Chapter 40: Defeating akon

Dante was already in motion. Through the grayscale vision of The Asura’s Eye of Fate, the entire chaotic explosion of fire and dust meant absolutely nothing. He didn’t see the flames. He only saw the glowing red structural flaw pulsing at the captain’s left collarbone.

He triggered Void Step.

His body vanished from the sand, leaving no sound behind. A second later, he materialized directly in front of Akon’s face, suspended in mid-air under the gravity of the floor. His right hand was completely extended, his fingers locked around the invisible grip of the Seven-Sins Asura Blade.

Akon’s red eyes shrunk to tiny dots as he saw the human appear out of nowhere. "How—"

Dante didn’t answer. He drove the invisible edge straight into the glowing red dot at the neck joint.

The sound wasn’t loud. It sounded like a small needle dropping onto glass.

For a fraction of a second, nothing happened. Then, a tiny fracture line appeared right where the unseen blade had struck. The crack didn’t stop; it rippled outward like lightning across the surface of the Magma-Core Plate. The white-hot kinetic conversion channels violently short-circuited, the stored energy inside the armor turning inward.

crack! boom!

Akon’s legendary S-rank armor violently exploded into thousands of tiny, non-lethal shards of black glass. The feedback wave ripped through the captain’s internal network, completely shattering his muscle structure and his energy core in a single second. The massive four-meter giant didn’t even have the breath left to scream.

His entire physical frame collapsed forward, his body dissolving into a pile of fine, dark soot before he even touched the ground.

At the exact same moment, the Seven-Sins Asura Blade gave a light, cool pulse in Dante’s hand. The S-rank soul of Captain Akon was instantly pulled into the hilt. Because the system mainframe was glitched, no text notification popped up to show his stat rewards, but Dante felt a solid, dense wave of pure energy expand directly into his muscles, permanently hardening his physical baseline.

Dante landed lightly on his feet, his boots landing softly. He casually shoved his right hand back into his pocket, his face returning to its usual expression.

The surrounding battlefield fell into a dead, absolute silence. The remaining few dozen northern ambushers up on the ridge stared down at the empty spot where their elite captain had just been erased. Their weapons clattered out of their hands as pure survival terror washed over them. Without a single word, they turned around and scattered into the mountains like frightened insects.

Esabella uncoiled her tail from the pillar, the jagged bone-shards flattening back smoothly against the dark skin. The massive dragon-sword in her hand shrunk back down, the fire fading away until it turned back into her regular thorn-vein whip, which she loosely hung at her hip.

She walked over to Dante, her hips swaying with that dangerous, sexy grace, her eyes locked completely onto his face. She was breathing slightly hard from the exertion, her large chest rising and falling noticeably against the tight black corset.

"That was... absolutely magnificent, Dante," Esabella whispered, a red flush coloring her cheeks as she stepped right into his personal space, her tail swaying happily behind her. "The way you opened that star eye on your finger, found his secret flaw, and broke his absolute defense without using a single drop of magic... You really are the only true King worthy of my bloodline."

Dante looked at her crazy, adoring face. "The road ahead is clear. Let’s move before more of them show up."

He turned and walked back toward the carriage, completely ignoring her praise. Esabella let out a delighted giggle, her eyes sparkling with an intense, possessive look as she followed right behind him.

The royal carriage crunched loudly as the caravan entered the deep canyon. The sky above had completely vanished, replaced by jagged black stone cliffs that leaned inward, blocking out what little light remained in the Black Basin. The air here was noticeably carrying a burning draft that made the armored lizard beasts snort in discomfort.

Inside the compartment, the atmosphere was completely silent.

Dante sat in his usual position by the window. Across from him, Esabella leaned back against the cushions, her eyes locked onto his face with that same unyielding, obsessive focus. Her tail lay quiet on the floor, but the jagged bone-shards along the spine were slightly raised, twitching whenever the carriage bumped against a stray rock.

’He hasn’t blinked in three minutes,’ Esabella thought, her lips pulling into a soft smile. ’Even after breaking an S-rank captain’s absolute defense, his energy signature didn’t fluctuate at all. What kind of life did you live up there to become this cold, Dante?’

Before she could open her mouth to speak, the entire carriage line abruptly ground to a halt.

The brakes screeched loudly against the wheels, and outside clanging of spears and shields echoed through the canyon walls. The southern demon soldiers immediately shouted in panic, their deep voices echoing off the stone.

"Halt! Intruder in the center of the path!"

"Form a perimeter! Don’t let it approach the Queen’s carriage!"

Dante’s eyes narrowed slightly. He didn’t feel any sudden influx of monster signatures or the marching of Balor’s army. It was just a single, isolated presence blocking the road.

"Stay inside," Dante said, as he pushed the carriage door open and stepped out into the black sand.

"Dante, wait," Esabella called out quickly as she immediately followed him out, her bladed tail clicking aggressively against the step. Her adoring gaze turned into a freezing look of authority as she scanned the canyon.

Standing exactly twenty paces ahead of the lead transport beast was a single human figure.

He didn’t look like a demon. He had normal ears and no horns, but his appearance was completely wild. He looked to be in his late late-forties, with long, tangled hair that hung down to his shoulders and a rugged face covered in faded battle scars. He wore no standard hunter gear; instead, he was wrapped in a crude cloak made from the red scales of a high-level volcanic drake. In his left hand, he held a long walking staff made from an ancient monster bone.

The twelve guards had their spears pointed directly at his chest, but the old man didn’t look afraid at all. He just stared through the fog, his eyes locking instantly onto Dante.