Dante moved beneath the sickly sky, his black coat clinging to his skin, boots slogging through a mixture of mud, blood, and human filth.
Tucked under his arm was a bundle of envelopes and bloodstained pages torn from the Chrysalide archives—docunts taken after he slit the throats of the scribes who kept them.
One na kept surfacing at the bottom of each page : Caledron.
"Curse approved : Annabelle Edwin.
Status : blind. Vital signs declining."
The aning was clear. His mother hadn’t fallen ill by accident. Nor by misfortune.
She had been sold.
Dante stepped into a dive bar—The Extinguished Throat.
Inside, the air stank of beer. Blurred, gaunt faces barely turned toward him before returning to their drunk.
In the far corner, hunched over a rusted iron table, sat a man with a brown scarf around his neck.
They called him Belloq. His black eye ca from so street brawl.
Dante sat across from him without a word.
— "You’ve got the look of soone ready to blow up a world." Belloq said with a slow burping laugh.
— "You’re disgusting," Dante replied coldly. "Tell where I can find them. All of them. One by one."
He dropped the blood-stained pages on the table, but kept his hand over them like a beast guarding its prey.
Belloq looked down. His face drained when he recognized the seals.
— "Shit... You cracked a viper’s nest. These aren’t just people, Dante. They’re a whole goddamn army. The Caledrons don’t lend to get repaid. They lend to punish. And so of them enjoy it."
— "I’m not here for their money. I’m here for their blood."
Belloq wiped sweat from his neck, suddenly nervous.
— "You don’t want to start smaller ? A branch ? A lieutenant ?"
— "I’ll get to them. Just give the first door."
— "Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Start with the Cinder Bank. That’s where they wash their blood money. You’ll find Malek there. One of their executioners. He’s silenced dozens... like your mother."
Dante stared. He didn’t blink.
— "Thanks. Now tell one thing... You knew, didn’t you ? About her ?"
A too long pause.
— "I heard whispers... soone said a woman gave up her sight so her son could have sucess. But I didn’t know it was her, Dante. Not Annabelle Edwin. She was married to Tristan Caledron, but there were rumors—she ran off with a commoner, a man nad Edward Godwin, driven by passion. She fled with the newborn, the bastard son of Tristan. That’s all anyone knew. Then she took a debt for you. To get you into a academy in Alris."
Dante rose, fists clenched. He had suspected, but this... this was more than he knew.
The chair scraped against the grimy floor.
A hand on his shoulder.
— "Dante... if you kill them all, what’ll be left ? No hate. No purpose. And your family ? They’ll be hunted next."
He turned halfway, sothing monstrous glinting in his eyes.
— "You don’t know a thing about . Dante is dead. I’m just continuing his story. Enemies ? I’ve got thousands. Burdens ? I carry every cry of ’freedom’ from the innocent. And I won’t stop... not while pigs like the Caledrons sleep in peace. Klein. Sparda. The New Church. Hell’s demons. Satan himself. Anyone who dares hurt my people... I’ll slaughter them all."
Belloq blinked—confused, shaken. It was as if soone else had spoken through Dante.
Reviews
All reviews (0)