novelraw Chapter 210: Long In The Making
Chapter 210: Long In The Making
***
Minutes earlier...
The hypocrisy of this realm was far from new to Dante. It was the standard operating procedure. A twisted normalcy that thrived under the guise of order, only painted over to hide the rot underneath.
He was staring at the devastation around him.
Dante had always known Ignotus was an irregular, a Heretic, much like Nex himself. To him, the boy wasn’t just an extremely talented student; he was the seed of their order’s downfall.
And honestly? Dante was looking forward to it.
He hadn’t interfered in Ignotus’s path, and no, it wasn’t because of the boy’s potential connection to the Gods, though it was a reason, but because he wanted to see just what would happen.
The headmaster wanted to see where Ignotus would go, what he would break, and most importantly, how Dante’s own kin—the high-and-mighty rulers of the Academy—would react when their masks started slipping.
Yet, nothing showed on the outside.
They all wore their masks well, as if the realm were unspoiled, as if the rot beneath wasn’t growing... Perhaps after this today, they would finally change their minds a little.
’We’ll see.’
Dante stood atop a mountain of rubble that stretched as far as the eye could see. And given that his eyes could see miles in the dark, that was saying something.
From his vantage point, the tunnel revealed itself, a makeshift throat of stone likely created naturally after the dungeon’s initial destruction years ago. It was dimly lit by phosphorescent moss, but to him, it appeared as bright as noon.
Behind him lay a silent testament to his temperament.
Thirty Demons, all decapitated.
Their heads were severed with such terrifying precision that it looked like the work of a guillotine, not a man. The ones whose heads had landed face-up still wore expressions of frozen shock, their stiff fingers clutching weapons they never got the chance to swing.
Plop... Plop...
Thick, black blood dripped from Dante’s hand.
He frowned, annoyed by the sound, and flicked his wrist casually.
The crimson droplets flew off his fingers, hitting the hot floor with a hiss.
’Ignotus was right... Damnation.’
He took a moment to steady his emotions.
The intel had been wrong; the situation was worse than reported.
Immediately deciding what to do, he glanced back at the empty air behind him.
"Call them in, all of them."
There was no reply, but the air shivered.
The message was received; his shadow squads would be moving.
Dante turned around and began to walk deeper into the ruin.
As he moved, his figure seemed to blur, and that wasn’t due to any spell, only his strength.
Each step carried him hundreds of meters. He moved near the speed of sound, yet his feet made no noise on the cracked floor. It defied physics, purely the result of physical strength so overwhelming that it rendered the laws of motion into mere suggestions.
On his seventh step, he stumbled upon a chamber.
It was wide, hidden under the rubble of the main tunnel.
Inside, a group of Demons was frantically setting up a banner made of pale skin, painting Arcane in black blood beneath it.
Dante didn’t know the specifics of the spell, but he remembered Ignotus’s warning.
’Awakening the terror.’
Disappearing for a moment, he reappeared on the other side of the room.
For a split second, nothing happened. But then, simultaneously, every Demon in the room fell over. Their heads slid off their shoulders, and dark blood sprayed in a synchronized mist, painting Dante’s hand once again.
He didn’t stop to admire his work but looked at the half-finished banner.
Upon doing so, he had realized what Aurelia and Ignotus did.
...This was a problem.
Dante turned and kept moving.
By step fifteen, the tunnel ended.
Rubble was stacked floor-to-ceiling, blocking the path completely.
It looked like a natural cave-in, centuries old, forcing him to stop in his tracks.
Dante pulled out a piece of parchment, a detailed map of the Burning Hollow dungeon.
He scanned it from top to bottom.
"Hm."
According to the map, the dungeon ended here.
There couldn’t be any Demons on the other side unless they went through a secret route, of course. Otherwise, they would have to dig through this, and that, in turn, would ruin whatever structural integrity remained in this tunnel.
Dante had cleared the route Ignotus had assigned to the "support team" and killed all the Demons.
Was that mission accomplished?
Would Ignotus be able to kill the weakened Demon?
Dante frowned, not believing it could have been done so easily.
Ignotus had left this route open for him to abuse for a reason.
The boy had insisted that the Demons would be most concentrated here.
Putting the map away, Dante looked at the dead end.
’...wait.’
His eyes widened.
He looked up at the rubble pile and closed his eyes, letting his massive Divinity unspool from his Soul, letting it touch upon his surroundings.
A second went by.
Thrum.
There it was, a subtle tremor.
This rubble... was a lie.
"My Gods..."
Veins bulged on Dante’s neck.
His scholarly face didn’t twist as Ignotus’s would’ve, but the air around him grew heavy enough to crush steel.
The map they had been given—sourced by his own people, verified by Academy intelligence—was based on an illusion.
They had been fed false intel!
’Another betrayal? Or was it incompetence?’
This was long in the making.
It didn’t matter.
Dante was beaming with rage.
He raised his right hand and punched the empty air in front of the rubble.
CRACK.
The space shattered, the rubble collapsed, dissolved, and faded away like mist, revealing that, of course, the tunnel didn’t end but opened up into a massive, circular chamber.
Dante almost sighed with relief. ’Almost.’
’...One more?’
He stepped through the shattered illusion.
Dante found himself standing before a ritual site.
Twenty Demons stood guard, but in the center...
The banner was already gone.
The spot where the flag should have been was pulsing with Corruption, the ground thumping.
He was late.
Indeed, they had fallen into the trap.
The Demons had chosen to awaken their Lord...
There was a lot more to it than they thought.
This wasn’t Ignotus’s fault; it was entirely his.
Dante was the headmaster; he was the one who trusted the map.
And so, he stood there, his internal world moving in slow motion.
Could he reverse it?
What was the safest option?
His mind raced through a thousand tactical scenarios in a fraction of a second.
But he didn’t need to choose.
KRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAH!
A sound like the earth tearing apart resounded in the distance.
The pulse stopped, and the heartbeat steadied.
The Greater Demon was fully awake.