reminded him of his own situation, or if it was some other force entirely. He didn’t quite care at this point. Judas and Zacheus looked at the powers assembled in quiet contemplation, no, perhaps in fear. He would have to make the first move.

“I believe that I shall be next.” Armando reached down to the fighting soul, ready to accept whatever trial awaited him. He felt sorry for Corte. The man was caught unaware against a dangerous foe. Would Armando also face an enemy greater than himself? The energies seemed to stop their endless assault as he reached down to it, his eyes closed and his hand placed down in a small prayer. The closer his hand was to the energy the more the two seemed to work in tandem to reach out to him. They suddenly seemed to come to an agreement and the three spirits connected. As Armando felt the energy overwhelm his senses he could hear Dante make one last remark.

“Buenos suerte Padre.” Armando knew for sure now, he wasn’t going to like this Dante fellow one bit.

* * *

“Buenos suerte Padre.” Dante gave a small salute as Armando fell to the ground, his face a toothy grin. Armando wouldn’t like Dante that much it seemed. Neither do you. Judas stopped immediately. That wasn’t his voice in his head, nor was it his thoughts. That’s right. I saw you and decided I would do your choosing for you. He looked at the orbs that swirled in an endless display of odd patterns, almost as if they were asking for someone to choose them and give them purpose once more. Judas waited a second, expecting another response from the mysterious voice in his head.

No need to wait for me handsome, I’m just along for the ride. Now do me a favor and come here and give me a nice, hard, grope. She somehow simulated a slight gasp of ecstasy in his mind, something that disturbed him much more than he would have liked. I take it you’ll tell me which one of the energies you are? He was tired of this game, he would simply do as she told him. Oh you will? In that case I’m the taunting purple one right over there. Go see if you like what I have to offer. She’d taken his bait, and he liked that she knew his plan the moment he allowed himself to actually think it. She made a slight pout, aware of his deceit. Judas couldn’t help but grin. He would be next.

He walked over to the ornate bowl that housed the energies that sprung to life as he approached. One was glazed over in darkness, almost a direct mirror of himself. Yes, it seemed it would do nicely. He reached out his delicate fingers, ready to accept its power. That’s when his plan fell apart. The thundering orb shot out towards his hand, roughly brushing against his fingers as she was absorbed into him. Careful handsome, you need to treat a lady like a gentleman. Judas did a double-take. He looked down at his hand, the slight tingle of electricity still lingering on his touch. ”You can’t be serious.”

”Ohhh, bad luck there. Once Nevan finds someone she likes….well….she gets a bit clingy.”Dante picked at the stubble on his chin. ”Took Trish ages to finally get her over me. I didn’t think women could fight that hard over one man, but hey, it is me they were fighting over.” Judas didn’t bother to truly listen as Dante rambled on. He could feel the power building inside him, reaching over each fiber of his figure….was the demon set free in his body feeling him up?

Don’t worry handsome, I chose you for a reason. Judas lost consciousness, somewhere disconnecting from his body as he seemed to watch it fall to the floor. Darkness surrounded him until he realized he could open his eyes. Taking careful notice of his surroundings he realized he was in a vacuous cavern, stalagmites and stalactites forming unearthly patterns. He stood on a relatively flat basin, carved out by hand, ahead of him was a stage set up in an over-dramatic fashion. He could hear running water and then suddenly lights flashed to life at the top of the stage. A single red curtain was draped exquisitely along the stone basin; it quickly parted leaving the back of the stage in a billowing wall of cloth that bunched together in almost provocative form. She stood there, staring at her prize. Her deep red hair draped down to just the tops of her nipples, her bare chest proudly puffed out. She wore a half-gown of black silk that seemed to let off sparks with each step she took along the stage. With a little giggle she leaned far backwards, her hair lifting ever so slowly to reveal her ample breasts that seemed to defy gravity. ”It’s been far too long since I had someone as cute as you to play with.” She leaned forward again, this time covering her breasts with her pale arms in a defensive curl. Her lips pouted. ”Dante just doesn’t seem to want to play with me anymore now that he has that old hag.” Judas turned his back to her; he found women that tried too hard a bit sad.

Nevan didn’t seem to like that one bit. She stood up straight from her innocent pose that was marred by her obvious attire. She let one long leg step out from beneath the dark dress, a single pale white leg strapped to a long-heeled shoe. With that one step she disappeared into the dress, which travelled as a single shadow up to Judas’s back. He was aware that she was right behind him, but she still managed to catch him off-guard. She put one long arm around his waist, the other draped dangerously over his shoulder. Her legs worked their way around his side, allowing him to feel each silky curve of her slender skin. Her cold breasts were pressed flat against the square of his back. ”You think you have a chance at overcoming me, little boy? I’ll show you why even the Son of Sparda had to send his bitch to deal with me.” The pleasantries were over. With a single spin her dress showed its true form, thousands of shadowy bats that seemed to converge around her. Judas didn’t have time to dodge from her spin to escape what seemed to be an electric blade made out of the thunder bats.

Judas took the attack square in his back, sending him flying away to the far end of the cavern. Nevan teleported back to the stage, her bat dress towering even taller than her. She let out another giggle and with an erotic moan she puckered her full lips and let out a single kiss. Judas stood up from the attack, realizing he was no longer in the clothes he was wearing before he had entered this battle ground. He didn’t mind, the white suit was a part of him after all. His hand reached down to the jet black tie, letting a single finger loosen the noose around his neck. ”Listen, I have no time to play with you, become my weapon and I’ll save you the humiliation of being brought to my control by force.” Nevan laughed at him, this time loud enough to shake the cave itself. Judas finished releasing the whip with a slick tug that caused the entirety of the black mass to his arm where it began to hum with a soft energy.

”A bit of foreplay before we really have fun?” Judas simply coiled his whip back and shot it straight out at her. The tip just barely reached the bats, sending a few off into the sky where they disappeared into small bolts of electricity. ”Hmmm….at least you know how to handle it properly.” Nevan leaned back, her hand resting on the shapely form of her thigh. ”We’ll see what I’m handling by the end of this fight.” Judas was beginning to enjoy this fight, even if he was disgusted by the woman in front of him. He struck the whip back as he dashed towards Nevan, a wave of electric bats shot out from the confines of her dress straight at him.