The air in the classroom smelled like old parchment and desperation. To Dante, it was suffocating.
He sat in the back row, slouched so low his spine was practically horizontal. His white academy uniform shirt was unbuttoned halfway down, revealing a chest that looked like it had been sculpted by a god who specialized in violence and aesthetics. He didn't take notes. He didn't look at the holographic board. He just stared out the window with heavy, hooded eyes.
"Dante! Are you even conscious?"
The scream came from Professor Graw, a man who looked like a wrinkled prune in a suit. He slammed a heavy textbook onto Dante's desk. Bang.
Dante didn't flinch. He slowly tilted his head up. His eyes were a piercing, unnatural silver—the kind of silver that made people feel like they were being judged.
"I'm conscious, Professor," Dante said, his voice a smooth, low baritone that traveled through the room like a physical hum. "I'm just wondering why you're spending forty minutes explaining Level 1 mana-veins when I could finish my nap instead."
The class gasped. Several girls turned in their seats, their eyes lingering on the way Dante's muscles rippled as he stretched.
"You arrogant brat!" Graw's face turned purple. "Your System Rank is a 1. A literal one! You are the bottom of the food chain! You should be begging for every scrap of knowledge!"
A level 1, Dante thought, his inner smirk invisible. If I let my actual power leak for even a second, this entire continent would be reduced to a crater. My old man really picked a pathetic place for my 'exile.'
"Get out!" Graw pointed a trembling finger at the door. "Go to the courtyard and meditate on your uselessness!"
Dante stood up. He was a head taller than anyone in the room. He didn't look angry; he looked bored. As he walked down the aisle, his shoulder brushed against a "High-Tier" student who tried to block his way. Without even trying, Dante's natural aura sent the boy stumbling into a desk.
Dante didn't look back. He had bigger problems.
He made his way to the Forbidden Roof—a place restricted to teachers. With a simple flick of his finger, the magical lock disintegrated into dust. He stepped out into the cool air, leaning against the stone railing.
Suddenly, the world went silent. The sound of the wind died. The clouds in the sky froze.
"Show yourselves," Dante said, not turning around. "The 'hidden observer' act is getting old."
Two ripples appeared in the air.
On his left, a pillar of pure, blinding white light erupted. From it stepped Seraphine.
She was the Queen of the Heavens, and she looked the part. She stood six feet tall, draped in translucent silk and silver plating that hugged her divine curves. Her hair was liquid gold, and her eyes were a cold, icy blue. She smelled like ozone and expensive lilies.
On his right, the shadows bled like ink. Lilith, the Queen of Hell, stepped out of the darkness. She was wearing a "dress" made of living shadows that clung to her hips and heavy breasts like a second skin.
Her skin was a pale, creamy porcelain, contrasting with her dark horns and the mischievous smirk on her red lips. She smelled like musk, cherries, and trouble.
"Prince Dante," Seraphine began, her voice formal and stiff. "The Void-Beast has awakened. It is eating the stars. The Heavens are failing, and we know your father stripped you of your title, but—"
"But you're desperate," Dante interrupted, finally turning around. He looked at the Queen of Heaven with a predatory gaze.
"You didn't come here for a 'Prince.' You came here for a weapon."
"We came for a savior," Seraphine corrected, her cheeks flushing pink under his intense stare.
"I don't do 'savior' for free, Seraphine," Dante said, his voice dropping an octave.
"Oh, ignore her, Dante darling," Lilith interrupted. She didn't stand back like the angel. She purred as she walked toward him, her hips swaying with a hypnotic rhythm.
Lilith stepped into Dante's personal space, pressing her body directly against his. She was shorter than him, which meant her face was level with his chest. She looked up, her tongue darting out to lick her bottom lip.
"The Heavens want a soldier," Lilith whispered, her hands sliding up Dante's arms, feeling the hard, dormant power beneath his skin. "But Hell? Hell just wants to reward you."
She moved behind him, her chest pressing against his back, her arms wrapping around his waist. Dante felt her nimble fingers unbuckling his belt with practiced ease.
"Lilith! Stop this indecency!" Seraphine cried out, though her eyes were glued to the scene.
"Why?" Lilith moaned, her face buried in the crook of Dante's neck. She took a deep breath of his scent. "He's so... thick with power. Don't you feel it, Seraphine?
He's been holding it in for so long. He needs a release."
Lilith's hand slid lower, slipping inside his trousers. Dante's breath hitched, but he didn't pull away. He was a Prince of Chaos, after all. He liked the fire. Lilith's fingers were talented, finding his heat instantly. She let out a jagged breath as she felt him grow heavy in her hand.
"He's mine," Lilith hissed at Seraphine, even as she continued to work her hand rhythmically, her body shuddering against Dante's back. "Look at him. He doesn't want your prayers. He wants this."
Dante reached back, grabbing Lilith by her hair and tilting her head back. He looked over his shoulder at her, his eyes glowing with a dark, arrogant light.
"I'll save your world," Dante said, his voice vibrating through Lilith's body, making her legs go weak. "But when the Void is dead, I'm not going back to my father's kingdom."
He looked at Seraphine, who was trembling, her hands balled into fists at her sides.
"I'm staying here. And the two of you?
You'll be the jewels of my collection. You'll serve me in the light, and you'll serve me in my bed. Do we have a deal?"
Lilith, breathless and still holding onto him, let out a choked laugh. "Oh, My Prince... I was hoping you'd say that."
Seraphine looked at the sky, then at Dante's arrogant, handsome face. She closed her eyes and bowed her head. "If you save my people... I am yours."
Dante pushed Lilith away, though he lingered on the feeling of her touch. He adjusted his clothes, his face returning to that cold, bored mask.
"Good. Now, get out of here. I have a 'Combat Test' in ten minutes, and I think I'm going to fail it... loudly."
The Queens vanished, leaving only the scent of lilies and sex in the air.
Dante looked at his hand. A tiny spark of black lightning danced between his fingers.
"Time to play the weakling one last time."