Dante walked past each elf, his presence alone in their eyes , shattered the bindings that held them. With every step, the metal chains and ropes creaked, then shattered at their wrists and ankles, freeing them one by one. He moved with the ease of someone untouchable, unaffected by the lingering scent and horrid sight of blood in the room that still clung to the room.
Upon reaching the far end of the chamber, he paused, his eyes settling on a particular figure. A young half-elf girl, broken and bruised, lay before him. The system had flagged her presence even before his own eyes caught sight of her, and now, seeing her in person, he understood why.
Her bruises hid a truly beautiful face and despite the cruel abuse inflicted upon her—a body riddled with bruises, dark red eyes that still burned with defiance, paired with long crimson hair, blending into a brunet and at times a darker red and at times brown like colour, her eyes slanted while her face round and beautiful. She looked to be around her late teens, her battered form a explained all the torment she had endured, her form was also skinny, or rather malnourished. Dante could easily tell, she seemed to be the one who had suffered the most physical abuse, yet her eyes. Her eyes unlike the rest of the captives were directly looking into his, measuring him in clear curiously, yet no fear.
A chuckle escaped Dante's lips as his eyes skimmed over the appraisal details that materialized before him:
[Name: Vexion]
[Age: 17 Years Old]
[Origin: Sandrian Empire]
[Race: Half-elf (Born from a combination of a half-demon, half-elf mother and a half-beast kin, half-human father)]
[Moral Alignment: Evil, Heinous, Destructive]
Legendary Skill (Sealed) – "Malevolent Reign"
An oppressive force that bends the battlefield to the user's will, suffocating the weak and overpowering the strong.
Abilities:
Tyrant's Decree (Passive/Active): The user exerts a terrifying presence, causing weaker foes to tremble, hesitate, and falter under sheer mental and physical pressure. If activated, this force manifests physically, slamming enemies to their knees and locking their movements, like an invisible hand that pressured with dominance . Those with weaker minds and bodies cannot resist and are completely suppressed. Stronger foes can resist but are still slowed. Sovereign's Wrath (Active): When the user inflicts pain, they absorb a fraction of it as raw power, if the pain and fear reach a certain threshold, they can permanently grant boost in speed, strength, and reflexes to the user. The user can summon a powerful force that can "push" or "pull" targets and even inanimate object with ridiculous speed force. The more they suffer, the more easily they can be thrown, crushed, or dragged into range and the higher the physical stats of the user increase.
Weaknesses: Strong-willed foes can resist the mind-affecting aspects, and those with high endurance can mitigate pain.
Epic Skill – "Dreadstep"
A movement-based nightmare that turns every step into a battlefield trap.
Abilities:
Phantom Dread (Passive/Active): Every movement leaves behind a semi-transparent afterimage that lingers, confusing enemies on where the real body is. Simultaneously, the user exerts a chilling presence, subtly interfering with enemy perception and reaction time. The faster the movement, the more disturbing the effect becomes, overwhelming weak minds with fear and hesitation. Dreadstep Distortion (Active): Every step distorts space slightly, making ranged attacks veer off-course and melee attacks misjudge distance. When moving near an opponent, they feel an unnatural "pull," making it harder for them to create distance. If they resist, they experience a slight sense of vertigo or unease, making their footwork unstable. If used aggressively, this "pull" can be intensified—dragging the enemy off balance or directly toward the user's attack. Weaknesses: Those who rely purely on instinct or non-visual senses like pure instinct are unaffected by the illusions and space distortion.
'hehehe... It seems there's no need for me to visit the slave market after all,' Dante murmured, amusement flashing across his face.
Vexion's swollen, bruised face twitched as she attempted to comprehend his words. Her crimson eyes, despite the pain, widened slightly as she took in the strange, almost unreal boy standing before her. His white hair framed a face that was almost too beautiful to be real. Deep blue crystal-like eyes bore into her, and his pristine martial robes, adorned with embedded gemstones, made him look otherworldly.
She tried to speak, but her swollen jaw prevented it. Even if she could, what would she say? She had no idea why this boy—this unfathomable force—was staring at her. For experimentation? For amusement?
Dante crouched down, his gaze locked onto hers. "Little girl, become my subordinate— no, my slave."
Vexion barely processed the words before warmth spread through her body. She flinched as his hand touched her cheek, but the sensation was not painful.
It was soothing.
A calming force spread throughout her mind and body, numbing her pain and rapidly healing all the damage she had suffered. The bruises faded as if they had never been there. Her broken flesh knitted itself back together. Even her exhaustion ebbed away, replaced by an unfamiliar sensation—comfort.
For the first time in years, she felt warmth and something resembling care.
Instinctively, her trembling fingers reached out for more, as Dante pulled away, standing with a smile. His hand lifted toward her tattered robe, and with a mere thought, his telekinetic mastery activated. A strange, dreamlike energy filled the air, mana so pure it went far beyond the understanding of those in the room.
The robe in her grasp twisted and reshaped itself at a fundamental level. Threads realigned, fabric restructured, and before her eyes, the garment returned to what it once was—a fine, brown-golden robe, free of filth and ruin.
Dante, after doing this, felt a pang of pain, thrumming in his hands. 'Overuse? or is it because I never use this ability much, whatever its not to much its fine. I'm learning the weaknesses the ability more so this is good'
He handed it to her, and without thinking, she grasped it, covering herself before standing with his help. Her breath hitched as she met his gaze again. There was no cruelty, no expectation—just a quiet amusement that made her heart quicken, a strange emotion stirring within her hardened soul.
Dante turned away, his hands casually slipping into his pockets as he walked forward. His eyes landed on the so-called "pure elves" in the room, and he exhaled a thoughtful hum.
"Hmmm."
Dante observed the beautiful dark elf ahead of him, deep in thought. She was already surrounded by her freed people, carefully handing out healing pills to each of the seven or so elves. The pills were undoubtedly expensive, but for her people, she considered it a small price to pay.
He shook his head, not out of concern for the resources she was wasting, but rather because of what he muttered under his breath in mild disgust. "Goody-two-shoes."
She had yet to realize the true issue at hand. How did she plan to escape with all these elves? How did she intend to hide them? Did she not think ahead at all? Dante had already shattered her concealment item, rendering her previous means of secrecy useless. And yet, there she stood, staring at him. Was she expecting his help?
[She seems to be hoping to rely on Master's help.]
A slow grin spread across his face. 'Oh, I see…. this is fine. I'll help them for now. But the debt must be repaid. If she cheats me, I'll wipe out your entire fucking family.'
"hehe it's fine. I had intended to use her, so she can use me as well. Besides..." Dante turned his gaze to the girl standing silently behind him. Vexion, though aware of his attention, made no reaction, simply waiting. "I'm in a good mood. I wanted a powerful subordinate skilled in espionage, but she's more than that. No, she's fucking fantastic. You really did well, System."
[Thank you, Master. It was my pleasure.]
Dante's musings were interrupted when a pure elf spoke up, her tone questioning, almost indignant. "Excuse me, my lord, may I ask why you have not freed us yet?"
A few of the other pure elves stirred at the question, their thoughts aligning with hers.
The dark elves—the impure breed—had been freed, yet they remained shackled. Worse, the half-blood abomination, the one rumored to be born of a half-demon and a half-beastkind, stood completely healed at his side. How was this fair?
Dante's brow arched as his youthful face twisted into irritation. Before he could speak, another elf quickly intervened. "My lord, please forgive her. She is still young. If she has offended you, please accept our deepest apologies. What she meant to ask was... if my lord has no objections, would you grant us freedom as well?"
Dante studied the second elf. 'She's smart.'
And indeed, the 2nd elf woman—who appeared to be in her late twenties—could not understand how her older companion could be so reckless. She stole a sideways glance at her fellow elf, cursing her foolishness internally.
'Idiot! Did she not see what just happened? Does she not see Xavier, still paralyzed in fear, unable to speak? The very same man who terrorized us for weeks and months was reduced to nothing in front of this young lord! I may not be strong, but I can tell—this man wields power, great power. And yet, she dares question him? Does she have a death wish? Can she not see that, for whatever reason, the half-blood is favored by him? If you want to die, die alone!'
In fact, Her silent curses proved prophetic.
Dante tilted his head, considering her words he nodded. "Hmm. Sure. But she must still die."
A concentrated sphere of energy materialized in front of the first elf's forehead. The moment it made contact; it entered her skull—and then detonated inside.
There was no scream.
No final words.
The upper half of her head simply blew up and with a burst was burst apart. Her body lurched forward, kept from collapsing only by the chains binding her wrists.
Vexion stood on the side, unseen by Dante, at the horrid death of the elf who had insulted her, a quiet pleased grin appeared briefly before she wiped it off and looked at the young boy before her with increasing curiosity.
'So, he kills with no reason? Hehehe, how interesting"
Dante, already losing interest, turned to walk away. Vexion followed close behind, maintaining a short but deliberate distance. As he passed the remaining elves, their chains groaned and then, by an unseen force, shattered.
But none of the freed elves cheered.
They barely had the strength to stand, let alone rejoice. And so, without a word, they lifted their aching bodies and stumbled after their new saviour, understanding— that they didn't really have a choice but to rely on him.