Path of the Demonic Villain

"I don’t mean to sound ungrateful or anything, but uh... I really hate the fact that to use some of my powers, I have to injure myself, Mother Evelyn."

Dante stared at the ring on his index finger, which had a sharp, curved claw designed to prick his own skin. While he was still staring at it with a somber expression, Edward’s voice suddenly sounded in his head.

"I do not understand, master. Why is that a problem? Aren’t you going to heal?"

Dante arched a brow at the question. "You don’t understand why I’d prefer not to stab myself on purpose? Healing or not, pain is still pain, you little sadist!"

He gritted his teeth, then dragged the claw across the meat of his palm.

Thick blood immediately burst out of the wound into the air in four ribbons that whirled and coiled around him.

He then willed the ribbons to detach and change shape, hardening into four distinct swords.

’Crafting weapons and objects from my blood eats up a surprising amount of divine energy,’ Dante noted, watching the floating blades. ’And the higher I push their density, the more power it takes just to keep them intact.’

He willed one of the swords to lose its form, liquefying it into an expanding crimson wave that curved around him to form a massive shield.

’I can force a small amount of blood to increase in volume, but again, that drains my energy even faster because the increased volume is coming from my blood reserves. At this rate, if I’m not prudent, I’ll burn through it in no time.’

Dante sighed. He had already known that divine skills were not something one was supposed to spam without restraint or keep active for long.

They were part of an apostle’s arsenal, not the entire arsenal.

It was just like managing cooldowns and mana in a game. Knowing when to hit a skill, and picking the precise ability for the right moment, was what made a great Gamer.

And in this case, it was what made a great Apostle.

’I need to be prudent with my reserves and time my usage carefully. If I don’t know exactly when and how to execute this skill, I’m just wasting blood.’

He willed the blood shield and two of the blades back into his body, leaving him with one. Then he reached out and grabbed the hilt, feeling the warm, hardened density of his own blood in his grip.

For the next few minutes, Dante went through a series of basic martial drills, testing its weight, balance, and edge against the empty air.

Not wanting to limit himself to a single form, he morphed the blood sword into a spear, sweeping and thrusting the elongated shaft to gauge its reach.

Of course, he hadn’t asked Signor Gerald, his family’s knight, to teach him only swordsmanship.

One of the defining traits of the Warrior class was [Master of Arms], which allowed them to pick up and, to some extent, wield almost any physical melee weapon. Knowing this, Dante had previously asked the knight to show him the fundamentals of several arms, including the spear and the mace.

Although, truth be told, back when his physical stats were still abysmal, Dante’s favorite weapons had always been ranged ones.

"Strengthen my body, ten percent."

He gripped the blood spear tightly, lunged forward a bit, while winding his arm back, then threw the crimson shaft with full force toward the iron silhouette of a man at the far end of the training range.

The spear whistled through the air, but unfortunately, it missed the chest plate completely and slammed into the stone wall behind it, shattering into a shower of crimson liquid drops.

Dante sighed dejectedly, lowering his arm. Currently, he was in the private indoor training gallery of his family’s villa.

It was a spacious, vaulted hall, lit up by gaslamps and magitech lamps along the stone walls. There was a wooden rack displaying an assortment of melee weapons by the wall, along with long velvet-covered benches where polished parlor rifles and target pistols were neatly arranged. At the far end, set up along a mechanical track, were different iron silhouettes of men, boars, and stags designed for target practice.

Just as Dante raised his palm to will another weapon of blood out from his cut, he suddenly heard Edward’s voice in his mind.

’Your mother is here.’--

Reflexively, he spun around to see her walking into the space quietly with a half-empty bottle of water in her hand.

When their eyes met, she smiled and said, "I can see that you’ve really been taking your weapons training seriously. The way you move. One might mistake you for a warrior. That’s good in a way."

Dante lowered his head. "Good evening, Mother."

Isabella nodded gently as she stopped near him, though her gaze remained fixed in the distance where the crimson stain slowly trickled down the wall.

"However, you must always remember that you are not a warrior. Your father and brother think like warriors, and I have to say, most of the time, I do not like the way they think. Always so stubbornly direct, meeting force with force. Jumping into a clash of weapons as if every battle can be won by brute force."

She turned to him, and her expression softened. "You are a High Priest. Know your weaknesses first, and always act with your brains before brawn."

She paused before adding with a faint smile, "What I’m trying to say is... there’s nothing wrong with being a shameless fellow."

"...?"

Dante smiled as he understood her meaning.

Isabella continued in a light yet remarkably earnest tone. "Even when you have to fight with a weapon, be cunning, crafty, and entirely unbothered by fair play. Hit someone before they can even draw their weapon. Hit them twice as hard when they’re down and trying to apologize. Ambush them while they’re mid-monologue. Poison their water, blind them with pocket sand, and if a fight looks inconvenient, there’s nothing wrong with simply walking away to restrategize. The same is the case when you are facing creatures that are not human."

She took a slow sip from her water bottle before looking back at him. "Even though you may have gained substantial power after becoming an Apostle, never let it get to your head."

’Well, actually, this has already been my philosophy even before now,’ Dante thought with a slight smirk.

"Thank you for the advice, Mother," Dante said, offering a subtle tilt of his head.

Isabella nodded. She then raised her hand, and only then did Dante notice that she was also holding a black leather bracelet.

"I took this off someone," she said as she dangling the band from her index finger. "It’s an artifact that helps counter certain status effects."

’An artifact that helps counter certain status effects?’ Dante couldn’t help but smile in excitement, and his red eyes glinted with greed. ’I need that!’

He reached out to receive it, but just then, Isabella smoothly retracted her hand, pulling the bracelet out of his reach.

"...?"

Dante arched a brow questioningly.

Isabella chuckled warmly and muttered in a challenging voice, "You have become an Apostle now, which means you have crossed over to the even more dangerous side of our world. I can’t spoil you with easy gifts anymore. You need to become stronger and more experienced. You also need to know pain and pressure under fire. So, I will hand this over to Vincenzo tomorrow. If you want it, consider it a reward drop and win it from him in a Sparring Match."

"Eh?!"

Dante stared at her, and his mind screeched to a halt. ’What the byss? Vincenzo is an experienced Warrior of the Third Tier! That isn’t a sparring match, that’s placing a newbie into an end-game Raid Boss arena!’

His lips twitched. "Uh... do we really need to do that, Mother?"

She nodded without hesitation. "Yes." She smiled serenely as she closed the bracelet in her palm. "Unless you don’t want it. Then I can just give it to your sister, Francesca. I’m sure she’ll find a fine use for it."

’That’s not fair...’

Dante frowned deeply.

But as if reading his internal panic, his mother chuckled, "You’ve been training hard with your weapons every day, and I’m sure you must have gotten a decent feel for your powers by now. Just think of this as a practical assessment."

’Why did her tone sound somewhat mocking?’

Dante remained quiet.

No matter how hard he thought, the possibility of him winning that duel was almost zero.

He might as well just give up on the artifact.

’Although, she never said I had to flat-out defeat Vincenzo, but rather that I should win the artifact from him,’ Dante pondered, analyzing her words. ’The easiest path would be to just give up on the reward drop entirely. But as she said, I can just think of this as a practical assessment. Yes. I might even be able to learn a thing or two. In my experience, real improvement comes from clashing against those higher in power than you. So even if I don’t win the artifact in the end, I’ll still gain valuable combat experience.’

The corners of his lips curled up slightly.

While he was still lost in his internal calculations, Isabella raised an eyebrow amusedly. "So? What is your decision?"

"I will participate," he replied, straightening his shoulders with a grounded expression.