The elves all looked on with utter terror, and utter despair. Their eyes reflected a hopelessness so immense one could sense it throughout the room. Ollie, trembling, managed to say, "M-, m-, y l-lord, I—I too w-wish to f-fight against your sub-subordinate…" His voice cracked under the weight of fear and awe.
Dante nodded in satisfaction as he surveyed the aftermath—the shattered remnants of Phillip's dignity painted in despair on his half-broken slowly dying body.
'Hmm indeed, this one is a masterpiece'
With an air of nonchalance, he turned his back on the quivering crowd. For reasons unknown, the elves had noticed that his hands had never left his sides, and a content, almost smug smile played upon his lips.
A woman—a lover of Phillip—stood in silent shock at the periphery, her tear-streaked face read of unbearable grief as she watched the blood of her lost love pool onto the cold stone floor. Meanwhile, Dante's gaze shifted from Ollie and Gaven to Vexion, who was watching the carnage with wide, unblinking eyes. He couldn't help but note how utterly captivated she was by the sight of the defeated, lifeless expressions on the fallen nobles. He had long killed Xavier and the two guards, he threw them…. Ehm …. somewhere in the room, At this moment , his attention remained fixed on Vexion's gaze, as if she were studying a masterful work of art.
She could not tear her eyes away, even as Ollie and Gaven looked to her as though she were their final hope—a beacon amid the ruin. Though irritated by the fact they took fighting her as a gift of mercy and looked at her as if she were the savior, Vexion was still undeniably impressed, awed by her master's ability to evoke such overwhelming fear and despair with barely a hint of physical exertion. In her eyes, this display of raw power was as beautiful as it was terrible.
Rising into the air with a casual ease, Dante scanned the mass of terrified nobles below, silently pondering the murmurs from Ollie and Gaven.
After all, these once proud viscounts, barons, and governors had stepped out of the den of a lion only to find themselves in the lair of a blood-soaked wolf. If they believed Vexion—or, by their eyes, their current "protector"—could be merciful, they were sorely mistaken.
Mercy isn't in my nature, but neither was it hers, maybe I can use this opportunity to seewhy the system gave her a moral alignment of evil, we could be two peas in a pod he mused. The bitch is crazy that's for sure—but she hasn't yet had the chance to show it.
Hovering high above the trembling crowd, Dante's voice rang out, calm yet eerily joyful:
"There are 13 of you left. Some of you are simply too weak to be of any use in training my subordinate. I'll give you the option of ending your own miserable lives—since I'm feeling quite happy at the moment. This revenge did me good , as they say its indeed good to take a walk when your stressed"
A heavy silence fell. The nobles stared upward in disbelief, their expressions growing further into disbelief, horror and despair. They simply couldn't fathom that such a person, no monster could exist— whose cruelty and power defied everything they thought they knew.
Dante's lips curled into a humble chuckle as he added, feeling like their looks were of gratitude hidden under fear, he patted himself in the back with a gentle smile.
"You're all welcome—I know, I know, I'm quite kind."
The silence was absolute. All their thoughts unified in one simple thought
'How shameless was this young man, In what way was everything he did kind? '
........
Below, Vexion's gaze slowly swept across the remaining elves. Their faces were pale.
Some trembled and some stared blankly at the floor. A few looked toward her with a few just looking toward her master. Not with hatred anymore not even with anger Vexion didn't even see what she knew to be fear. They looked at him as if their lives were already over and this confused her. Vexion tilted her head slightly some what confused.
Why?
She genuinely did not understand, The dead bodies made sense the broken bones also made sense and blood made sense.
If someone was stronger than you, they could kill you that was the law or rather the way of the world. That was normal and it was reality.
Yet these elves...
Most of them were still alive.
They could still move.
They could still speak.
They could still fight.
So why did they already look dead?
Her eyes drifted toward Phillip's ruined body.
The archduke's legs bent at grotesque angles.
Blood spread slowly beneath him.
His breathing was shallow, he was dying painfully, desperate.
A miserable sight.
Yet Vexion found herself paying little attention to him.
Instead, her eyes returned to Dante.
The young boy sat atop the chandelier with his hands in his pockets.
Relaxed and calm.
Almost bored.
As though everything happening beneath him was nothing more than a passing amusement.
The contrast fascinated her.
He wasn't shouting.
He wasn't threatening anyone.
He wasn't forcing them to kneel.
He wasn't even paying them much attention.
Yet every elf in the room looked more afraid of him than they did of death itself.
….
Her heart skipped.
For the first time, Vexion realized something deeply so.
Fear and despair were not the same thing.
Fear could make someone scream, or even run, or fight for their lives desperately seeking to survive.
Despair...
Despair on the other hand made them stop.
The elves before her had stopped.
Stopped hoping.
Stopped resisting.
Stopped believing they could survive.
Their bodies were still standing.
But their spirits had already died.
And all of it had been caused by a single boy, not a man whos lived a thousand years, a small young boy.
A strange warmth spread through her chest.
Vexion had always been cruel.
She knew that.
She enjoyed seeing people suffer.
She enjoyed watching arrogant fools realize they were powerless.
She enjoyed revenge.
Violence.
Misfortune.
The tears of her enemies.
None of that was new.
Yet she had never seen anything like this.
Not once.
No matter what she did to someone, there was always resistance.
Hatred and defiance.
Even as they died, they would curse her, threaten her, beg her.
They would try, something , anything.
But Dante...
Dante had done something different.
He hadn't merely defeated them.
He had convinced them there was no point fighting at all.
The realization sent a shiver through her body.
A dangerous one.
Her eyes remained locked on him.
The more she looked, the more she noticed things.
The way he casually forgot the names of powerful nobles.
The way he smiled while discussing death.
The way he could torture someone and then immediately become distracted by something else.
Not because he was trying to appear cruel.
Not because he was pretending.
But because he genuinely did not care.
To him, the suffering around him carried no more weight than rain falling from the sky.
That thought should have disgusted her.
It should have horrified her.
Instead...
Her heart tightened.
A strange feeling began spreading through her chest.
At first, she mistook it for admiration.
Then loyalty.
Then obsession.
Yet none of those words felt correct.
They felt too small and inadequate. Her gaze softened unconsciously.
She imagined following him and standing, beside?
Yes, beside him.
Watching him continue to spread this impossible despair effortlessly so. Wouldn't that just be, amazing?.
The thought alone filled her with excitement.
No.
More than excitement.
Anticipation.
For the first time in her life, Vexion felt as though she had found someone who truly understood her.
Someone who was even worse than she was.
Someone far more terrifying.
Someone she could devote herself to without regret.
The realization struck her suddenly.
So suddenly that she almost laughed.
Her heart pounded violently.
Her fingers tightened.
And then she understood.
She wanted his approval.
She wanted his attention.
She wanted him to acknowledge her, he might not even consider the lives of both innocent and guilty alike but what if he acknowledges her?.
More than that...
She wanted to completely belong to him.
The thought should have frightened her.
Instead it filled her with joy.
A joy so profound that she could barely contain it.
Her beautiful lips parted slightly.
A whisper escaped.
So soft that only she could hear it.
"My master..."
Her eyes never left Dante.
"I will follow you to death."
The words flowed naturally.
Without hesitation.
Without doubt.
Without reason.
"I wish to stand beside you."
"I wish to help you."
"I wish to see the world you create."
A smile slowly spread across her face.
Small.
Beautiful.
Mad.
She knew she was unworthy, a halfling but perhaps. Her Master wouldn't care.
"If bringing despair is your desire..."
"Then I will spread it for you."
"If becoming a monster is your desire..."
"Then I will become one with you."
Her voice grew softer.
Almost affectionate.
"I, Vexion, offer myself to you."
The words left her lips before she could stop them.
Her eyes remained fixed upon the boy sitting above the room.
The boy who had unknowingly stolen her heart.
The boy who had shown her a form of cruelty, a form of power she had never imagined possible.
The boy who had made her realize she had never truly understood despair until today.
A warmth bloomed inside her chest.
Dangerous.
Twisted.
Beautiful.
And with a smile that no sane person could understand, she whispered the final words.
"My master."
"I love you."