Path of the Demonic Villain

The next morning...

——

Normally, in winter it was standard for the sky to be gloomy in the mornings till middays. But as one drew closer to anywhere where a labyrinth was located, things moved from merely gloomy to downright depressing.

...The world was gray and dark.

Even after one went out of the ruined district where the Labyrinth of Sylveria was located, the scenery did not get much better, as it was choked by the low mist and thick chimney smoke hanging over the old town.

Amidst this gloom, the carriage driven by Matteo rattled along the cobbled street, on its way toward the local train station.

Since Vincenzo had not joined them, having left to attend to other business, the only occupants were Isabella who was currently gently stroking Dante’s hair, the lazy Dante who slept so comfortably on her lap, and the Afghan Hound who kept licking his face from time to time.

When they eventually got to the station, the trio boarded the first-class coach, while the carriage was hitched to the flatcar at the rear of the train.

It didn’t take long before the train whistled and departed for the Municipal District of Ravena.

***

Three hours later, the carriage driven by Matteo rolled into the Fioravanti Villa.

After coming to a stop in front of the massive limestone building, with its ornate slate mansard roof and detailed dormer windows, Dante and company alighted.

Just as they were about to head inside, however, a freckled woman suddenly darted out of the main entrance. And before Dante could say anything, she threw her arms around him in a fierce hug.

"Oh, thank Goddess. I was so worried after I got the news," Caterina sobbed.

"I can’t breathe." Dante, who had his arms lying limp at his sides, exhaled exasperatedly and added, "Let go of me."

A second passed.

"I said let go."

Another few seconds passed.

"Let go of me this instant, you vile witch!"

"Shut up," Caterina sniffled. "Do you know how afraid I was that I would miss seeing that ugl- I mean beautiful smile of yours?"

’Fuck you, Caterina,’ he grumbled as he grabbed her slender torso to free himself.

***

Following the unfortunate events of the Sylverian Labyrinth, time went by with Dante either eating, sleeping, or grieving his dead friend.

Normally, if a person died in a labyrinth, unless they were of noble blood or from a prominent house, it was best to just leave them in the Labyrinth.

However, since it wasn’t too much trouble, Dante had chosen to bring their bodies out so that their families could give them a proper burial and a chance at farewell.

Lucian was one of the hired knights of the Fioravanti family, and he had two kids and a wife who was currently pregnant with their third. As for Thalia, she was an orphan whose only family was Dante.

He sighed.

...Today being the second morning after he returned, he dressed up in a black shirt, tailored dark trousers, and a thick, double-breasted wool overcoat.

Then he walked over to his large wooden display case, opening it to reveal several monocles and glasses. Without lingering, he picked a silver-framed pair and slipped them onto his face.

***

Southern edge of Ravena Metropolis

San Marco Municipal Cemetery...

——

The weather in this part of the world always acted funny. Most times it would snow; other times it would rain. Today, it was raining.

Dante stood motionless in front of the freshly dug mound of earth. In his right hand, he held a black umbrella, and in his left was a single black rose.

His glassy eyes stared at the tombstone in front of him. Carved into the cold stone was the name Thalia Montclair, followed by the dates: 1870 – 1888.

Dante could recall when they first met, which was on the screen when he played the game in his previous life. She was an NPC he had met on a random side quest and had helped. As someone who had lost both parents when she was young, she had ended up in a local orphanage. But since indentured labor was a heavy practice in this world, she had been sold by the orphanage to a factory owner to serve as an unpaid apprentice until she turned eighteen.

The factory owner, however, was a real piece of shit who mistreated his workers, so Dante had intervened in the game’s quest-line to help her.

When he came into this world, he had vaguely remembered her and had mentioned it to his father in passing that he needed her indenture paid off and canceled. However, truth be told, he was a bit surprised when his father had done it that very day without asking any questions, and since she had nowhere else to go afterward, she was given a place in their villa as his maid.

That was how they grew close.

...Now, she was dead.

Dante sighed.

Ever since coming to this world, this was the first time he was losing someone close to him. To be honest, at first, he had found it hard to accept his transmigration into the game. At one point, he had even almost gone crazy.

He spent years looking for answers and trying to find a way back to his real world... to his friends, but it was all to no avail.

As time went by, however, he had begun to accept that this was real. The people were real, and this was his new reality.

When he thought about it, his living conditions here were a hundred times better than in his previous life, so he had even grown to love this place. But the truth of the matter was that his transition had been made easier thanks to the family he found here.

Without them, things would have been really difficult. And so, he had grown to genuinely love them all, so much that he dreaded the thought of losing any of them.

’I won’t lose anyone anymore,’ he thought as he tightened his grip on the rose.

Of course, he knew the many dangers of this world, and he knew what awaited his family in the future.

His mother, his father, his siblings... they were all doomed to die, too, including him.

But now that he was here, he swore that he wouldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t let any of his family die, and he certainly would try all he could to make sure he did not kick the bucket.

His plan was simple. He was going to live a long, happy life with them.

"You used to like roses," he muttered as he looked down at the flower in his hand. Then he exhaled and gently tossed it onto the dark, damp earth.

After staring down at the velvet black petals, which were edged with a vibrant bleed of deep red for a moment, he muttered to himself with a small, somber smile.

"The Bleeding Rose. Heh. It has a nice ring to it."

The pitter-patter of the chilling rain continued to fall around him, and then Dante’s ears perked as he heard footsteps approaching through the wet grass.

When he slowly turned around, he saw a remarkably handsome man in his early twenties. The man was dressed in a tailored, double-breasted charcoal overcoat over an aristocratic suit, though his left sleeve hung empty, flailing gently in the cold wind while his arm rested hidden beneath the coat. In his right hand, he held a black umbrella.

He had long, silver-white hair that fell past his shoulders in soft waves, striking ice-blue eyes, and a face that bore an uncanny resemblance to their father, Cesare Fioravanti.

"Kate told me you’d be here," he said as he stopped beside Dante, looking down at the fresh grave.

Dante exhaled slowly, turning his gaze away from his brother and back to the cold tombstone. "It’s been a while, Arno."

Arno let out a soft chuckle. "It has. I had planned on coming back to the Villa earlier, but I decided to stop by Mostera first. I heard a black-market broker set up shop near the rail line."

As he spoke, he drew his left arm out from beneath his overcoat. It was entirely metallic, crafted from polished dark steel and seamlessly inlaid with delicate gold patterns along the joints and knuckles. He flexed the artificial fingers, and the subtle click of gears turned beneath the metal.

"This one’s come to be a favorite," Arno said, a spark of genuine excitement lighting up his eyes as he spoke. "The things it can do, Goddess. I’ll show you when we have time."

Ever since Arno had lost his left arm and leg, he had relied on prosthetics to move around. But over the years, that necessity had spiraled into an obsession. He had become a complete fanatic and collector, spending thousands of gold Crowns on rare, high-grade mechanical limbs and custom magitech parts.

"Trust me, you’ll be baffled, heh heh. The artisan requested 6,000 Crowns for it. A bit expensive, but it was worth it, I tell you."

As he rambled on, he noticed that Dante was just giving him a blank look. Arno quickly caught himself and cleared his throat.

"By the way, my condolences. I heard what happened, brat," he said, transferring the umbrella to his left hand before reaching out to clasp Dante’s shoulder with his warm right hand. "A shame for the poor girl. But I’m glad you survived."

Dante sighed quietly.

Truth be told, he knew his brother couldn’t give a shit about Thalia. Arno didn’t care much about people outside their immediate family, and Dante was willing to bet he didn’t even know Thalia’s name.

After a moment, Dante shifted his gaze past Arno’s shoulder to where a woman was standing a short distance away, waiting for him near the carriage path.

She was tall and strikingly attractive, dressed far too lavishly for a cemetery in the rain. She wore a figure-hugging, dark velvet dress with a plunging neckline and intricate lace embroidery, partially covered by a plush fur stole wrapped loosely around her shoulders. A wide-brimmed, feathered hat sat tilted on her styled hair, and she held a delicate lace parasol that was doing a terrible job of keeping the rain off her. She looked thoroughly bored as she shifted her weight on high-heeled boots.

"Who’s the lady?" Dante asked without trying to hide that he was talking about her.

"Oh, her?" Arno smiled, turning his head slightly toward her before looking back at Dante. "That’s Geneviève. She’s the daughter of a prominent textile merchant back in Mostera. I picked her up on my way through town. Lovely company, though she does complain quite a bit about the weather."

"Ah," Dante said, tilting his head back slightly as he studied her. "And I take it you’ve offered to keep her warm back at the Villa."

Arno grinned without a hint of shame. "Naturally. It’s only polite."

Dante looked away. "I see."

After a moment of quiet, Arno dipped his hand into his inner coat pocket and pulled out a silver hip flask. Then, he offered it to Dante. "Here."

Dante looked at the metal flask for a few seconds. Just as he reached out to take it, Arno spoke up again, and there was a sudden edge of cold anger creeping into his voice.

"When I heard what happened, I thought you’d be in bad shape. I’m really glad you’re looking good. I’ve already sent my men out. They’ll hunt those bastards down, and I swear I’m going to flay them alive myself."

Dante shook his head. "No."

"Huh?" Arno frowned in confusion.

Dante uncapped the flask and took a long swig. The harsh liquor burned down his throat, but he didn’t so much as wince. He lowered the flask, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as his eyes turned dark.

"Don’t bother," he said quietly. "Mother will handle that, so do not worry. I need them alive.

"And in really good health."