Days had passed. Not for Dante.
The blood on his clothes was no longer red, but brown.
But the hunt wasn't over.
Dante had found a new address in Sarn's pockets.
A receipt. Old-fashioned, signed by a certain Malek Caledron, CEO of the "HouseofCinder," a establishment in the heart of Duraand's Grey District.
A place where debts were never erased — not even by death.
---
Nightfall — GreyDistrict
Starving children ran barefoot, scars shaped like numbers carved into their backs. Adults watched them without seeing, eyes gouged out, skin tattooed with the Caledron symbol.
Dante walked through without stopping. He was no longer a man, not yet a monster. Something in between.
Before him stood a building, architecture reminiscent of an old cathedral. The sign in golden letters read :
Cinder Bank & Associates — Debts and Inheritances.
A concierge greeted him, polite, dressed in a tailored suit.
— "Welcome, sir. Debtor's name ?"
Dante stabbed her eye with a blade.
She convulsed. Black veins erupted across her skin.
— Debtor : Malek Caledron.
— Debt : My mother's eyes.
And he entered.
---
Inside — Register Sanctum
Emaciated scribes, their hands bound by mental chains, typed on archaic keyboards.
Screams echoed from the lower levels. A man tried to flee, a collar around his neck.
He begged to have his debt erased. They dragged him off. He cried. Repeating a single word : Malek... Malek...
At the back of the sanctum stood a vault door. And two guards.
They were massive, shaved heads, dressed in leather.
Glyphs were inscribed on their arms — each spell they endured seemed to make them stronger. Human golems of a kind.
Dante snapped his fingers — a violet explosion. He screamed, his skin melting.
He rolled, dodging the other's punch, his dagger finding its heart.
Nothing. It had lost its heart long ago. So he aimed for the neck. Then the eyes. Then the kidneys — and though they seemed immune, blood loss finished the job.
The guards' blood wasn't red. It was viscous sludge, filled with tiny, wailing souls.
When he entered Malek's chamber, he limped, one eye closed, breath ragged.
---
Malek Caledron's Chamber
A wickerwood desk. Red curtains. And there, seated in an armchair — Malek.
An elegant man. Piercing gaze. Black tie, white gloves. He didn't rise.
— "Hey Dante. I hoped you'd come."
— "You knew I would ?"
— "You've been making quite a scene for some time now, so I assumed my turn would come." Said Malek, fingers interlaced.
— "Shut up."
Dante clenched his fists. The floor cracked. He wanted to kill him now. But Malek went on :
— "You know nothing about your mother. She came to borrow... for you. She knew it would cost her vision — or worse. She chose to say nothing, to suffer. So you could live... and become an international executive."
Dante trembled.
— "You lie."
— "Sure, I'm a banker. Between laundering money and other illegal business, I lie plenty. You know better than anyone that down here, hard work alone doesn't get you far."
He snapped his fingers. Behind him, a glass box. Inside, a spectral eye floating in golden fluid.
— "Here is her vision. Intact. I've kept it as collateral since the debt."
The floor cracked beneath Dante. He ran. But Malek had already raised his hand.
Still seated, his gloved fingers drummed the armrest.
Behind him, the curtains trembled — not from wind, but from an energy pressure emanating from every corner of the room.
Malek smiled. He drew a black fountain pen, dipped it into a vial of blood, and signed a red-ink invocation.
— Active debt : "FlayedSubstitution."
A pale, naked double of Dante appeared — muscles tensed like a beast's. But it had no skin. Just nerves, veins, and a bare skull.
The clone screamed... a scream without lips, pure raw pain. And charged.
The fight began.
Dante narrowly dodged, materialized a dagger of dark energy, struck the clone's shoulder — but it didn't slow down.
The skinless creature leapt to the wall, clinging to it like an insect, spiraling toward Dante at dizzying speed.
Dante used his technique InvertedImpact.
He struck the air with his palm, reversing gravity momentarily in a bubble around him. The clone fell vertically, disoriented.
He seized the chance — a knee to the chest, then grabbed a vial from his belt.
He shattered it on the creature's chest — acid hissed into its flesh, but it kept moving.
— "Just an advance payment, Malek sneered. Let's wait for the due date."
He snapped his fingers.
Behind him, the floor split open. A black altar rose, holding a book of debts — every page a curse, every line a weapon.
Malek opened a page.
— Debt number 376 : "Exilof the Name."
Suddenly, Dante felt his own name slipping away.
He tried to say "I am Dante" — but no sound came out.
His identity was vanishing, slowly. His movements turned clumsy. Even his shadow no longer recognized him.
So he acted.
He drove his fingers into his own chest. The pain was absolute.
But with a powerful, energy-soaked scream, he carved his name into the air — a raw glyphic signature.
Many had special powers — wind, light, water, telekinesis.
But Dante's was Ginny — a creature both adorable and demonic, feeding off everything, even intense emotions, to fuel his fighting.
Ginny, true name Gluttony, had one main ability, to stealtechniques by devouring them, letting Dante grow stronger with each power absorbed — but only if he understood them.
Jackpot !
The word "Dante" burned in red letters around him, repelling the effect.
Then he charged.
He pierced through the illusion. The clone tried to block him, but Dante used a DelayedBlade — a technique where the strike lands not at impact… but three seconds later.
He struck air — nothing happened.
The clone sneered. Then, suddenly, its skull cracked, crushed by an invisible divine hand.
Covered in black blood and bile, Dante lunged toward Malek.
Malek raised his hand. A wall of numbers rose — amounts, names of dead debtors, stacked into a mystical barrier.
But Dante stabbed his own palm, let his blood flow, and screamed :
— "Debt paid… in vengeance !"
The barrier shattered.
Dante leapt. His feet slipped. He twisted his body at the last second to dodge a spiritual debt arrow — a golden bolt tore through his shoulder. He screamed, rolled across the floor.
Malek fired a second bolt.
But Dante, on his knees, ate it. Absorbed it with his mouth, crushed it with his teeth, and spat back a jet of tainted light straight at Malek's grimoire. The pages burst into flames.
— "You… you can't… destroy… the contracts !" shouted Malek.
— "No, no no no no ! Stop it fucking bastard ! Stooooooooooooop !"
— "Your path ends here."
He leapt one last time.
This time, he didn't strike. He opened his palm. Another blade of dark energy formed.
He drove it into Malek's heart.
But the banker laughed.
— "You haven't killed me yet. The debt… must still be paid. One eye missing, you bastard…"
He exhaled his last breath.
Dante stared at him with disgust, then approached the vault. He opened the glass box.
His mother's eye floated within.
He touched it. And in a broken whisper, a voice escaped :
— "Dante, my son... after all these days i see you, honey."