'you never learn'
Dante felt a surge of anger and defiance. He was not going to die like this without a fight… he can't lose... he has to win, no matter what… if he can't win now, then he won't ever have the chance to. He summoned all his strength and willpower with a sudden blast of mana, and pushed himself up from the ground. He summoned his astral weapon, ready to attack back.
The Grim Reaper was surprised by Dante's resilience. He expected him to give up and accept his fate. He was annoyed by his stubbornness and resistance. He decided to end this quickly and brutally. He swung his scythe at Dante's neck, hoping to sever his head from his body.
Dante saw the blade coming at him and reacted instinctively. He rolled to the side, dodging the attack by a hair's breadth. He grabbed his sword and swung it at the Grim Reaper's arm, hoping to disarm him. The metal clashed with the bone, creating a loud noise.
The Grim Reaper felt a jolt of pain in his arm. He looked down and saw that Dante had cut off one of his fingers. He was furious. How dare this mortal hurt him? How dare he challenge him? He was death itself, and no one could defy him. He roared in anger and frustration and launched another attack at Dante.
Dante knew that he was in trouble. The Grim Reaper was faster and stronger than him, and he had no idea how to hurt him. His sword seemed useless against his skeletal body. His wounds were bleeding profusely, and he was losing energy rapidly. He knew that he could not keep this up for much longer. But he refused to give up. He refused to let the Grim Reaper win. He fought back with all his might, parrying and striking with his sword.
The battle raged on for what seemed like an eternity. Dante and the Grim Reaper exchanged blows, each trying to gain the upper hand. They moved across the battlefield, leaving a trail of blood and bones behind them. They ignored the cataclysmic effect of both of their raging battles, focusing only on each other. They were locked in a deadly dance of death, neither willing to back down nor surrender.
Dante felt his strength fading away. He could barely lift his sword anymore. His vision was blurry, and his breathing was ragged. He knew that he was close to unconsciousness, but he still had some fight left in him. He looked at the Grim Reaper's face, which showed no emotion or mercy. He wondered what would happen after he died. Would he go to heaven or hell? Would he see his loved ones again? Would he be remembered or forgotten? He did not know the answers to these questions, but he hoped that he had lived a good life.
The Grim Reaper sensed that Dante was near the end of his rope. He decided to finish him off once and for all. He gathered all his power and swung his scythe with full force at Dante's chest, aiming for his heart.
Dante saw the scythe coming at him, but he did not flinch or cower. He had faced death many times before, and he was not afraid of it. He had nothing to lose, nothing to regret, and nothing to hope for. He had fought his way through countless enemies, through pain and suffering, through betrayal, and through despair. He had reached the end of his journey, and he was ready to face this challenge.
He didn't care anymore; whether he won or lost, he wouldn't fear the unknown anymore. He had come this far to not care at this point. He raised his sword one last time, unaware of the strange black mana that cloaked the weapon. It was a dark and mysterious force, unlike anything he had ever seen or felt before. It was not his own power, nor was it the power of his enemy. It was something else—something ancient and primal, something that defied logic and reason.
He met the scythe with a loud clang, and the world around them changed. Time and space warped and twisted, creating a vortex of chaos and distortion. The air crackled with energy, the ground shook with tremors, and the sky darkened with clouds. The two combatants were locked in a fierce struggle, pushing each other to the limit. The scythe and the sword clashed again and again, each strike more powerful than the last.
The grim reaper was surprised by Dante's resistance. He had expected an easy victory. He had not expected such a stubborn and defiant opponent who refused to give up or give in. He had not expected such a strange and unpredictable power that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at once. He had not expected such a thrilling and exhilarating fight, that made him feel alive for the first time in eons.
The grim reaper grinned, enjoying the challenge. He swung his scythe with more force and speed, trying to break Dante's defense. He unleashed his own power, a cold and sinister force that chilled the air and froze the blood. He was the master of death, the lord of the underworld, and the bringer of doom. He would not be denied his prize; he would not be defeated by a mere mortal.
But Dante was not a mere mortal. He was a being of non-existence.
He smiled with determination, accepting the challenge. He parried the scythe with more skill and agility, trying to find an opening in his enemy's offense. He unleashed his own power, a hot and fiery force that burned the air and ignited the blood.
The battle raged on for what seemed like an eternity, but it was only a few seconds. The two forces collided with each other, creating shockwaves that rippled through time and space. The vortex of chaos and distortion grew larger and larger, threatening to consume everything in its path. The scythe and the sword reached their breaking point, unable to withstand the pressure any longer.
They shattered into pieces, sending shards flying in all directions. The sword broke in half, falling to the ground with a thud. The scythe cracked into fragments, scattering in the wind.
The two combatants stood still for a moment, staring at each other in disbelief. They had both lost their weapons and their sources of power. They had both survived their clash.
The reaper's face broke into a smirk, and before Dante could understand what had even happened, the reaper finally spoke.
"Answer me this, Dante... are you willing to continue, even though you have already lost at this point." The reaper said as at the back of Dante, a clone of the reaper was already prepared to slice through Dante in a vertical motion… but of Dante course knew this but still didn't flinch.
"I don't care what I have to do at this very point... I won't give up."
"EVEN IF YOU GIVE UP YOUR VERY MORTALITY FOR IT... EVEN IF YOU GET CONSUMED BY THE ABYSS?"
"There's nothing left for the abyss to consume anymore." The moment Dante said that, the world around them distorted, making them both slowly get consumed by the void around them.
.
.
.
.
Everything started to reappear. but this time everything was the way it was before the fighting ever began. With Dante now facing the reaper, who was now in his old man form.
"THEN LET'S BEGIN YOUR TEST THEN..." the reaper began before pointing his hand in the direction of a great hall way, which at the end of it had a mighty gate that extended into the void ceiling. "AT THE END OF THIS HALL WAY IS THE GATE TO THE 8th STAGE OF HELL."
"BUT BE WARNED... IF YOU FAIL THIS TEST BY NOT REACHING TO THE GATE, YOU WILL BE TRAPPED HERE WITH THE REST OF THE SOULS FOR ALL OF ETERNITY." Dante's spine shook from the warning as he finally faced the hallway that stretched for miles, with the ground moving like a wave of abyssal smoke. He made his way towards it and finally reached the beginning part of the hallway. "THIS IS THE HALL OF DESPAIR... NO ONE HAS EVER CROSSED IT WITHOUT BEING CONSUMED BY THE ABYSS OF DESPAIR. LIKE A QUICK SAND, YOU WILL SLOWLY BEGIN TO SINK INTO IT IF YOU LET YOUR DESPAIR GET IN CONTROL OF YOU."
"WELCOME DANTE… TO THE WORLD OF CORRUPTED SOULS, SO NOW... LET SEE IF YOU ACTUALLY HAVE NOTHING ELSE FOR THE ABYSS TO CONSUME ANYMORE… TAKE A STEP, CHILD, INTO THE ABYSS."
Dante finally brought up his right foot. and began to bring it down into the abyss with a stoic expression on his face, but in his mind, trains of thoughts raced through it… all with the same question... was he going to sink? … Was he going to get consumed?
