novelzi Chapter 425 The Limbo
Chapter 425 The Limbo
The portal's core pulsed like a dark, malevolent heart, glowing with a fierce crimson light. The runes surrounding it burned intensely, their hypnotic and ominous glow casting eerie shadows. The eyes of the demonic faces carved into the structure shimmered like smoldering embers, locking onto anyone who dared meet their gaze.
"This is the Gate of Hell," Dante said, his deep voice resonating through the courtyard. "It will take me straight there... but because of my... contract, I'll have to endure the Infernal Cycles." He sighed, his gaze shifting toward his wives.
"I might take much longer than you expect," he murmured. "I'll have to traverse each layer before reaching the battlefield where Astaroth and Lucifer are clashing."
Suddenly, one of the portal's gargoyles began to stir. Cracks along its surface widened, and chunks of stone fell away as the creature came to life. It descended from the edges of the portal, landing with a heavy thud before Dante. Grotesque yet majestic, the gargoyle's massive wings and curved horns gleamed in the fiery light.
The gargoyle bowed deeply, its gravelly voice reverberating through the courtyard. "Welcome back, Master." Unlike their last encounter, its posture was now submissive and reverent, signaling that something significant had changed.
Dante raised an eyebrow, observing the creature with a faint smirk. "I see you've finally learned the meaning of loyalty."
The gargoyle lifted its head slowly, its ember-like eyes glowing fiercely. "Your position has been reclaimed. It is only right to serve you as it should be, Supreme Sovereign. The portal is ready for you to cross."
Alice, ever the strategist, stepped forward. "We're ready, Dante. Just tell us what you need from us."
Dante smiled—a rare moment of tenderness amidst the heavy atmosphere. "Protect this realm while I'm gone. Stay vigilant. The enemy will do everything they can to weaken our defenses."
Lyrianna, her expression set with unshakable determination, nodded. "No one will dare touch this place while we're here."
With one last glance at his wives, Dante turned back toward the portal. The runes on its surface pulsed with an almost tangible energy, and the carved demons seemed to shift slightly, as if eager to release whatever lay beyond.
Without hesitation, Dante took the first step toward the portal. The gargoyle bowed again, its wings unfurling in a gesture of respect. "May your journey be victorious, Master Dante."
The world around him warped instantly, gravity seeming to rebel against itself. Dante felt a crushing pressure on his chest as his body was pulled in every direction at once. The runes, the carved demons on the portal, even the light itself were sucked into a colorless void.
And then—impact.
Dante landed softly, as though an invisible force had guided his descent. Rising to his feet, his eyes adjusted to the landscape—a bleak, endless plain shrouded in dense mist that seemed to move of its own accord.
No fire burned here, only an oppressive silence and the melancholy of a sky caught between day and night.
"The Limbo..." he muttered, attempting to unfurl his wings. But then—
"Damn it... looks like that's not going to work," he grumbled.
"They're calling you," the figure said, watching as the voices grew louder. "Calling you to face what you fear most... what you've left behind. Limbo is not just a place, Dante. It is a mirror. And it reflects what you most wish to avoid."
Dante stepped back, the whispers intensifying. "This is nothing," he muttered, trying to shake off the growing unease within him. "I've faced horrors you can't even begin to imagine."
"Then prove it," the figure said, dissolving into a blur of shadows. "Show Limbo that you will not break."
Suddenly, Dante was swallowed by the abyss. He felt his body being dragged downward, an invisible force pulling him deeper into the depths of Limbo. The voices grew louder, transforming into screams, each whispering fragments of truths Dante would rather not face.
He fell into a void, an endless expanse of nothingness. Before him, shapes began to materialize. Familiar faces—people he had encountered during his long journey as the Demon King. Some were fallen allies, others were enemies he had vanquished. Among them were faces that gazed at him with sorrow—those he had failed to save.
"Dante..." A soft, melancholic voice echoed through the emptiness. He turned, and standing before him was a woman with golden hair and eyes that shone like the sun. She was someone he hadn't seen in a long time, someone he had buried deep within the recesses of his memory.
"Aphrodite?" he whispered, his voice faltering for a moment. The woman gave him a sorrowful smile, her presence radiating warmth that contrasted with the cold of Limbo.
"You forgot me," she said, her voice laden with pain. "You moved on, but I'm still here. Trapped, waiting for you."
Dante clenched his fists, fighting against the storm of emotions threatening to consume him. "This isn't real. You're not real."
"But I am a part of you," the woman replied, stepping closer, her voice carrying a mixture of melancholy and reproach. "I am the weight you bear, the living memory of your failures. You can keep pretending it doesn't matter, but Limbo always knows the truth."
Dante stood silent, his gaze fixed on her—a figure from his past who seemed both real and distant. His expression remained stoic, yet his silence betrayed the internal tempest. He took a step forward, his hand curling into a tight fist.
"You're nothing but a shadow," he muttered, his voice low but cutting. "An echo of what I've left behind. You hold no power over me."
In a single, lightning-fast motion, Dante raised his hand, enveloped in crackling demonic energy. He struck, obliterating the figure before him with a force that sent shockwaves through the void. The woman shattered into a cascade of luminous fragments that fell like ash, staining his skin with dark marks—indelible reminders of the past.
He stood still for a moment, his fists clenched, his body motionless. His labored breathing was the only sign of the fury simmering beneath his calm exterior. When he finally looked up, a look of pure disdain etched itself onto his face.
"I may not be sitting on the throne," Dante said, his voice resonating through the emptiness. He tilted his head back, glaring at the pulsating, oppressive sky, his power flaring to life around him. "But what makes you think you can toy with me?"
The skies of Limbo quaked in response, as though the very fabric of reality trembled at Dante's defiance. That was when he saw it—a massive figure emerging from the shadows on the horizon.
A colossal demon descended slowly, its grotesque and terrifying form towering over the desolate landscape. Its upper half resembled a muscular, imposing man with pale, veined skin that pulsed with malevolent energy. Its fiery, coal-like eyes bore into Dante with a mix of curiosity and challenge. Below the waist, its body transformed into that of an enormous serpent, scales gleaming with a metallic dark green sheen as it writhed and coiled across the fractured ground.
"Minos," Dante said, recognizing the demon with a mixture of disdain and interest. The name slipped from his lips like a curse, dripping with contempt.