Dante's breath hitched, and his body strained against the suffocating pressure that descended upon him, but it was no use. The magic was too strong, thanks to being boosted by a powerful mage.
When feeling this, his heart sank, a sickening dread twisting in his chest as he realized the source of the mana. His gaze snapped upward, locking onto Ashley, who was using her gravity magic to keep him trapped in place, as she was a S Rank space mage.
Fury consumed him as he realized her betrayal. Something inside shattered, irrevocably breaking a vital piece of his friendly soul so it would forever be changed. Then, an eerie voice reverberated in his mind. 'Embrace your rage, Death Monarch! Unleash your true power and step into the darkness, let the world see who you are!'
Dante's piercing blue eyes burned as he glared at the blonde girl who had betrayed him, her tear-streaked face a mockery of fake remorse. Moments later, her sobbing hardened into a resolute expression as Ben whispered something to her.
''You dare cry! I trusted you with my life, and now you want to take it!'' he raged against the magic as he stood up, staring at Ashley. ''You expect me to accept this betrayal?! You'll pay! I promise you all will pay for this!''
Her hands were outstretched, fingers quivering as tendrils of mana pulsed, weaving the spell that held him captive. Betrayal and heartbreak warred within him, but before he could speak, a voice cut through the tension like a blade.
''The emperor was right,'' Ben stepped forward, his expression a mix of grim resolve and sorrow as he accused. ''Your power's gone to your head. The old Dante, the one we trusted, the one we fought beside.''
''Never would have struck Michael like that. Not without reason. It's the other side of you, isn't it? The one we've all been afraid of. It's taking over,'' the young man continued.
Dante's breath caught, and the words stung. The air grew heavy, not just from Ashley's magic but from the crushing weight of doubt and accusation. His mind raced as memories of his past self clashed with the raw, untamed power coursing through him now.
''Thanks to the Sunreach's Time magic, we've seen what you become if not killed,'' Jason suddenly exclaimed. ''Now let's get this over and done.''
He gave the idiot a dirty look as he retorted. ''That's all magic, it's not fact! Most of you have known me since we were ten!''
''We were shown you helping an evil Dragon burn down a kingdom after the monster devoured its princesses, and you stood there chuckling like the Joker!'' Ashley suddenly revealed in a horrified voice. ''You kill everyone! Men, women, and children! You've turned from the light that gave us our powers, and everyone's seen it now.''
At that moment, Michael's faint groan in the distance drew the remaining heroes, including the empire's mightiest. Seizing the distraction, Dante broke free from Ashley's trap just as Ben lunged to strike him.
He dodged and struck, using a Light Blast that slammed into his ex-best friend's chest. The young man crumpled to the ground as the other heroes joined the fray. Two girls moved on him, but he slapped Jess and Beth, sending them flying.
Fiona, Reece, and Sarah unleashed their S-Rank powers, turning them on him. A storm of blades and spells surged in his direction, but with a single wave of his hand, he created a Light Shield, effortlessly deflecting the projectiles.
Undeterred, his eyes glowed, ready to crush his treacherous friends, only for fate to intervene in the form of the SSS Rank Imperial Mage. Decades of mastery flowed through the old man's veins, eclipsing his raw might.
In a heartbeat, a cataclysmic Mana Blast erupted from the old man's staff, slamming into his chest with the power of a collapsing star. The force hurtled him through the air, crashing against the stone wall.
Dante crumpled to the ground as the pain was too much, his ribs splintered and his breath stolen, a new shadow loomed. Sasha Brown, his homeroom teacher, emerged from the chaos, her face a mask of coldness.
Without a word, her boot descended, smashing into his face. The world dissolved into a void as darkness claimed him. When consciousness clawed its way back, he awoke to a nightmare made real.
Cold iron chains bound him to a damp wall. A slave collar strangled his once-boundless magic and power. The weight of his defeat left a bitter taste of betrayal in his mouth that angered him to know end.
Following this, Dante languished in the suffocating cell, under the emperor's cruel decree to be starved until weak. The mold-slicked stone walls closed in, each hour sharpening the hunger that clawed at his core.
His once-proud figure was draped in tattered clothes, yet his spirit remained bright, a flicker of defiance burning like the sun. On the seventh day, as the faint glow from the barred window faded to twilight, a figure appeared at the cell door.
Michael, his former classmate, is now a smug enforcer of the emperor. Dante watched as his old friend moved closer to the iron bars, his fancy clothing and polished boots a stark contrast to the cell's filth.
''Well, look at this,'' he sneered. ''The great Hero Dante, caged like a common thief. Quite the fall for someone who thought he could challenge the empire.''
The young man paused, relishing the moment, his eyes gleaming with cruel satisfaction as he continued. ''You're fortunate the emperor craves a grand spectacle. A quick end would've been far too merciful for you.''
Dante's eyes, blazing with barely restrained fury, fixed on his so-called friend. Their shared past, years of training together, and clashing swords in the sun-drenched courtyards, made the betrayal cut deeper than any wound.
The idiot's taunts stung, but he refused to let his former friend see him falter. His silence, thick with disdain, only seemed to fuel Michael's amusement. Stepping closer to the bars, the young man's grin widened, his tone dropping to a mocking whisper.
''We dodged a bullet,'' Michael sneered ''Thamior's time magic laid it all bare, visions of you turning dark, obliterating everything we know.''
The young man jabbed a finger at him, his eyes glinting with malice. ''The palace is sealed tighter than a tomb, and you? You're the emperor's prized spectacle now.''
His cold laughter echoed off the stone walls as he turned to leave, his parting words hanging like a grim vow. ''Brace yourself, hero. The empire's got a brutal show planned for you.''
Dante's fists clenched, nails biting into his palms as he stared at the empty doorway. The fire in his chest blazed hotter, fueled by defiance. Whatever the empire had schemed, he'd meet it head-on, his spirit unbroken, ready to turn their spectacle into his rebellion.
The echo of Michael's mocking laughter still lingered in the dank air of the cell as his restraint snapped like a brittle twig. His chest heaved, the fire in his veins erupting into a blaze that consumed every shred of composure.
He surged to his feet, chains straining against the stone floor thanks to his strength, and gripped the iron bars with such force that his knuckles whitened as his old friend was shocked by the sheer will to move.
''This cage won't hold me forever!'' Dante bellowed, which seemed to make the dim light tremble. ''I'll come for you, Michael, every last one of you. I'll raze this wretched empire to the ground, and every soul in it will choke on the ruins!''
Michael froze mid-step, his cocky smirk faltering as he turned back to face him. The venom in his words, the raw, unhinged promise of annihilation, sent a shiver down his spine. For the first time, the smug young man's confidence wavered.
His eyes widened as he saw not the broken and starving prisoner he'd expected, but a beast barely contained by flesh and bone. ''You're… you're delusional,'' Michael stammered, his tone betraying a tremor as he backed away from the bars when he saw his aura flaring like a wild beast.
''The emperor will break you, Dante. You're nothing now, but his words lacked conviction, and he hurried from the cell, the heavy door slamming shut behind him.
The empire, however, was not content to let his defiance go unanswered. Over the next few days, they unleashed their cruelty. Many torturers came in waves, their tools stained with the blood of countless others.
They beat him, burned him, and carved into his flesh, each strike meant to shatter his spirit. Yet he endured, his mind clinging to the vow he'd made. Each scream torn from his throat only fueled his hatred, each wound a reminder of the reckoning he would bring.
While they worked to break him, he remembered his time with the companions who accompanied them on their journey. Dante swore to get his revenge on all of them and burn this world to the ground.