(I have a Patreon if you want to read the next 10 chapters of this fanfiction then go to patreon.com/7_Night )
The earth groaned beneath their feet—then cracked wide open with a thunderous rumble. From deep underground, something rose. A jagged, dark stone tower surged into the open air like a fang tearing through the flesh of the land. Dust and debris spiraled off it in choking clouds.
At the tower's peak, a figure emerged.
Without a word, he leapt.
The silhouette dropped fast, landing with an impact that kicked up a ring of sand and fractured the ground beneath his feet. When the dust cleared, Dante's eyes focused on him—a tall figure with long purple hair, unnaturally smooth and flowing like liquid shadow. His eyes were pitch black, like pools of nothingness, with two glowing violet dots for pupils, staring straight ahead without blinking.
Dante tensed. He could already tell this wasn't going to be like the others.
"Well," he muttered, his voice low. "This looks familiar…"
Dante instinctively looked around, trying to spot whoever or whatever might have emerged from the crack with the new host—
But he didn't get the chance.
A sudden kick smashed into his side with explosive force, sending him flying through the air like a ragdoll. Pain bloomed through his ribs and his lungs struggled for breath as he twisted midair, instinctively trying to stabilize himself. Through the spin, he managed to glimpse the one who hit him.
Laura.
Her leg was still extended from the strike. She had kicked him on purpose.
"What the hell—?" he thought, confusion flashing in his eyes. But then he saw her face.
Tense. Alert. A little afraid. Her body was coiled like a spring, and she wasn't even looking at him—she was staring ahead, locked onto the host.
That was when Dante realized—she had saved him.
She had sensed something. Something deadly.
The sound came next. Like the crushing of metal, or the implosion of a building.
CRACK.
A brutal distortion tore through space between the host and Laura. Everything in that narrow stretch of land—the air, the sand, the stone, even the light itself—twisted, warped, and collapsed inward like it had been folded by some invisible force.
Laura was caught in it.
Her body snapped and twisted, bones and limbs bent in ways they weren't meant to, her frame contorted violently before she was thrown like a broken doll across the ground.
"LAURA!!!" Dante's voice ripped from his throat, raw with disbelief and rage.
He hit the sand hard, landing flat on his back. He rolled once, twice, the impact numbed by adrenaline and shock. His breath caught in his throat as he scrambled upright and locked eyes on the figure standing in the distance.
His heart hammered. Rage poured through his veins.
The figure took a step forward, calm and composed.
"So… we finally meet," the host said.
That voice. That sentence. That clarity.
Dante's fury paused. Not because it faded—but because something about the voice cut through it like a knife through steam.
This one spoke. Neither Owen nor the right-arm host had ever said a single word—not even grunts. Their minds were hollow, driven by the demon's will. But this one…
This one had intelligence. Presence. Will.
"How—how are you talking?" Dante demanded, his voice low, stunned.
The host tilted his head slightly, as if amused. "I think you already know who I am."
Dante clenched his teeth, a grimace building across his face.
"…Guy."
It had to be. The demon himself. He had taken the host of the eyes.
Dante didn't wait for a reply. He saw Guy's eyes glow—a faint flicker of violet—and his instincts screamed. He launched into Lancer Step, vanishing just before the ground beneath him was folded and crushed by the same space-warping force.
Everything he left behind twisted unnaturally, folding into itself.
But Dante didn't stop.
Move. Keep moving. Stay out of his sight.
He zig-zagged, Lancer Step after Lancer Step, trying to find an angle. It was draining him quickly, but a direct charge would be suicide.
I should've developed a flash-step skill… it's faster and less energy-heavy… he cursed inwardly.
Finally, he reached close range. He was behind Guy—outside the line of sight. This was his chance. He brought Rebellion down in a lethal arc—
But Guy caught it.
With his bare hand.
"What…?!"
Before Dante could react, Guy's other hand smashed into his face. Then again. Then again. Each punch landed with brutal precision, forcing Dante backward, blood spraying from his mouth as he was pummeled without a chance to block or retaliate.
His vision blurred. He was barely able to stay standing.
Guy's eyes pulsed once more—Dante couldn't dodge this time. In a panic, he held Rebellion up like a shield, bracing for impact.
The space-warping pressure slammed into the blade.
And then—Rebellion shattered.
The sound was deafening. The shock of it hit harder than any physical strike. His weapon—his partner—broken in an instant.
The impact sent Dante flying once more. He landed hard on his back, stunned and bleeding, still gripping the broken hilt.
His mind barely processed it before something crashed into him.
A heavy hand pinned him to the ground.
Dante looked up through the blur of pain.
It was the humanoid dragon.
Dante was frozen, pain still echoing through his bones as the weight of what just happened caught up to him.
"Why is he…?" Dante's voice faltered, his mind struggling to piece together the events. Then it hit him. That empty stare, that silent obedience…
"You're his master," Dante muttered. "Dammit… it's Guy."
Guy strode calmly toward him, the confidence in his steps a sickening contrast to the chaos he'd just caused.
"Good job, Alastor," Guy said casually, his voice unnervingly calm.
Dante forced himself to sit up despite the pain, eyes narrowed. "What do you want?"
Guy chuckled, a slow, smug sound that sent a chill down Dante's spine. "You already know the answer."
He knelt down in front of Dante, eyes gleaming with triumph, and reached out to grab Dante's left arm—the demon arm that had been with him since his awakening. There was a flash of blue light.
In an instant, it was gone.
The pain wasn't physical. Not really. But Dante looked down at his now-normal arm and felt the loss like a blade to the chest. His body had changed—less muscular, less striking, the supernatural edge stripped away. But he didn't care.
He smirked through the pain, looking Guy in the eyes.
"You want the body parts? Too bad. That was the only one you'll get. I destroyed the other two."
For a moment, there was silence.
Then Guy smiled. Fully. Completely. A wicked, delighted grin.
Dante's heart sank.
"Oh, Dante…" Guy said. " Are you talking about those body parts."
Behind him, emerging from the air like shadows from a nightmare, were the right arm and the legs. The very ones Dante thought had been destroyed.
Dante's eyes widened in shock.
"How… how is this possible?"
Guy straightened up, basking in his control.
"I never underestimated the champions of this planet. From the moment I was reborn, they assumed only my body parts had returned—not my consciousness. So I let them think that."
He began walking slowly toward the tower that loomed in the distance.
"I followed you, Dante. I watched each time you tore the parts away from their hosts. And when that blinding flash came—when you were distracted and celebrating—I took them. Quietly. Swiftly."
Dante gritted his teeth. "Then… why didn't you take mine back then?"
Guy glanced over his shoulder.
"Because I needed time. Time to prepare this tower… so that when I infused all four parts back into myself—I would not just return… I would ascend."
Dante couldn't believe it. All this time… Guy had been steps ahead. Every victory, every fight—it had all been a carefully orchestrated illusion.
Before he could move, Guy raised his reclaimed left arm—Dante's old arm—and pointed it at him. Flames of Life, once gentle and empowering, now turned cruel and corrupt, blasted forward and struck him.
"AAAHHH—!" Dante screamed as the flames wrapped around him, draining him, tearing into him like a thousand biting mouths. It wasn't just pain—it was agony laced with despair. His strength, his vitality—everything was being devoured.
Guy didn't even watch. He turned away and began ascending the tower.
"Alastor," he called calmly, "make sure the girl doesn't follow."
As Guy disappeared into the spiraling structure, the humanoid dragon turned his gaze toward the entrance—where Laura had just arrived.
Her eyes widened when she saw Dante's broken form. Her claws snapped out.
"It was a mistake to sympathize with you…" she growled, fury burning through her veins.
But Alastor didn't respond to her hostility. He simply tilted his head and said:
"I want to see it."
Laura blinked. "What?"
"Your memories," he said. "If you'll allow it. I want to know why he let me go."
Laura hesitated. But something in Alastor's voice wasn't like before. It wasn't hollow. There was… a sliver of sincerity.
She didn't speak. Instead, she nodded.
A soft electric spark flickered between his clawed hand and her forehead. The link was established.
And Alastor saw.
He saw her past. The cages. The pain. The training. How she had been treated like a weapon. And how—despite all that—someone had shown her a different path. Someone who didn't want to use her, but to free her.
He saw how Dante spoke. How he saw the same chains in Alastor. And how, given the chance, he would've helped.
When the connection ended, Alastor stood still for a moment.
Then he spoke.
"I know what to do now."
Alastor stood over Dante, who was still writhing in agony. The flames had subsided, but the pain had not. His breathing was ragged, his body curled in instinctive defense.
Without a word, Alastor bent down and gently picked up the broken Rebellion still clutched in Dante's trembling hand.
He looked at it for a long moment—then down at Dante.
"I will put my faith in you," he said, voice steady… and full of something new.
Then, to Laura's horror, Alastor plunged the broken rebellion straight into Dante's chest.
"NO!!" she shouted, claws snapping out as she ran forward—
—but then a blinding flash of blue engulfed the entire area, stopping her in her tracks.
When the light faded, what stood before her was not the broken, battered boy she feared lost.
It was Dante.
But not just the Dante she knew.
He stood taller, radiant, his physique sharper, muscles well-defined, posture commanding. His white hair flowed down with a slight flicker of energy running through it. His blue eyes burned with power and clarity. The handsome face that once defined him had returned—no, evolved.
(His appearance is exactly the same, but he's slightly more handsome now than before but for him slightly more with his nearly perfect appearance just made it perfect that's it so expect every character from now on to be amazed from his appearance well except for Laura right now)
And in his right hand…
…was a new sword.
([image.])
His left arm, the once-cursed demonic limb, was gone. In its place was a normal human arm—flesh and bone and his left hand was also holding the broken rebellion
Dante looked down, stunned at what he saw. He touched his chest, his face, his arm… then the sword.
But none of that mattered the moment he saw Laura, back on her feet.
Without hesitation, he ran straight at her—and pulled her into a crushing hug.
"You're alive," he breathed, his voice shaking. "I thought I lost you for a moment…"
"You already know I have a healing factor," she said calmly, though she made no effort to break the hug. "That was stupid."
"I… yeah. I know."
"I don't think this is the time for a romantic reunion," a voice said dryly beside them.
Dante froze.
He and Laura both turned to look at the sword in his hand.
"…Alastor?" Dante asked, shocked.
But the voice had changed—it sounded younger. Brighter. Filled with emotion.
"Why do you sound like that?" Dante blinked. "Why do you feel like that?"
"It's a long story," the sword replied. "One for another time. Right now, you need to move. Guy is beginning the fusion. He's still vulnerable, but not for long!"
In an instant, all warmth vanished from their faces. They turned toward the top of the tower.
Blue. Yellow. Red. Purple. The four auras of the demon body parts were swirling violently above the peak like a storm about to break loose.
Without hesitation, the two bolted forward—Dante unsummoned the broken rebellion and gripped Alastor tightly, Laura's claws gleaming in the rising sun.
At the top of the tower, Guy's eyes snapped open.
He saw them.
And his face twisted in rage.
"ALASTOR!!" he bellowed, his voice shaking the earth. "You TRAITOR!!"
He raised his arm and conjured a volley of energy arrows—dozens of them, raining down like crimson lightning.
Dante and Laura darted, dodged, jumped. They weaved through the deadly storm, but when they neared the tower's edge, they were met with sheer vertical walls.
They had no time.
No way up.
Until Dante saw it—the arrows.
"Use them!" he shouted.
Laura nodded. Without a word, they both began sprinting across the sky—each arrow solidifying just long enough for them to leap to the next, using Guy's own assault as a staircase to reach him.
Guy didn't realize his mistake until it was too late.
By the time he raised his hands again, Dante was already mid-air.
Laura on the other side.
Twin blades flashed in the sunrise.
SHHHHHHK—
Their strikes were perfect. Simultaneous.
Guy's head separated from his body—and a blinding rainbow light exploded outward.
When the light vanished, the tower was gone.
The four body parts—ashes, scattered on the wind.
Dante and Laura stood, breathless, at the base of where the tower once stood. The morning sun rose in the distance, its warmth slowly washing over the land that had just witnessed a god fall.
Dante looked down at his left arm—completely normal. Just… his again.
"It's over," he whispered, more to himself than anyone else.
Laura placed a hand on his back.
"I told you," she said softly. "Everything was going to be okay."
Dante laughed. Loud and full of life.
And for the first time in a long while, it was.
(for those that are upset that the arm is gone The cover of this fanfiction was a foreshadowing the arm that was burning in the cover that was the demonic arm. So yeah, it was planned all along and the title never said it gave me a devil arm. It gave me devil powers.)