Dante wiped the stardust from his face, barely keeping himself upright.
The Fallen Star had fought back—hard. But now, its celestial blood pulsed within a vial, glowing like liquid fire.
"Alright, Trickster. We got the heart, the dragon's teeth, and now this." Dante muttered. "What's the last thing?"
The Trickster humd, dragging out the suspense.
Then, with a wicked grin, he said: "A loved one. Soone who loves you, or in this case... loves Lirian."
Dante froze. His stomach dropped.
The only na that ca up was her.
The girl obsessed with Lirian.
Dante scowled. "No. Absolutely not."
The Trickster laughed. "Oh, co on! She adores you! This is perfect!"
The Sound God snickered. "Technically, she only loves Lirian, not Dante. That's a little awkward, don't you think?"
Dante clenched his fists. "We're not doing this."
The Trickster grinned wider. "We don't have a choice, kid."
Dante gritted his teeth.
---
A few hours later, the girl was knocked out cold, tied to a chair in Lirian's house.
Dante stared at her unconscious form with an unreadable expression.
The Trickster sighed dramatically. "Ah, young love."
Dante shot him a glare. "I'm going to kill you when this is over."
The Trickster ignored him, already preparing the ritual circle.
Why Dante?
Before they began the ritual, Dante leaned against the wall, arms crossed, eyes narrowed at the Trickster.
"Sothing's been bothering ."
The Trickster raised an eyebrow. "Only one thing? Impressive."
Dante ignored the sarcasm. "Why do you even need ?"
The Trickster tilted his head.
"I an," Dante continued, "you can co out of my body whenever you want, right? So why bother with all of this? Why do you need at all?"
The Trickster's grin faltered, just for a second.
Then, he sighed, stretching his arms. "Yes, I can co out. But when I do, I'm limited."
"Limited?" Dante echoed.
The Trickster nodded. "I can only do a few things when I step outside of your body. The mont I do, you lose the power I give you. It's like a trade-off—I either support you, or I act myself. I can't do both."
Dante's expression darkened. "So you're weak on your own."
The Trickster snorted. "Weak? No. But I'm not what I used to be. My power is locked away, and I can't use it fully unless you break the seal."
Dante frowned. "Then why not just possess completely?"
The Trickster's grin returned, sharp as a knife. "You wouldn't survive."
Dante inhaled sharply.
"But breaking the seal will change that."
Silence.
Then Dante scoffed, rubbing his temples. "Great. So you do need ."
The Trickster shrugged. "More than you know, kid."
Dante clenched his fists.
"Fine. Let's do this."
Before they could begin, the Sound God suddenly spoke.
"Tell sothing, Dante."
Dante, who had been massaging his temples, groaned. "Now what?"
"Back at the tournant, you hesitated. You used a trick instead of finishing the fight. But when it ca to the king..." The Sound God chuckled darkly. "You ripped his heart out without thinking."
Dante's expression hardened.
"Are you afraid of taking a life?"
The Trickster raised an eyebrow, clearly interested in Dante's answer.
Dante exhaled through his nose. "No. But I only kill when it's the last option."
The Sound God humd. "I see..."
Dante t his gaze. "The man at the tournant didn't need to die. He wasn't my enemy—just another fool trying to survive. But the king..."
His fingers twitched. His nails dug into his palms.
"He wasn't going to stop."
Silence.
Then the Trickster clapped. "Well, that was dramatic. Shall we?"
Dante sighed. "Yeah. Let's get this over with."
---
The Ritual Begins
The Trickster snapped his fingers.
The Stillborn King's Heart—his curse—was the foundation. A source of power and suffering, ant to bind the seal's lock.
The Dragon's Teeth were for strength—indestructibility. His body had to withstand the seal's removal.
The Blood of a Fallen Star was celestial energy, a power that could override earthly magic.
Dante nodded slowly. "And the girl?"
The Trickster smirked. "Oh, that? No real reason. I just wanted to see you struggle to get her."
Dante's eye twitched.
The Sound God wheezed with laughter. "Oh, you bastard!"
Dante turned to strangle the Trickster, but before he could, the ritual activated.
The room shook.
A pulse of energy spread across the Reaper Institute.
Dante's body rose into the air. Fire, light, and shadows exploded outward, swirling around him in chaotic patterns.
The house was engulfed in a storm of color—blue, gold, red, black.
And at the center of it all—
Dante.
His veins glowed. His mark burned. His soul scread.
His body was being rebuilt from the inside out.
Then, in his hand—
A sphere of pure darkness.
A black hole, swirling with the sa colors as his mark.
He landed, staggering forward, panting.
The Trickster grinned. "Congratulations. You just beca a real problem."
Dante clenched the sphere. He could feel it—raw power.
But elsewhere—
A soldier felt it too.
His eyes snapped open. He slled sothing.
Trickster Godblood.
The landscape had changed.
The power had shifted.
And now...
He had to warn the higher-ups.
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