Path of the Demonic Villain

Startled, Dante flinched and spun around so fast toward the source of the voice.

That was when he saw that standing before him was a young boy who looked to be around twelve years old. He had red hair that hung in messy strands, red eyes that stared without blinking, and pale skin.

There were really dark circles beneath his eyes like one who had not slept in weeks, and he was exuding crazy and mentally unstable vibes.

He was dressed in a crisp white shirt with a high collar and a dark cravat, layered under a tailored vest with subtle silver buttons, paired with slim black trousers and polished leather boots.

From the way he stood, one might think he was just a cute, timid boy with a mousy posture, but everything about him sent chills down Dante’s spine.

"Who...?"

Dante, who had taken a cautious step back, opened his mouth to ask who this was, but just then, he instinctively felt that he knew the answer to that question.

"You... you are my Blood Demon."

He finally realized.

The boy smiled and bowed his head slightly. "At your service, master."

Indeed...

A second facet Dante had learned about his ability was that his power could manifest itself in a physical form. To be more specific, his power, powered by his heart, had a consciousness of its own.

Back then after he had been unfortunate to have his head separated from his body, he had fallen unconscious just like a normal person would after suffering such a fatal blow.

But then, his power was the one who had brought him and the two other bodies to the entrance of the labyrinth.

A short moment after he had regained consciousness, he was then able to see glimpses of what had happened while he was out.

This young boy right here was his Blood Demon.

’Woah... he looks like a real life chibi.’

That was the first thought that entered Dante’s mind after he had calmed down.

He stepped forward and pinched the boy’s cheeks, then poked his shoulder, then tapped his forehead, all out of amusing curiosity.

The boy’s eyes just rolled around, following Dante’s every move without blinking, and his expression was frozen in that same unsettling smile.

After an awkward second, the boy tilted his head sideways. "Are you alright upstairs?"

Dante caught himself and cleared his throat.

The boy then stepped closer, and his red eyes searched Dante’s face. "Tell me. Were you scared earlier?"

’Yes. Goddess, yes. I was scared as fuck. Do you have any idea how it feels to have your head separated from your body?’ Dante sighed and turned around. Then he stared into the fire before answering softly. "Yes."

Hearing that, the boy’s smile slowly disappeared into a deep frown. After a few seconds, he lowered his head. "I’m sorry."

"...?" Dante turned to him and arched a brow. ’Sorry?’

The boy then clenched his small fists. "I would have tried to attack them after they did that to you. But I do not have a lot of experience and... and I was afraid. They outnumbered us and there was a high probability of them attacking our heart."

"...?"

It was quiet after that, except for the sound of the crackling logs of the fire.

Dante smiled and reached out his hand, then he patted the boy’s messy red hair. "It’s alright. You did good. I’m alive ain’t I?"

Beneath the gentle touch, the boy smiled again and leaned into Dante’s hand. "Don’t worry. I’ll try my best to make sure that you do not die. After all, if master dies, I die!"

Dante chuckled inwardly. He then turned and collapsed into the plush armchair.

Not long after, the boy walked over to the fire, crouched, and began to warm his hands. Then, he looked over at Dante and asked politely, "What are we going to do about the blood situation?"

Dante arched a brow. "...?"

The boy then looked into the fire and stuck his tongue out in disgust. "That dead woman’s blood was almost like poison to us." He made a gagging sound. "Blergh. I hate it."

"Ah..." Dante sank back against the cushions and winced from the pain in his throbbing shoulder. "So that’s why I did not fully heal."

"Yes." The boy nodded, his red eyes fixed on the flames. "You need blood from a living person. The more, the better."

He grinned and suddenly looked deranged. "Heh. I can imagine myself devouring a live person. One full of life, hopes and dreams."

Dante swallowed hard.

"Besides," the boy continued, turning his head slowly. "We used the power without any blood in my reserve. That was risky. You ran a risk of being tainted. So we have to make sure that our reserves are never empty. However...." He turned to face Dante fully with an unsettling smile stretching wide. "I’m really hungry right now. And you need to recover fully. So what do you say? Let’s go downstairs, find someone, maybe that receptionist. Invite him to the back of the building, ambush him, kill him, and drain him dry."

With every word, the boy’s voice grew more eager, practically trembling with excitement.

Dante raised a hand to stop him. "Don’t worry about that for now."

The boy frowned, his enthusiastic grin instantly turning into a sullen pout.

Dante then smiled and quickly added, "I have a fairy godmother downstairs who’ll make things easier in the meantime."

The boy arched a brow, and just then, a knock echoed on the door.

"Ah. There she is." Dante murmured, pushing himself up slightly.

In the seconds that followed, the door creaked open and Isabella walked in.

She walked over to the center of the room, holding a green bottle filled with crimson fluid.

At the same time, Dante looked toward the hearth to see that the boy had suddenly disappeared as if he was never there. The only thing that remained were invisible traces of divine energy.

"I was able to get you some blood."

Isabella’s voice drew Dante’s attention back to her. He looked to see her extending the green bottle filled with the crimson fluid.

To say that Dante was impressed would be an understatement. He reached out and took the bottle, studying the deep crimson liquid sloshing behind the glass.

"Thank you."

Isabella nodded with an unreadable expression.

She knew he would probably like to be alone right now, so she sighed and turned, then began walking toward the door.

"Let me know if you need any other thing. I’ll be downstairs."

Dante watched her leave, then closed the door behind her.

He turned back to the bottle in his hands.

’Does this mean I’ve officially been transformed into some kind of discount, brooding teenage vampire?’ he suddenly chuckled inwardly.

He opened the cork stopper and took a sniff. Then his eyebrows furrowed in disappointment. He had thought it would smell good or appetizing, like how he saw in the vampire movies and tv shows he used to watch.

But this was foul and coppery.

’Maybe it’ll taste better than it smells?’ He brought it to his lips, but almost immediately, he gagged and pulled the bottle away, grimacing at the bitter, stagnant flavor.

"Urgh! What did I expect? This is just blood and I’m not a vampire!"

Just then, the little boy’s voice sounded by his side startling him.

"Smells good, doesn’t it?"

He snapped his head to his side to see the boy leaning over while looking at the bottle with sparkling eyes.

’Is he just going to be popping out anytime he likes... He is going to give me a heart attack!’

The boy licked his lips eagerly. "I’m sure it tastes just as good as it smells. Can I please have it?"

"Yes." Dante did not even hesitate and handed the bottle to the boy.

He practically snatched it and began chugging it down frantically. The crimson liquid dripped down his chin as if it were the sweetest nectar he had ever tasted.

’That’s settled. He’ll be doing the vampiric business. My little Edward.’ Dante grinned as he watched the boy.

Just then, the lightheaded, uncomfortable feeling of blood loss he had been enduring began to fade away. At the same time, he could feel that his reservoir was finally being replenished a bit.

’That should be enough to fully heal me while not completely shoving him into hunger.’

Dante decided to fully heal himself now that he had acquired a bit of blood. He closed his eyes and muttered, "Heal me, Goddess."

When he opened his eyes again, they had turned a bright red, glowing faintly in the light of the hearth.

Unlike before when the regeneration was painfully slow, the wounds on his body now began to heal quickly, closing up until they vanished, leaving behind smooth skin as though he had never been injured at all.

Dante was left feeling in peak condition, and only then did his eyes return to purple.

The boy beside him wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve, letting out a satisfied sigh. "That was amazing! Living blood really is the best. And this came from someone powerful!"

Looking at him, Dante smiled. "I think I’ll call you Edward."

The boy turned to him and arched a brow. "Edward?"

"Yeah. Edward Mikaelson," Dante chuckled, leaning back into his armchair with a small nod. "Has a nice, moody ring to it."

The boy beamed, and his crimson eyes lit up. "Edward Mikaelson... Sounds great!"