CHAPTER 39: DEATH WEREWOLF

As Dante and Bella got deeper, the air reeked of fear and filth, but the nightmare deepened when her gaze fell on a trembling High Elf woman surrounded by a leering pack of men. The blonde lost her shit, seeing one of her race being abused caused her to let out a scream that tore through the building, a primal wail that seemed to rattle the very heavens.

He watched as she unleashed a cascade of death magic. Tendrils of dark energy lashed out, slicing through the men like a scythe through rotten flesh. Their bodies convulsed, skin blackening and curling as they were reduced to charred husks, their screams silenced in an instant.

The High Elf crumpled to the ground, her hair tangled and stained, her wide eyes flickering, full of shock and a glimmer of hope. He sensed the foul disease ravaging her body. Kneeling in front of her, he revealed. ’’The humans’ plague has taken hold, and death comes for you, woman, but another life awaits you beyond.’’

He held out his hand, offering. ’’Take this if you want that, I’ll help you get your revenge for your family’s deaths.’’

Moments later, the woman clutched the dark essence, a surge of death mana flooding her veins, twisting her very being. Her golden hair changed to an ethereal, near-translucent white, shimmering like moonlight on a grave. Her once-dull yellow eyes flared into searing crimson, pulsing with venomous hatred and newfound power.

As her form contorted into that of a Death Banshee, her anguished scream echoed with otherworldly menace, drawing a sinister grin across his face. Soon enough, the transformation was complete as a notification popped up.

[Death Banshee - Rank D]

’’Looks like you’ve grown even stronger,’’ he muttered, amazed. ’’You were E Rank before my magic changed you.’’

’’Yes, I was a simple merchant’s wife, but I was forced down here when visiting Hollowend,’’ the Banshee answered. ’’Would you do the same for my husband and harem sister? He’s in the pit after they made him watch...’’

’’Don’t mention it,’’ Dante said, holding his hand up. ’’I’ll bring him back to you, but you’ll be serving me for the rest of time? Is that acceptable?’’

Bella finally calmed down as she killed the last man, who let out a shrill scream thanks to being burned by the red fire. She smiled at them, speaking. ’’Thanks for helping her, Dante, but remember not all humans are cruel like these.’’

’’I know woman,’’ he retorted, a small smile crossing his face. ’’At least now you understand why I hate them so much.’’

’’Yes, I know and agree, but my point still stands.’’

Dante couldn’t help but laugh as the Death Banshee watched. She shook her head and asked. ’’Can I lead you to the pit, my lord? It’s not far from here.’’

Without replying, he summoned Gilbert and Raoul, who flanked him, but he ordered. ’’You two guard Bel, I’m going to do something.’’

They bowed their heads as the Banshee led him deeper into the building. He walked down some stairs only to stop dead at the bottom. There was a little bit of ground that gave way to a giant hole that he couldn’t see into, but his new undead floated above the darkness. ’’I can carry you?’’

Dante looked at the undead High Elf and laughed as he stepped off the edge, falling into the shadows, and was only stopped when the Banshee grabbed his arm, slowing his descent until they entered a cavern. He waved his arm, creating several red orbs that lit up the surrounding area.

That’s when his crimson eyes widened in horror as he saw the place was strewn with mountains of corpses, skeletal remains dominating the grim piles, evidence of Hollowend’s decades-long slaughter of countless races. The Death Banshee, her gaze sweeping over the morbid heaps, descended into a clear patch amidst the carnage.

’’Let’s turn this to my advantage,’’ Dante murmured under his breath as she let him down

Raising a hand toward the lifeless body of a Wolfman, he whispered. ’’Arise.’’

His dark magic poured into the Demi-Human’s corpse, twisting and reshaping it. The body swelled, muscles bulging, the head snapped toward him, its eyes igniting with a fierce, glowing red. The corpse transformed into a Death Werewolf, radiating feral power before letting out a ferocious howl that bounced off the stone walls.

[Death Werewolf - Rank C]

’’Master, can I go look for my husband, please?’’ the Banshee asked respectfully.

The Werewolf growled at the specter, but Dante boinked it on the head, scolding it. ’’Stop with that shit, she’s on the same side as you. Now bring me all the powerful beings. I lost a few during this attack.’’

He watched as the new undead charged into the shadows, while his eyes swept over the sea of corpses, finding only low-ranking fodder until his gaze locked onto a human male. He wasn’t going to pick him, but stopped when realizing the body was once a B-Rank warrior, who was now decayed, its flesh rotted from months in the damp embrace.

Dante approached, pointing at the corpse, and mumbled. ’’Arise.’’

Death magic surged into the decayed human, reshaping his form as the Death Werewolf dragged an Orc corpse and dropped it at his feet. He paid it no mind; his focus was on the B-Rank warrior transforming before him into something unexpected. A notification appeared, and his jaw fell.

[Death Knight - B Rank]

’’A Death Knight?’’ He muttered, bewildered and stunned, until another notification flashed into view.

[My Chosen! This is no ordinary Death Knight. Forged by a burning grudge against the people who killed him and his wife, his hatred has molded him into a ruthless killing machine. He will serve you fiercely, bound to your will.]

Dante’s eyebrows rose in excitement as the black armored knight with glowing red eyes stepped forward and knelt. ’’Master, thank you for bringing me back. May I search for the woman in charge of this foul village?’’

’’Go for it, but bring her here. I want to give her to some Orcs before you kill her,’’ he revealed, an evil smirk spreading across his face.

’’Brilliant master! That bitch deserves everything she gets,’’ the knight said, rage filling his voice. ’’She brutalized my wife, made me watch, and threw me down here to die.’’

Dante let out a low chuckle. ’’Head to the surface and slaughter the rest alongside the other Death Knights. I’ll store these bodies in the Domain.’’

He aimed his palm at a towering pile of corpses, drawing them into his shadowy realm. A grunt escaped him as the act drained his mana, but he brushed it off, continuing to pull in more bodies. The Death Werewolf lumbered forward, dropping another heap of corpses at his feet.

Moments later, the Death Banshee reappeared, carrying the body of a rotting High Elf man as she spoke, tears in her eyes. ’’This is Valandor, my beloved who died trying to protect me, but it was useless, and he was tortured before being killed.’’

She looked at him and begged. ’’Please bring him back to me, my lord.’’

’’I lost the one being I loved most,’’ Dante whispered, his voice cracking as memories of Luna flooded back, her desperate attempt at saving him, her blue eyes full of courage even as the crowds claimed her. ’’Now I’ve only realized that wolf was everything to me, and she gave her life to try to save mine. So I’ll give you back your husband, because I know the ache of that emptiness as it affects me even now, 200 years later.’’

He turned to the lifeless Elf, his heart heavy, and raised his hand to cast Arise. A crimson glow enveloped the body, pulsing like a fading heartbeat. The corpse shimmered, then dissolved in the Banshee’s trembling arms. In its place, a translucent figure emerged, dark as midnight mist, his face alight with a smile.

[Death Shadow - Rank D]

Dante was surprised, but the Death Shadow knelt, eyes glistening with eternal devotion. ’’My lord,’’ he said softly, voice full of gratitude. ’’Thank you for this miracle. I am bound to my beloved forever, and my soul is whole again.’’

He wasn’t listening as something pulled at him; it came from miles away, but he felt it. Something was telling him to keep traveling south. Without waiting, he sucked everybody from the cavern into the Domain and had the Banshee carry him out. Once outside, the slaughter was wholesale.

"Bring the Orcs here!" he roared, his voice full of venom.

A group of hulking monsters lumbered forward, their grotesque faces twisted with cruel anticipation. Dante seized the woman, her desperate struggles useless against his iron grip, and flung her toward the Orc leader, who caught her with a guttural laugh as they were pleased.

’’Have your fun with her," Dante spat, his eyes burning with a twisted mix of rage and satisfaction as he pointed at the Death Banshee. ’’Keep her alive. And take her older daughters. Let her feel the agony of those tortured in that wretched building.’’

The woman’s cries pierced the air as the Orcs dragged her and her sobbing children into the shadows, their fates sealed thanks to the atrocities they had committed to the Demi-Humans and Elves.