That battle had already dragged on.

Of course, now that Sapphire had returned to her original form, as Agares, things had become easier. Besides, she still had Amon, Phenex, and Paimon to help her, but it wasn’t easy to finish the fight.

For some reason, still unknown, it wasn’t easy to defeat Dante. It was like a cancer that kept coming back, and Sapphire had noticed that he was getting stronger, but even so... He would never be able to defeat her. Not now, not in this state, and clearly not with Ifrit pulverizing him.

"Die, you bastard!" Sapphire shouted, impaling him with such force that blood spurted into the air as the Belial spear burned internally.

Dante reacted as always~ "Hahaha!! You can’t hurt me~" he shouted, laughing like a madman.

Sapphire continued to crush and break his body in the most brutal and grotesque ways imaginable. In the distance, Vergil’s body still convulsed as he tried to regenerate, but something prevented it. It was as if the world continued to halt his evolution.

Amon looked at Vergil, then at Lilith. "What’s happening?" he questioned.

Lilith turned her face to Dante, "He is being denied while trying to become what you now call King."

Phenex looked at the boy, "And that means...?"

"That the world is deciding who is most worthy to be King. Or rather, who is worthy to receive the Blessing of the World." She spoke, looking at the cosmic skies of that world of battle of the gods.

Sephirothy looked at Vergil, and then...~ "Take Yamato back." She said, after all, Yamato was part of Vergil’s soul, besides... "Take the remaining fragments of Lucifer that are in Dante."

Seris looked at her~"Sephirothy? Why~"

"Dad won’t survive much longer~" Alice’s tired voice emerged from the rubble as she appeared walking. One hand held her injured elbow, her face had a bleeding wound, and her black hair was disheveled and bloody~ "Sorry for the delay... ~I killed Angelo."

Yes, while all that was happening... Alice simply fought against Angelo~ After Vergil used his ’Judgement Cut End’, he was injured, broken, and didn’t return to the fight.

Alice then took care of him after being stopped by Dante, who had used Yamato and cut her Supreme Magic... Alice had taken Angelo to a parallel world inside the "Gate of Babylon" she created, a world where time passed differently...

"Forty years~But I won." She spoke victoriously before falling and hitting her face on the ground. She let out a groan and forced herself to stand.

"Oh, damn it! I hate being weak like this," Alice said, before feeling a hand helping her to her feet... It was Paimon. The woman was a little nervous about the situation, but she helped her walk.

"Thank you," Alice said as she walked over to Vergil. "Help Sapphire~ From what I understand, I think the world is confusing the existence of Dante and Vergil. After all, both are Lucifer, Vergil by birth and descent, Dante by the fragments... Besides, both are Nephilim, again, one artificial and the other completely normal~ Also, Sepphirothy, stop hiding that you’re not half-angel... you are the daughter of Lilith and Lucifer. A true daughter, without the progenitor link~"

Alice almost fainted while speaking, and everyone stared at her, a girl who until a few days ago only had the body of a child and now was giving information of this level to them, demon Kings and Archons, even to a Demon Goddess.

"I’m very tired, but please~ Save my father~" She fainted in Paimon’s arms.

"Oops," she said, holding Alice’s body.

Amon looked at the girl’s body and raised his hand, making a trail of demonic energy that engulfed her body. He immediately sensed that this girl was more demon than witch.

He then forced demonic energy to heal her wounds while gently placing her unconscious on the ground.

Her breathing calmed, and she now seemed to be merely sleeping.

Amon turned to Sapphire, who was fighting well without restraint. "So, this guy will never die because the World decided so?" Amon questioned.

Lilith looked lifelessly at Dante, "He’s probably a reincarnation of Lucifer’s malice, while Vergil is Samael’s side. If what this girl said is true, probably yes." She said, looking at the sky... "I’ve never seen this happen, but... I’ve heard about this thing... ’The Voice of the World’." Lilith commented.

Sepphirothy stood up and looked at Dante.

She then sent a message to Sapphire’s mind~

[Make him summon Yamato, and steal it.]

Sapphire, dodging an attack from Rebellion, glanced quickly at Sepphirothy.

~[What do you mean? What idea do you have?]

[Steal the sword and throw it to me. We need to recover Lucifer’s fragments and return them to Vergil’s body. We don’t have time to explain.]

~[Okay, but how am I going to force him to use Yamato?]

[I don’t know, damn it! Send some undefendable attacks that he’ll have to cut through reality to dodge.]

The battlefield no longer had a fixed shape, and even with the overwhelming presence of Agares and Ifrit dominating the space, Dante still moved within that hell like an impossible-to-eradicate plague, his grotesque body contorting, regenerating, being destroyed and rebuilt in increasingly rapid and erratic cycles.

~[Understood.]

Her body vanished.

Not in terms of speed.

But in terms of authority.

She simply ceased to be there... and reappeared with Belial piercing Dante’s shoulder from top to bottom, slamming him against the ground with enough force to create a new crater that swallowed what remained of the surrounding structures, the impact causing Ifrit’s own magma to react as if it were alive.

"Hahahaha!! Yes! Yes!! MORE!!" he screamed, his voice broken, distorted, as his muscles forcibly rebuilt themselves, pulsing erratically beneath his unstable skin.

"You want more?" she murmured.

And then—

She delivered.

Her foot landed directly on his face, crushing his head against the ground with brutal force, before grabbing his face with one hand and lifting him into the air as if he weighed absolutely nothing.

"Then endure." And she threw him.

Straight ahead.

Upwards.

Towards Ifrit.

Dante’s body shot through the air like a projectile, still regenerating along the way, pieces of flesh falling and being reformed simultaneously, his Nephilim form increasingly unstable, more grotesque, as if forced to evolve without sufficient structure to sustain it.

Ifrit responded.

Not with hesitation.

But with instinct.

His colossal head tilted slightly, and then his jaws opened, revealing a core of absolute heat that wasn’t just fire... it was annihilation.

And he exhaled.

Not a flame.

But a deluge.

A continuous stream of destruction that struck Dante in mid-air, completely engulfing his body in a jet of fire so intense that the surrounding space began to collapse, distorting under the absurd thermal pressure as his figure simply vanished into the torrent.

The sound was deafening.

Like a thousand volcanoes erupting at once.

But it didn’t stop there.

Ifrit advanced.

One of its gigantic claws cut through space, striking Dante still within the flow of fire, crushing what remained of his body against the air as if it were solid, tearing it in multiple directions while the very concept of form was constantly negated.

Flesh evaporated.

Bone turned to dust.

Energy was undone.

And yet...

He returned.

Even in that state.

Even reduced to microscopic fragments.

His body rebuilt itself.

Faster.

More unstable.

More wrong.

Agares reappeared in the air.

His fist already advancing.

The impact struck Dante mid-regeneration, shattering his form completely before it could stabilize, sending him crashing back to the ground like an inverted meteor, creating an explosion that shook the entire battlefield.

She didn’t stop.

She didn’t hesitate.

She didn’t breathe.

She just kept going.

Appearing above him.

Strike.

Kick.

Tear.

Impale.

Each attack more brutal than the last, each movement calculated not to kill him... but to prevent him from even having time to fully exist.

"Where’s your confidence now?" she murmured, driving Belial back into his chest and dragging him across the ground as fire consumed everything around them.

Dante laughed.

Even without a fully formed mouth.

Even with half his face missing.

Even with his eyes misaligned.

"Hahah... haha... hah... still... doesn’t... hurt..." he replied, his voice faltering between incomplete regenerations.

Agares stopped.

For a second.

Just one.

And then—

She intensified.

The fire exploded.

The flames around her intensified in multiple layers, and without warning, she lifted Dante again—

And threw him.

Back.

To Ifrit.

"Again."

Ifrit needed no command.

This time, it wasn’t just fire.

It was a direct attack.

Its claws descended, crushing Dante repeatedly, each blow charged with enough force to wipe mountains from existence, while bursts of fire shot out at close range, like a continuous flamethrower, ensuring that every attempt at regeneration was destroyed before it even began.

Dante screamed.

But laughed at the same time.

A grotesque mixture of pain and pleasure.

His body...

It was disgusting.

Twisted.

Asymmetrical.

Parts regenerated in the wrong places.

Limbs emerged incomplete.

His torso seemed to collapse and expand simultaneously, as if trying to find a stable form... and constantly failing.

This was no longer a body.

It was a living mistake.

And Agares...

Was devastating him.

Mercilessly.

Without pause.

Without limit.

But even so—

He was still there.

Still moving.

Still... evolving.

And that...

Was exactly the problem.

The cycle had already surpassed any notion of combat.

This was no longer a fight.

It was a process.

A grotesque experiment where Dante was constantly destroyed, rebuilt... and forcibly refined. And then—

Amon lost his patience.

There was no warning.

There was no preparation.

Space simply folded—

And he appeared.

Directly in front of Dante. 𝚏𝐫𝚎𝗲𝕨𝐞𝐛𝕟𝚘𝐯𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝗺

His hand was already on his neck.

The impact of the grab wasn’t just physical, it was conceptual, as if Dante’s very existence had been interrupted at that specific point, his regeneration stalling for a rare... precious... impossible instant.

Amon tightened his grip.

His eyes, normally calm, now carried something much colder.

Much older.

"I understand." His voice came out low, firm, laden with an authority that didn’t accept discussion. "You don’t die."

Dante tried to smile.

Even with his face deformed.

Even with half his jaw still rebuilding.

"Heh... you get it now—"

He didn’t finish.

Because Amon acted.

A dark energy began to flow from his hand.

But this wasn’t just demonic energy.

It was... poison.

Not in the usual sense.

It was pure corruption.

A spiritual substance that didn’t destroy immediately, but invaded, contaminated, distorted every fragment of what it touched, like a disease made of condensed malevolent intent.

And Amon injected it.

Without limit.

Without control.

Without mercy.

Dante’s body reacted instantly.

Violent spasms coursed through him, his regeneration clashing directly with that energy, trying to reject, adapt, absorb... and failing to do any of these things stably.

His flesh began to darken.

Not burning.

But rotting.

Melting from the inside out.

Black veins emerged, spreading like living roots throughout his body, pulsing with an energy that shouldn’t coexist with anything living.

Dante opened his mouth—

And this time...

He screamed.

But Amon didn’t stop.

On the contrary.

He moved closer.

Holding on even tighter.

"Limitless strength?" he murmured close to Dante’s deformed face. "Then endure."

And then—

Another presence appeared.

Behind.

Soundlessly.

Without warning.

Paimon.

Her smile wasn’t hysterical like Dante’s.

It was... elegant.

Cruel.

Calculated.

She placed her hand on his back.

Delicately. Almost gentle.

"If he can’t die..." she whispered, her soft voice contrasting with the absolute horror of the situation, "...then let’s give him something worse."

And then she unleashed it.

Lust.

But not as ordinary desire.

Not as emotion.

It was a force.

An absolute compulsion that invaded the mind, the body, the soul... dominating everything, distorting perception, destroying rationality, transforming any form of consciousness into pure instinctive impulse.

And she poured it into him.

Without limit.

Without pause.

Without end.

Dante froze.

His body stopped for a second.

His eyes—

They dilated completely.

His breathing became irregular, chaotic, uncontrolled, his mind bombarded by impulses that could not be organized, could not be filtered, could not be ignored.

Amon’s poison destroyed.

Paimon’s lust corrupted.

And together...

They created something worse than death.

Amon watched.

Coldly.

Calculating.

"If you won’t die..." he said, tightening his grip on Dante’s neck, "...then we’ll break you."

One second.

Two.

And then—

The fire arrived.

Agares.

No.

Sapphire.

She didn’t wait.

She didn’t ask.

She didn’t hesitate.

She simply appeared beside them—

And placed her hand directly on Dante’s chest.

And burned.

But that wasn’t just fire.

It was judgment.

It was absolute destruction channeled into flame.

His body was immediately engulfed in a combustion so intense that even the poisonous energy began to react, amplifying the internal collapse, while lust continued to distort any possibility of control or adaptation.

Dante screamed.

This time—

No laughter.

No provocation.

No control.

His body writhed violently, trying to regenerate, trying to escape, trying to exist...

And failing.

Failing repeatedly.

Every second.

Every attempt.

Agares tightened her grip.

Her eyes gleamed with absurd intensity.

"Let’s see..." she murmured, her voice low, heavy, laden with pure destructive intent.

"...how much you can take."