Chapter Text
Eva grimaced as she gazed upon the sky over Redgrave, split apart and spilling out demons that darkened the sky with a matte of leathery wings.
Her wards around the house flickered against the onslaught, and the strain of maintaining them confined her to the mansion.
She would have to rely on her husband to clear the city of the infestation and investigate the source of the demons.
Eva had given refuge to the residents who had not been able to get out of the city in time. The mansion had never felt so crowded.
Three doctors from the local practice were spread thin trying to see to everyone's injuries and a group of chefs had taken command of her kitchen and were passing out bowls of minestrone soup.
Eva was milling around, giving blankets to the elderly, the young and anyone who looked like they needed one.
Briefly her thoughts turned to her sons who had holed themselves up in their room and she made a move to go check on them.
Only for a twinge to pull on the edge of her subconscious heralding a lesser demon who had managed to bypass her barrier to send her barreling through the front door while grabbing her emergency bottle of holy water.
She hoped that Sparda would be able to get to the bottom of this quickly. Eva didn't know how much longer she could keep this up.
Sparda ripped the Force Edge from the chest of a red empusa that had foolishly leapt at him, creating a spray of dark red blood that stained his scales.
The closer to the tear in the sky Sparda made it, the more frequently he was attacked and the stronger the demons became.
While it was inconvenient and tiring, Sparda was certain there was nothing here that he could not handle, he had sealed away Mundus himself after all.
Except for two things.
Sparda dragged in a long breath, the air tasting metallic and feeling oppressive with the weight of a pair of higher level devils.
Near the centre of the rift, Sparda could feel the hellfire energy of two demons he was not sure he could beat.
He could practically see the strength radiating from the centre of the demon hordes.
Even from this far away, Sparda could tell that these demons, whoever they may be, had terrifying strength, comparable to and possibly exceeding that of Mundus.
Sparda did not know what made him more nervous, the fact that he had barely managed to subdued Mundus with his full strength and these demons could be stronger, or the fact that these demons had somehow managed to remain concealed, that he did not know who they were, did not know their names.
Even if Sparda could not win, he had to try. For the human realm, there was no telling what such powerful demons would do if they were left unattended.
No telling what would happen to his family.
Courage gathered and breath caught, Sparda went to continue his march.
When the demonic energy that had been carpeting the centre of Redgrave disappeared.
A moment of panic followed, had the demons somehow managed to conceal their presence? Would Sparda be unable to find them? Would they go free to terrorise the humans he loved so dearly?
But, upon further inspection, the demonic energy had not disappeared, it had been... compressed somehow.
Still fierce and bright, almost blinding, but pressed into something smaller, akin to a lake's worth of water being forced through a single pipe.
Before Sparda could contemplate what that could mean, another presence made itself known.
It felt dull compared to the blinding supernovas of power closer to the rift, but so did much of everything else.
In fact, the only significant thing about it was the fact it was coming towards Sparda at an alarming speed.
The dark knight spun around to parry the demons attack, meeting it face to face as it lent its weight against the Force Edge.
The demon hesitated for a moment, Sparda took advantage of this to flare his primary, sturdier set of wings, catching the demon in its middle and sending it flying into a nearby wall, putting distance between them.
The demon was quick to get back on its feet but did not make a move against Sparda, allowing him a moment to study it.
It was about a head taller than Sparda was now, in his true form, its skin a sickly grey pallor stretched over bone.
It had multiple sets of skeletal arms wrapped around its chest in a mockery of ribs, its lower torso was a thin, pulsating membrane filled with a red liquid that Sparda had to assume was human blood.
It had two sets of long, black horns that merged into spikes that lined its spine and down its long, thin tail that had red tipped spikes on the end.
It had long, knife sharp claws and even longer, sharper teeth visible from the mouths scattered across its thighs, shins, neck, shoulders, arms and face. Though it had no visible eyes.
The arms covering its chest slowly unraveled with a series of clicks and crunches - like they had not moved in a very long time - revealing a single, large orange-red eye that scrutinized him before the arms returned to their original position covering it.
"Sparda," All of its mouths spoke at once, creating an echoing, haunting harmony that Sparda decided he did not like at all.
"If you know of me, then you know you cannot beat me." His true voice sounded odd to him, he had spent so much time in his human disguise that it had become foreign to him.
The demon laughed, "My Master's plan has worked! Rejoice!" Some of its mouths stopped speaking to click their teeth together in an irritating symphony.
The demon lunged at him again, crouching under Sparda's slash and aiming its claws for his neck.
Sparda twisted the Force Edge to block the attack and took a step back to regain his balance before aiming a roundhouse kick at its head.
It managed to throw one of its arms up to block the attack but it did little to stop the sheer blunt force of it, sending the demon sprawling across the ground with a sickening crunch.
It laughed again, half of its mouths coughing up stolen human blood, as it staggered to its feet.
"Your master? Who? Is it one of the two higher level devils? Do they command this legion?" Sparda growled in frustration when the demon only laughed harder, "What are you laughing at!?"
"You!" The demon spat, "The great dark knight, the traitor of demonkind, and you cannot even see the storm that is upon you, even with the god slayer at your doorstep!"
The demon fell onto all fours before beginning to circle Sparda, who watched its movements warily.
The demon charged at him and Sparda ran to meet it, thrusting the Force Edge at it only for his sword to be caught by one of its smaller sets of arms.
Sparda ducked to avoid a swipe from its claws but kept his grip on the Force Edge. The second slash from the demon caught him across the face, already healing cuts creating a warm trickle down his face.
One of the demon's hands grabbed his left horn and dragged him closer. Sparda fed into the momentum to headbutt the demon, causing it to release its grip on his sword.
Sparda flipped the Force Edge in his grip to drive it through the demons thigh, straight through one of its mouths.
Sparda slammed his hand into the mouth on the demon's face and curled his fingers around its teeth.
Before the demon could even think to bite down, Sparda pulled his arm back, ripping the demon's jaw from its face with a series of snaps and leaving it's tongue hanging loosely.
The demons other mouths screamed deafeningly, causing Sparda to wince as his enhanced hearing was assaulted.
While it continued to screech, the demon reached for the handle if the Force Edge, presumably in a bid to pull it from where it was still lodged into its leg.
Sparda beat the demon to it, ripping the Force Edge from its flesh with a squelch and slamming his fist, that was still holding the demon's jaw, into its face and sending it staggering backwards.
Sparda followed after the demon, the Force Edge aimed for a slash across its collarbone.
The demon rushed to meet him before, predictably, pressing itself against the ground to avoid the attack, only for Sparda to spin the Force Edge in his palm, redirecting his attack to the floor.
The demon rolled at the last second, not fast enough to avoid his blade entirely, but fast enough for its arm to be skewered instead of its chest.
When Sparda made a move to crush the demon's head under his foot, the demon struggled and squealed, ripping off its own arm in order to scurry away.
Sparda did not let up in his assault, grabbing the retreating demon by its tail and using it to lift the demon over his head and slam it into the floor.
In seconds he was pressing his knees into the demon's back, grabbing its horns to pull its head back in order to press the force edge against its neck, just beneath the bloody mess of its face.
"What do you mean by god slayer? Explain yourself!" Sparda roared in the demon's ear.
It squealed like a dying rat, claws raking desperately against his arms. Sparda pressed the Force Edge harder against its neck, drawing blood.
"I mean it as it has been said, little knight!" Sparda pressed his sword harder against its neck, just to hear it choke for the audacity of calling him that.
"The one you speak of, the one I'm sure whose strength you can feel, he has defeated despair embodied! He has killed the chaos!"
It seems that much has happened in the demon realm since Sparda had sealed it off. A competitor for the throne had appeared and taken it from Argosax himself.
Sparda found it odd that Argosax had been defeated and presumably killed and he had not known about it.
No whisper among the lower demons who make it through to the human realm, no change in the frequency of demon attacks and no sudden power vacuum. What was going on in hell?
This was bad, it was one thing if a demon was as strong as Mundus, another thing entirely if there were two who had the strength to kill Argosax.
Sparda would have to separate them if he was going to defeat them, or get them to attack each other somehow.
"Who are they? I want names!" Names held power over demons, and Sparda would need every advantage he could get if he hoped to defeat these devils.
Besides, he was curious about the identities of demons that were so strong and yet he had never heard of them.
The demon laughed again, shrill and gurgling all at once, "Their names are a sigh on a hurricane! They hold no power against them! You could tear their names from their throats but it will not prevent them from tearing out yours!"
The demon's voice dropped to a conspirital whisper, the mouths on its shoulder still giggling as if they could not stop, "But I know some names that hold power over you."
"My name is no secret, you don't have the power to take it from me."
"Not yours. No. Never yours. Two names! Only two words to bring you to your knees! To do what even Mundus could not!" The demon shivered under him, as if it was taking pleasure from this.
"Just two words! Two words to destroy you! Would you like to hear them?"
Sparda stayed silent, he did not like the direction this conversation was taking.
"Two names of two boys! Dante and Ver-"
The demon could not finish its sentence for the red gash across its neck, severing the chords in its throat and spilling its contents onto the tarmac.
Sparda pushed himself away from the corpse already turning to ash, forcing himself to breathe.
How did it know about his sons? What other demons knew about them?
Were they safe anymore?
Sparda turned his gaze to the wound of the sky. He needed to close this up first. Dante and Vergil would be safe in the mansion for now.
He would get them to safety, somewhere far away from here, once Redgrave and the rest of the human realm were safe once more.
Dante curled up tighter around himself as the sound of dragging metal drew closer to the pile of rubble he was hiding beneath.
He couldn't breathe and tears stung his eyes.
He should have listened to Vergil, he had told Dante this was a bad idea!
He just wanted to watch his Dad beat up some demons, that was all! It wasn't meant to go like this.
A few minutes after he had snuck out of the house and dragged Vergil with him, some scary skeleton looking things with scythes and some mutated lizards had jumped out at them before they could find their Dad.
Dante had run and hidden, but the scary things had followed him!
Vergil had dropped his book and gone back to get it. Dante hoped that he was okay, but he was too scared to go look for him.
Dante held back a sob. If he started crying now, those evil demon things would find him and he would be dead meat!
He wanted his Mom and his Dad. They would protect him! They always knew how to make him feel safe.
Dante could hear the demons now, they were groaning and their limbs made cracking noises as they moved.
This was it, any moment now they would find Dante and eat him, or whatever it was that demons did to little boys.
Dante could feel himself shaking.
Then there were footsteps, then the clash of metal on metal.
Dante dared to peak out from his hidey hole, his Dad had come to save him!
Dante rushed out and ran at his Dad, clutching onto his coat and sniffing.
"Dad! I was so scared! I - I thought I was gonna die!" Dante let his tears run freely now he knew he was safe.
But his Dad didn't hug him back. His Dad always hugged him back.
When he forced his eyes open, his teary vision didn't reveal the signature purple of his Dad's coat, but a deep blue.
He squeaked and stumbled backwards from the stranger, falling onto his butt.
The stranger looked like his Dad, but he had short slicked back hair unlike his Dad's long ponytail and was holding a long curved sword that was not his father's sword!
The stranger stared at Dante in bewilderment before he knelt down and silently offered his hand to Dante, Dante noticed the bags under his bright blue eyes which solidified that this wasn't his Dad - his Dad had never looked so tired.
Dante considered the strangers hand, he wasn't supposed to talk to strangers, his Mom said so! But this stranger had saved him, which meant he wasn't a stranger anymore.
Conclusion made, Dante took the person's hand and pulled himself back into his feet.
"Sorry, you look a little bit like my Dad," Dante pointed at the person, "Did you kill all those bad guys."
The person looked around at the piles of ash around them as if seeing them for the first time, "I did." He says.
His voice was nasally, "You kinda of sound like my brother!" Dante placed his hand out to be shaken because it was how his Dad taught him to introduce himself, "My name's Dante! What's yours."
The person considered Dante's hand before taking it and shaking it once, "You can call me V."
"That's a weird name."
V looked at him oddly before he let go of Dante's hand and straightened out again, turning around to survey the area.
V started walking and Dante had to jog to keep up with his long strides.
"What are you doing out here all alone?"
He wasn't alone he had-
Dante gasped, he had forgotten all about getting separated from Vergil!
"We need to find my brother!" He rushed to stand in front of V, stopping him from going any further, "He's in danger! You're strong right?"
Dante waited for V to nod in confirmation before the young boy continued, "Then you'll be able to save him!"
Dante grabbed V's hand, trying his hardest to drag the man in the direction he was fairly certain he had been chased from.
"Why do you care?" V's voice was thick with an emotion that Dante couldn't be bothered deciphering.
Dante scoffed, was this guy dense?
"Because he's my brother, idiot!" Then, quieter, "I'd be upset if he got hurt."
Dante didn't look at V while he continued trying to drag him, this guy must be really heavy because Dante was super strong!
After a few moments, Dante fell forwards as V let himself be guided in the direction Dante was nearly certain his brother was in.
Vergil clutched his poetry book against his chest, staring up at the four demons that approached him, clicking their claws together menacingly.
He had read about these demons.
He wasn't supposed to read about demons, Mother didn't like it, but he had seen a sketch of them in an open book on his Father's desk when he had gone into his study one day.
Father had picked him up and placed him in his lap, closing the book when he caught Vergil looking. He had snuck into the study that night and stolen the book.
He still hadn't figured out what had tipped his mother off and caused her to tell him off for taking his Father's stuff in the morning.
They were called Riots, a species of reptilian lesser demons with retractable claws so sharp they could cut steel, but were relatively brittle and could be broken.
Not that there was any way for Vergil to act on that information, he was too small, too slow. Too weak.
Vergil backed up until his back hit the brick wall behind him.
After he had been separated from Dante, the demons had chased him all the way through town till Vergil had stopped recognising the alleyways and had inevitably made a wrong turn.
There was nowhere to go. He was cornered.
He was going to die here.
And there was nothing he could do about it.
The realisation locked up his limbs and made his heart stutter painfully in his chest, he could distantly feel himself shaking and the sting of tears in his eyes.
The Riots hissed at Vergil, their long blue tongues flicking out like snakes.
Vergil scrunched his eyes closed and tensed as he curled up as much as he could while standing, waiting for the strike that would end him.
But it never came.
The hissing of the demons stopped, replaced by the humming of... An engine?
As if spoken into reality, a man on a motorbike drew over a pile of rubble at full speed, sending himself flying into the air over the Riots that immediately turned their attention to him.
His red coat billowed after him as he jumped off his motorbike, the entire vehicle shifting as he tore the handles apart from each other.
Vergil took a moment to realise that the motorbike had turned into two ridiculously large swords.
The man embedded the one of the swords into the one of the Riots back, swinging the other in a wide arc that caught two of the demons that could not get out of the way in time.
He revved the sword that was still embedded into the Riot, causing the wheel to spin against its scales and propel the sword, and him along with it, out of the now dissected Riot and towards his next victim.
In a flash of red light, the swords were replaced by gauntlets. His first punch knocked a Riot back, the second was an uppercut that launched it into the air.
While the first Riot was in the air, the man in red dashed forward so fast that Vergil could not track his movement, reappearing between the two remaining demons.
The demons lurched at the man and viciously swung their claws at him, but he evaded the attack by flipping onto his hands and then spinning to kick the demons and push them back.
Reaching under his coat, the man pulled out two pistols and began firing them rapidly at one of the demons that squealed and fell to the floor, unmoving.
He turned his attention to the other demon and, with another flash of red light, there was a large, two handed sword with a clawed crossguard in his hands.
The man rushed at the demon so quickly that it had seemed he had teleported and swung upwards, slicing the demon cleanly in two.
Finally, the stranger turned to Vergil. He smirked and threw up a lazy salute before raising his sword above his head, just in time for the demon he had launched into the air to fall back down and get skewered on the waiting blade.
The stranger yanked the sword downwards in front of him, causing it to cut through the body that then fell onto the floor at his feet with a splat.
Sheathing his sword on his back, the stranger approached Vergil who searched desperately around himself for an avenue of escape from this terrifyingly powerful man.
But the man did not attack him, he didn't even get that close to him.
He just crouched down a few metres in front of Vergil and spoke in a soothing tone, "Hey kid. Watchya doing out here in the middle of a demon apocalypse?"
Vergil bristled at that, "Whatever is happening is not an apocalypse." Vergil scoffed, "And even if it was, my Father would stop it."
The man laughed, Vergil hated being laughed at.
"Come on kid, let's get you back to your parents," the man held out his hand and smiled gently at him. Vergil puffed up his cheeks in indignation.
"I am not a kid!" The man raised an eyebrow at that but Vergil continued anyway, "Besides, I can't trust you. I don't even know your name."
"I don't think you really have a choice right now," the man pointed out and Vergil hated that he was right, but that wasn't going to stop him from being stubborn.
When Vergil didn't take his hand, the man sighed. "The name's Tony." He sounded defeated, good.
Vergil regarded the man, Tony, for a second longer before nodding to himself and striding past the man, ignoring his still outstretched hand.
Vergil took in his surroundings, trying to remember which way he had come from before he took off down a street lined with storefronts that had been wrecked.
He could hear Tony's footsteps following him before the older man spoke up, "You know that's not the way back to the mansion, right?"
"Then it's a good thing I'm not going back to the mansion." Vergil stated. How did he even know he lived at the mansion? Hs family was quite private.
Tony's brow furrowed and he stepped around Vergil to block his path. "You know it's dangerous out here, don't you know? Don't tell me those Riots hit you on the head too hard."
Vergil glared up at the red clad man, "I'm not an idiot so don't treat me like one. Of course I know it's dangerous."
Vergil met the man's eyes, determined, and found a glint of curiosity in Tony's gaze.
"Pray tell, what are you hoping to gain by staying out here?" The man questioned.
Vergil broke eye contact, instead choosing to inspect a crack in the tarmac beneath his feet.
Vergil grumbled under his breath, hoping Tony would drop the subject and not drag him back to the house.
"What was that?" Damn this man for being tenacious.
Vergil kicked a rock by his feet, "My brother's out here."
Vergil had warned Dante it was dangerous, but he wouldn't listen. Vergil should've found a way to convince Dante to stay in the house, then they wouldn't be in this situation.
"Why didn't you start with that?" Tony replied cheerily and Vergil's head whipped up to stare at the demon killer in bewilderment.
"Come on, I'll help you look." The man turned and waved for Vergil to follow as he continued down the road they were walking.
Vergil had to run to catch up with the man but didn't complain. He would find Dante quicker with two people, and when Dante had been attacked by demons, every second counted.
This whole ordeal had begun when Vergil and Dante had been killing time in hell by hunting down the demon Azazel.
Azazel was not a particularly powerful demon, but he was crafty and had a hunger for arcane arts.
It should have been an easy hunt, but Vergil had underestimated Azazel's magic.
He had come to realise this when he had been ambushed by a younger version of his brother.
It was foolishness to have thought that Azazel's plans stopped at marching a demon army into the human realm.
Vergil had spent the time being dragged around by the smaller version of his directionally challenged brother, studying him until he was certain he was not another wayward creation of Mundus.
It was unlikely, to find a way out of hell without the protection of its creator it would have to be incredibly powerful, and yet Vergil barely felt any demonic power radiating off of it.
Though the boy had enough demonic energy to mark him as inhuman.
Besides, if it was a servant of Mundus, the demon king would have certainly used it against him during his time as Nelo Angelo.
He couldn't be the same Dante he had hunted down Azazel with either, de aged and brainwashed, as he could still feel the wildfire of his demonic energy somewhere nearby.
That could only mean that Azazel had managed to get his hands on some kind of temporal displacement spell.
The question is, was Vergil in the past or was young Dante in the future?
When Dante had stopped dragging him at a crossroads to deliberate which way to go, Vergil took an opportunity to look around.
Vergil had recognised the city as Redgrave almost immediately, due to having traversed it intensively during his time as V.
The storefronts looked wrecked and did not offer many clues to the time period based on their wares alone, mostly because nearly all of their wares were unrecognisable thanks to the demons running amok in the city.
He did not recognise any of the shop names from when he was V, but he was unsure if this was because he had not been here or if they had changed.
Vergil was ripped from his musing when a powerful presence washed over him.
Almost reflexively, Vergil dropped into a defensive stance, ready to be attacked.
The Yamato hummed something incomprehensible from its place in its saya, Vergil was too distracted by the dark figure that dropped from a nearby rooftop to decipher what it was saying.
The younger Dante ran towards the figure and Vergil sprinted to stop him, but even with his breakneck speed, Dante was already considerably closer to the demon than Vergil.
When Dante squealed out a delighted, "Dad!" Vergil skidded to a stop, in a ready position still.
Just because Dante recognised the demon as his Father did not mean it actually was Sparda. Vergil had learnt that the hard way. Multiple times.
Vergil watched helplessly as the demon quietly ushered the young half demon behind him.
"This guy saved me Dad! I would be mince meat without him, and he's helping me find Vergil." Little Dante pointed a tiny finger at him.
"Your brother is out here too?" Sparda whispered to the mini Dante, stricken.
Then he turned his gaze to Vergil, "Then I will have to make this quick." He drew a sword he recognised as the Force Edge.
Shit.
From his time, the Force Edge had evolved into the devil sword Sparda which had fused with Rebellion to create the devil sword Dante.
From the time he estimates the younger Dante to have come from, it was still being wielded by his Father.
Which could only mean, "You really are Sparda." Much to Vergil's disbelief, so he let his stance relax slightly.
Sparda resolutely ignored him, "Your presence cannot be hidden from me, devil."
Vergil sighed heavily, "I am not your enemy and we have more pressing concerns." Namely finding his own younger version and closing the rift to hell.
Vergil met Sparda's glare coolly, "It would be foolish to start a fight here." Vergil pointedly turned his gaze to the very confused looking Dante at Sparda's feet.
Sparda snarled at him, "No matter how well you manage to conceal it, I can still sense Mundus' power on you," Vergil had to stop himself from flinching.
Vergil could think of two reasons for that off the top of his head, neither were very savoury.
"I cannot let you report back to your master."
Vergil snarled back at him, letting his stance drop lower again, "I have no master."
Guess they were doing this.
When Sparda had felt the two devils move apart from one another, he knew it would be the best opening he would get.
He had rushed to the nearest one, intent on defeating the devil before the second one could return.
But when he had arrived, he did not see a towering higher level demon as he had expected.
Instead, he was met with his younger son and...
Himself?
No not quite, the man before him had the same unnatural white hair and piercing blue eyes as his human disguise, but he was not an exact copy.
His jaw was sharper, his face slightly more rounded, his lips a little fuller.
Dante ran to him and for a moment, the Dark Knight was consumed with ensuring his son was uninjured.
"This guy saved me Dad! I would be mince meat without him, and he's helping me find Vergil." His youngest proclaimed.
"Your brother is out here too?" They were supposed to be at the house, safe with Eva!
Sparda turned to the man who looked like him. His hair was slicked back and he wore a long blue leather jacket over an interestingly patterned vest.
He had dropped into a defensive stance, one hand on the hilt of the katana he held at his side.
His demonic energy was carefully arranged in his chest - an arctic snow storm, condensed and sorted into a tight lattice in his core.
Faintly, at the centre of the man's demonic power was something dark and angry, something that he had only seen in Mundus.
Of course this was all a ploy for revenge from Mundus. He must have found a way to control these demons and disguise them like Sparda to get close to his family.
He would sooner die than let this demon hurt his children.
Distantly, he heard himself reply to Dante, "Then I will have to make this quick." And with that, he drew the Force Edge.
It was the truth, he had a feeling that if he let this battle drag on, he would be met with defeat - and he still had to find Vergil.
He prayed to whichever god that was willing to listen to a demon that his oldest was unharmed.
The demon's eyes flicked over to the Force Edge and he exclaimed in disbelief, "You really are Sparda."
He had to admit that the demon was a good actor, if nothing else. Though it seemed to be cocky enough to even marginally relax its rigid stance.
"Your presence cannot be hidden from me, devil." Sparda did not know how the demon had let its demonic energy expand and condense so dramatically, but it would not allow the demon to escape.
The demon sighed as though Sparda was being ridiculous, "I am not your enemy and we have more pressing concerns."
Sparda wanted to laugh, not his enemy! What a joke. Any servant of Mundus, any demon who wished for the end of humanity, was an enemy of Sparda.
"It would be foolish to start a fight here." The demon looked at a space behind Sparda that he assumed was where his son was stood - he was not stupid enough to take his eyes off such a powerful adversary.
"No matter how well you manage to conceal it, I can still sense Mundus' power on you," That got a reaction from the demon.
He almost felt bad for the demon, Mundus had no doubt cheated his way into having such a powerful plaything.
But he had been spending too much time with humans that saw goodness in everything. No matter how this demon had become Mundus' lackey, it was still a demon and would slaughter him and his family without remorse if he gave it a chance.
"I cannot let you report back to your master." He informed the demon. He knew too much - had seen his son - he could not be allowed to live.
The demon seemed to understand that his charade had been exposed because he snarled in a way that no human could and widened his stance, ready for battle.
"I have no master."
Doubtful. No matter how much freedom you think you have, it means nothing under Mundus' rule.
The demon unsheathed its katana slowly and purposefully, as if making a show of the action.
Sparda ran forwards in a bid to strike first, but the demon was faster. It practically teleported in front of Sparda, slashing at him in a flurry.
Sparda was forced onto his back foot, twirling his blade to parry the attack and push him back.
He didn't let the demon recover and rushed towards it.
But it didn't move forward to meet his strike, instead it spun to avoid his attack and jumped back to put more space between them.
Then the demon sheathed its katana before unsheathing it again so fast even Sparda struggled to track the movement.
Then the air - no, space itself split, shattered like glass. Sparda was barely able to roll out of the way.
Sparda only knew of one weapon that could do such a thing. But it couldn't possibly be the Yamato - that sword was tucked away safely in his home.
Before Sparda could consider the repercussions of the existence of another space rending weapon, a series of ethereal, glowing blue swords appeared above him that forced him into motion once more.
Sparda raced to the nearest building and jumped off the side of it to gain height, being forced to practically dance to avoid the swords as he did so.
Sparda landed with a downwards slash aimed for the man, but the man used his sword to deflect the blow.
For a chilling moment, their swords bounced off each other, leaving them both wide open.
Sparda thrust out with the Force Edge, catching the demon in the shoulder, causing him to let out a grunt of pain.
Suddenly, the demon was wearing gauntlets and aimed a bruising uppercut at Sparda, sending the Dark Knight flying backwards and into the air.
Sparda spun mid air to deflect another set of blue swords that flew at him from every direction but the demon jumped up to meet him in the air, spinning forwards to kick at Sparda.
Sparda flared out his wings to balance himself and stay in the air, catching the demon by his leg and dragging him in a wide arc through the air before slamming him into the ground.
Before the demon could recover, Sparda fell onto him, slamming the Force Edge through the demon's chest.
From its place on the floor, the demon kicked Sparda's midsection, winding him and sending him flying backwards with his sword still firmly planted in the demon's chest.
The demon ripped the Force Edge from its chest and stood up, the wound healing immediately.
Sparda watched in mild horror as the demon's gauntlets disappeared and he instead brandished the Force Edge at him.
Sparda crouched low, hissing as he prepared to fight unarmed against a demon who was wielding his most powerful weapon with shocking familiarity.
"Dante!" Both demons turned to the source of the sound as Sparda's oldest son ran to hug his brother from where he had been standing along the sidelines.
Sparda wasn't able to take advantage of the demon's momentary distraction as he suddenly found himself riddled with bullet holes as a piercing white hot presence appeared.
In less than a second, Sparda found himself on his back on the crumbling floor, boots pressing into his arms and preventing him from moving.
The second demon slammed his greatsword into the ground mere inches from his face.