The atmosphere around Dante was suffocating for everyone present, except for Vlad, of course. Dante kept his gaze fixed on the two vampire counts, Elijah and Klaus, conveying the same courtesy they had shown him, as if gravity itself was responding to his will.
They were kneeling on the floor, struggling to maintain control over their bodies, but the pressure emanating from Dante kept them on the verge of collapse.
"Ah~... Why always so foolish..." The whispering voice of the man beside the King echoed through the hall. It was worth noting that, well... Dante was just a male Valentina... And with that, the habits came along... Now...
Well, there were two vampire counts almost falling to the lower floor of the castle just from Dante's pressure, which, well... Wasn't exactly gentle.
The pressure, Dante's aura, wasn't something easily described. It was forged by a combination of his mental strength and a deep, dark understanding of death. It wasn't just a threat; it was a manifestation of his bloodlust, an insatiable hunger that surpassed even that of the Vampire King himself.
For someone like Dante, death wasn't a mystery to be feared but a reality he understood and mastered with expertise.
Dante wasn't a common vampire. He was a Reincarnated, a being whose soul had transcended the limitations of a single life. In a previous existence, he had been an Overlord, a Supreme Ruler, someone for whom lives were mere tools, insignificant and disposable. This dark past shaped Dante's essence, making him more cruel and ruthless than anyone could imagine.
Elijah and Klaus, the two vampire counts, were now at the mercy of this overwhelming pressure. Their bodies trembled, their weak knees almost giving in to the invisible weight that held them to the ground. Dante's gaze, cold and penetrating, showed no sign of compassion or pity. He had decided they should suffer, and so they would.
"S-s-stop," Elijah tried to speak, but his voice was choked by the pressure. Klaus, on the other hand, was already nearly unconscious, his eyes rolling back as he desperately tried to resist the force that was subduing them. Terror was written on their faces, the understanding that they were facing something far beyond their ability to confront.
Dante continued with a mischievous smile on his lips, his gaze sparkling with cold malice. "Did you really think you could face me like this? You should know it's dangerous to show hostility in my presence." His words were like sharp blades, cutting through the counts' pride and feeding the fear in their hearts. "It's a shame I can't just kill you, but know that your arrogance will be remembered...
little bats."
The pressure Dante exerted on them eased slightly, allowing Elijah and Klaus to breathe, but the relief was only momentary. He sighed, impatience clear in his voice. "So boring." Pouring out his frustration with almost casual disdain, he added, "Seriously, old man, wipe these two worms out for me.
In ten years, I could train an army of beings stronger than them." He shrugged, completely indifferent to the impact his words and actions had on everyone around him. To Dante, this was just another annoyance in an ordinary day.
Unconcerned with the reactions around him, Dante slowly turned, his gaze sweeping the room in all directions. His vision seemed to penetrate every corner, his perception exceeding normal limits. "Vampire assassins on the ceiling?
Vlad watched Dante for a moment before speaking. "Have the girls told you everything?" he asked, as from the blood flowing from his own veins, a throne formed, solid and majestic. The sight of this dark creation made Dante smile, and, in response, he summoned his own throne, made of intertwined bones and skulls.
'Even your creations resemble Valentina's...' Vlad thought, seeing how he created things much like Valentina did through magic.
Dante nodded, his expression becoming more serious. "Yes, I partially understand the problem. Thank you for continuing to search for who did that, even after my failure and death," he said, his words carrying a rare sincerity that Dante did not usually use.
Although Dante knew Vlad always had his own interests in mind, he also knew there was a certain loyalty in their relationship, at least a kind of camaraderie? He wasn't quite sure how to handle this situation.
"Now, let's be honest here... What are you really planning? I'm sure this whole problem with the Vampire Counts is just an excuse," he said, his voice firm, leaving no room for evasions.
Vlad remained silent for a few seconds, the weight of his words manifesting on his face, until he finally sighed. "Currently, I could say that everything is under control, but as I mentioned before, it seems this world is on the brink of decline. I don't know who or what is trying to cause this destruction, but...
I assume it will all end soon." His voice, usually firm, carried a note of genuine concern.
With a nod, Vlad indicated to Nosferatu, who approached and took out a sphere, placing it in the center between the two thrones. As the sphere touched the surface, a magical vision began to form, projecting vivid images in the air between Dante and Vlad.
Dante watched intently as the vision unfolded. It was Vlad, facing a colossal dragon in a fierce battle. The sky around them was dark, tinged red and orange by the dragon's fire, while Vlad attacked with brutal force, each blow resonating like thunder. The vision was impressive, but half of Vlad's body was bitten by the enormous Black Dragon, which was truly enraged...
"What exactly is this?" Dante asked.
"One of Tiamat's Heads," he replied.
"Wait... they are..."
"It split into five smaller dragons," he revealed, and with regret, he stood up and showed part of his abdomen, revealing a huge bite that had never healed...
Dante stared at the wound for a few seconds... Vlad was a Vampire progenitor... He... wasn't supposed to suffer any damage to his body... which means... "Did it attack your soul?" Dante asked, and Vlad...
"I am dying."