The first thing Dante saw when he crossed the portal was a sea of green.
Emerald and jade tones dominated the interior of the tent, casting a serene, almost mystic atmosphere. Delicate yellow accents danced along the trim and decor, like sunlight dappling through a forest canopy. Bookshelves lined the outer perimeter in a perfectly organized arc, and at the far end stood a wide desk—similar in stature to Sirzechs'—nestled beneath a high canopy of runed fabric. Arrays of arcane instruments hummed and pulsed with energy, filling the dim room with a kaleidoscope of light and sound. Some magical contraptions bubbled with alchemical mixtures, others sparked bursts of orange flame into the air in a rhythm almost like breathing. The room didn't feel still. It felt alive.
And then Dante noticed the third presence.
This had to be the associate Sirzechs mentioned. The man who stood amidst the luminous chaos was unmistakably a creature of intellect. His slicked-back hair shimmered with the same vivid green as his long trench coat, which was worn over a simple grey undershirt. The only break from the emerald theme was the man's eyes—piercing, calculating, a steely grey-blue that felt more invasive than any weapon. They locked onto Dante the moment he arrived, and he felt a prickle run along his spine.
At the center of the man's desk hovered a strange triangular object—three-sided and glowing with pulsating demonic script. It rotated slowly, humming with layered incantations in a tongue Dante didn't recognize. He could feel it. Not just see or hear it, but feel the way its rhythms pulled gently on his mind.
As the portal behind them flickered shut, the man finally looked up. The triangular construct faded and dissolved, revealing a single obsidian chess piece—a king—resting where it had floated. The piece was dismissed with a wave of the man's hand, and he rose to greet them.
"Greetings, Sirzechs," the man said, tone deceptively bland, though there was a faint spark of snark hidden beneath it. "I didn't expect to see you for a few more days. Did your little vacation bear fruit?"
Dante noted the undercurrent of sarcasm. This was a man who played with words the way Sirzechs wielded his sword.
Sirzechs chuckled warmly, clearly unfazed. "Indeed it did. The Halphas Clan's castle was too far removed from major routes. Defenses were minimal, and their support was spread too thin across too many holdings. It was ripe for the taking."
The man frowned, folding his arms. "Then why the deviation?"
At that, Sirzechs' grin returned with renewed vigor. "Do you remember the lead I mentioned? The possible cause of the crater event?"
Dante winced. Six months ago might as well have been a lifetime.
"Yes," the green-clad man replied simply, eyes already drifting toward Dante.
Sirzechs practically beamed. "I picked up the trail during a routine scouting run. The signature led me straight to Halphas' doorstep."
A long sigh escaped the man. Clearly, this was a familiar pattern.
"That explains your vanishing act. Serafall was livid, by the way. You know how she gets when you disappear without notice—especially if you came back empty-handed."
Sirzechs' grin faltered just a fraction. It was subtle, but Dante heard the whimper under his breath. Whoever this Serafall was, she had power.
"I didn't come back empty-handed," Sirzechs said quickly, eyes gleaming. "They had something—or rather, someone—far more valuable."
That was Dante's cue.
Sirzechs stepped aside, and the other man finally saw him fully. For a moment, Dante felt like he was being dissected. Not in body—in essence. The man's gaze penetrated like an X-ray through steel, reading more than just skin and bone.
"Who is he?" the man asked flatly, now looking to Sirzechs.
When no answer came, Dante stepped forward. He bowed—not gracefully, but politely.
"My name is Dante Vale Gremory. It's an honor."
Two reactions followed. First, Sirzechs lit up like a proud parent, grinning so wide Dante thought his face might split. Second, the green-haired man—now visibly shocked—staggered backward half a step.
"G-Gremory? You're a Gremory?"
Dante gave a small nod. Neutral face. Calm voice. Inside, he was already regretting using the family name.
The man stepped forward abruptly, though Sirzechs intercepted him with a firm hand.
"Careful, Ajuka. He's been through more than even we can comprehend. I found him in the Halphas dungeons. He was... held by the Old Maou Faction."
Ajuka's eyes widened.
"You mean he's been... there... this entire time?"
Sirzechs nodded solemnly. "Six months."
Ajuka turned back to Dante with disbelief painted across his face. "You had a brother this whole time? And he was in their hands?"
"He's not related by blood," Sirzechs clarified gently.
Ajuka's head snapped back. "What do you mean? He looks like your twin."
Sirzechs gestured subtly. "Think back to the crater event. The timing. The location. The fact that it happened six months ago. Now think about where I found him."
Ajuka stilled. You could see the storm behind his eyes. This was a man who didn't need long to reach a conclusion.
His voice dropped, eyes narrowing slightly. "What are you?"
Dante met his gaze, this time without flinching. He glanced briefly to Sirzechs, who gave a small nod of encouragement.
"I'm human," Dante said evenly. "And I'm the one who fell from the sky."
Ajuka stood frozen, lips parted slightly. Then slowly, his gaze softened into something far more dangerous: fascination.
Dante suppressed a sigh. Great. Another obnoxious genius with too many questions. This day just kept getting better.
There were many moments in Ajuka Astaroth's long life that had left even his prodigious mind baffled—puzzles that took years to unravel. One such mystery had been the sudden migration of the great dragons to the northern reaches of the Underworld. It wasn't until Mephisto Pheles himself revealed the presence of rare Dragon Apples growing exclusively in that region that Ajuka finally had his answer.
Another had been the curious behavior of divine energy. As the leading authority on supernatural forces, Ajuka was deeply familiar with how light worked in weaponized forms—rigid, straight, unwavering. Divine energy refused to bend, symbolic of Heaven's uncompromising laws. His studies into tainted light, the fallen angels' own warped weaponry, revealed thorned and barbed variations of the same straight-line principle—proof, in his eyes, that while the Fallen still carried remnants of divine structure, they had deviated through indulgence in sin.
But nothing in his centuries of experience prepared him for what stood before him now.
Dante.
The young man bore a striking resemblance to Sirzechs—long red hair that reached past his neck, a beard rather than a clean shave, and the air of someone who didn't quite belong in this world. His aura pulsed like a dam barely containing a flood, unpredictable and shifting from low-class devil levels to high-class and back in an endless, chaotic loop.
Ajuka could recognize unrestrained potential when he saw it. And Dante, though human, held enough latent force to make any sane devil tread carefully. If Sirzechs was to be believed, this young man had survived six months of captivity in the hands of the Old Satan Faction. That fact alone would have made him interesting. But this—this was something else entirely.
"Please, sit there," Ajuka said calmly, gesturing to the chair beside his desk. Dante obeyed, his movements cautious, his gaze sharp.
"Sirzechs said you'd help me understand what these powers are," Dante said, his voice steady despite the lack of trust in his eyes. Ajuka couldn't blame him—six months in the enemy's hands would shatter most.
"What's the extent of your abilities?" Ajuka asked, his tone neutral. He needed a starting point.
Dante didn't speak. He simply looked at a chess piece on the desk—a King. The piece trembled, then floated toward Ajuka, suspended in the air before it gently settled into his palm. Ajuka raised an eyebrow.
"Telekinesis... Is that all?"
He didn't mean to sound disappointed. In fact, he wasn't. The strain on Dante's face as he lifted the enchanted piece suggested there was a block—a restriction of some kind. Ajuka's mind began turning.
"Do you feel anything?" he asked. "Pressure in your chest? A weight? Describe it."
Dante closed his eyes.
The change was immediate. Magic surged around the room. Enchanted lanterns dimmed. Spellwork flickered and died. All energy in the space was suddenly drawn inward—toward Dante.
Ajuka's eyes widened. He turned to Sirzechs in alarm.
Sirzechs blinked, suddenly remembering. "Oh… that might explain it. Now that I think about it, the magic in Halphes territory was unusually thin. Not enough to interfere with travel, but... yeah, it felt dense."
Ajuka gave him a deadpan look. "And you didn't think to tell me?"
Sirzechs shrugged. "I forgot."
Ajuka glared. Sirzechs only grinned. "Hey, don't blame me for having monstrous power. I barely noticed the pull."
Ajuka groaned. "This explains a lot."
"Oh? Do share with the class," Sirzechs replied.
Ajuka steepled his fingers. "The boy's power is unstable, not because he lacks it, but because it's been suppressed for too long. Think of it like a cramped muscle. If the Old Satanists wanted to keep him from healing or fighting back, they likely suppressed all ambient demonic energy around him. That wouldn't drain his reserves—just lock them down. Now that he's free, he's trying to use those abilities again. But they're stiff. Unresponsive."
Sirzechs frowned. "Have you seen this before?"
"Once or twice. Never this bad. One case involved a devil who froze his right arm's magical circulation. Couldn't use it for a week. Took another to regain spellcasting ability."
"How did he fix it?"
"Low-dose channeling over several days. Risky. If we force the energy loose, we could rupture his origin. That damage would be permanent."
Sirzechs exhaled through his nose, frustrated. He had every reason to want Dante combat-ready as soon as possible. The war was escalating. Every variable counted. But Ajuka's tone had shifted—to fascination. That caught Sirzechs' attention.
Ajuka only got this way when something extraordinary was placed in front of him.
And Dante was something extraordinary.
No devil possessed telekinetic power that could disrupt enchanted infrastructure on instinct alone.
Not one.