My Blood Legacy: Reincarnated as a Vampire

Dante watched Loki closely, his mind analyzing every movement with precision.

'He's no longer a god, just a husk of what he once was. Still, a divine soul... I'll need to be cautious of his attacks,' Dante thought, his sharp eyes observing Loki. 'Considering Hell recognizes me as evil, that green light must be devastating against me. It would likely burn my essence without effort.'

His gaze shifted to the spear in Loki's hands. There was no mistaking the weapon. 'A clone of Gungnir... but the real one is with Valentina,' he mused, narrowing his eyes. The resemblance was perfect, but Dante could spot a fake. Even so, the power radiating from the replica wasn't something to dismiss.

Dante stepped forward, a dangerous smile spreading across his lips. "Well, let's play, God of Lies." His voice dripped with mockery and challenge. He extended his hand, summoning his legendary sword. Rebellion appeared, its dark presence contrasting sharply against the bright energy of Loki's weapon.

"Alright, girl... transform," he commanded, his voice firm. Rebellion began to shatter, shards of its blade falling like glass as a dark energy enveloped it. The sword morphed, reshaping itself into a sinister, menacing spear. Its dense aura pulsed like a shadowed heart.

Dante twirled the new weapon in his hand, testing its perfect balance. "Ex-Rebellion, huh? Not bad..." He smirked, admiring the masterpiece. "Clovis really knows how to craft deadly weapons. I think this beauty will do just fine against you, Loki."

Loki remained silent for a moment, his gaze fixed on Dante's new weapon. The tension in the air grew heavier, like the calm before a storm. Neither of them showed any sign of backing down.

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"You've chosen the worst weapon to use against me," Dante taunted, spinning the spear skillfully in his hand, a cold smile playing on his lips. "After all... I was trained by a grandmaster in spear combat. And just so you know, I've wielded the real Gungnir before. Your little copy... it's nothing but a faint shadow."

Before Loki could reply, a flash of dark energy erupted between them. Dante's movement was so fast that even the god couldn't react in time. In the blink of an eye, Dante's spear pierced Loki's chest, cutting through him as if his divine armor were mere paper.

Loki gasped, a rough sound escaping his lips as he stared at the sinister tip of the spear protruding from his back. The weapon pulsed with dark energy, draining what little power remained in him. His disbelieving eyes locked onto Dante, who stood calm and satisfied.

"You talk too much, Loki," Dante muttered, his voice dripping with disdain. "But your words carry no weight here. You were a god once, but now... you're just a shattered fragment of your former glory. A lost soul, wandering in a hell that no longer acknowledges your old power."

Dante twisted the spear cruelly, eliciting a scream of agony from Loki. The sound echoed across the dark field, but Dante remained unmoved, his cold eyes fixed on the fallen god's face.

"Now, be a good loser," Dante continued, shoving Loki backward with a firm motion of the spear. "And show me what's left of you. Or are you no longer even capable of that?"

As Loki staggered back, dark energy dripped from the wound in his chest, the tip of Dante's spear still glowing ominously. The God of Lies clutched the injury, his expression a mix of pain and fury. He panted, but his eyes burned with a promise of revenge.

"You're bold, boy," Loki spat, blood dripping from his mouth, his tone still sharp. "But I'll show you that even a husk like me is more than enough to end you."

Dante simply smiled, twirling his spear with deadly precision. "Show me, then, God of Lies. Prove you're still worth something."

Suddenly, Loki raised his hand, and an explosion of green energy swept across the battlefield. The clones that had previously vanished began to reappear, but this time they were more solid, more real. Each one held a version of Gungnir, their energy radiating with a will of its own, pulsing with dangerous intent.

Dante moved swiftly, charging at the clones. His first strike was precise and lethal, his spear piercing through one of the duplicates, which exploded into a burst of green energy. But before he could retreat, two more clones lunged at him simultaneously, their attacks synchronized. Dante spun his weapon, deflecting one spear and blocking the other, but the impact was strong enough to send him flying backward. He plunged the tip of his spear into the ground to steady himself.

"Is that all you've got, Loki?" Dante taunted, wiping a small trickle of blood from a cut on his lip. "These shadows can barely scratch me."

"These shadows are just the beginning," Loki replied, his voice deeper and more resonant. He raised both hands, and the entire battlefield began to quake. The clones multiplied, surrounding Dante in a tight circle. Each one appeared as real as Loki himself, their eyes burning with divine wrath.

Dante chuckled, but this time, there was something dark in his laughter. "Looks like I'll need to step things up."

He raised his spear, and the energy around him began to shift. The air grew heavy, as though gravity itself had doubled. A dark glow enveloped his weapon, pulsing in sync with his breath. In a flash, Dante moved like lightning, his spear slicing through the air with deadly precision. Every movement was a macabre dance, each strike obliterating Loki's clones in eruptions of green energy.

However, for every clone he destroyed, two more emerged to take its place. Loki watched from a distance, smiling as he channeled more energy to summon even more duplicates. "You cannot win, Dante! I am eternal, even in this form. This hell sustains me, and you will be crushed under the weight of my power!"

Dante paused, locking eyes with Loki, his gaze piercing. "You're right about one thing, Loki. This place sustains you... but it's also my arena."

With a swift motion, Dante drove his spear into the ground. The earth trembled again, but this time, the energy that surged forth was his own. Black miasma erupted like a fountain, spreading across the battlefield. The army of undead he had summoned earlier reemerged, their grotesque forms charging at Loki's clones with relentless ferocity.

"Let's see if your eternity can withstand my army, Loki!" Dante roared, his voice thundering across the battlefield.

Chaos engulfed the scene. Clones and undead clashed in brutal combat, the sounds of weapons clashing and explosions of energy filling the air. At the center of the storm, Dante moved like an incarnate demon, his spear tearing through everything in his path. He dodged attacks, spun his weapon to take out multiple enemies at once, and pressed forward without mercy.

Loki, finally stepping into the fray directly, let out a battle cry as he charged. His spear gleamed with an almost blinding intensity. The first clash between their spears was so powerful that the ground beneath them cracked, creating a massive crater. The force of the impact sent both of them flying backward, but neither hesitated.

Dante struck again, moving like a shadow. Loki parried with skill, but Dante's strength was overwhelming. Each of his strikes carried the weight of all the souls he had defeated, and Loki felt it with every block. Still, the god was an experienced warrior, and his counterattacks were equally deadly. He unleashed a flurry of swift strikes, forcing Dante to step back.

"You're good, boy," Loki admitted between attacks. "But not good enough to defeat a god."

"I don't need to be good enough to defeat a god," Dante replied with a cruel smile. "I just need to be good enough to destroy a husk like you!"

With that, he stepped forward, delivering a strike so quick and brutal that Loki barely had time to react. Dante's spear pierced through Loki's shoulder, divine blood spilling in a brilliant arc. Loki roared in pain, but instead of retreating, he grabbed Dante's spear with one hand and pulled him closer, attempting to impale him with his own Gungnir.

Dante narrowly avoided the attack, the tip of Loki's spear grazing his side and leaving a searing mark. Using the momentum, he twisted his body and delivered a powerful kick to Loki, sending the god crashing to the ground.

The two glared at each other, both breathing heavily, neither willing to back down. The battle was far from over, and both knew the next move could determine everything.

Loki was the first to move, his eyes blazing with furious intensity as he raised his hand. The air around him erupted in a burst of green light, and his spear shattered into dozens of fragments, which floated around him, spinning like lethal blades.

"No more games, Dante!" Loki roared, his voice reverberating like thunder. "I'll end you and rip your soul apart to free myself from this damned hell!"

With a gesture, the fragments shot forward like projectiles, each imbued with Loki's divine essence. Dante saw the attack coming and reacted instinctively. He spun his spear, creating a shield of dark energy around himself. The fragments struck the shield in a series of devastating explosions, but Dante stood firm.

As the final blade dissipated, he charged forward with terrifying speed, his spear aimed directly at Loki's heart. "Enough talk, Loki. You're nothing but a shadow of what you once were, and I'm ending this now!"

Loki raised his hand again, conjuring a brilliant barrier, but the force of Dante's attack was immense. The barrier shattered like glass, and Dante's spear tore through the air toward Loki. At the last moment, the god dodged, but the tip of the weapon opened a deep gash along his side.

Loki cried out in pain but used the moment to counterattack. He conjured a sword of pure energy, so luminous it seemed capable of cutting through darkness itself. With a swift motion, he swung horizontally, forcing Dante to retreat quickly.n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

The two engaged in a frenetic exchange of blows. Dante's spear moved like an extension of his body, his strikes precise and devastating. Loki's sword, on the other hand, seemed to dance in the air, its slashes as fast as lightning. Each clash of their weapons sent shockwaves through the battlefield, shaking the very ground beneath them.

Dante grinned, even as blood trickled from a cut on his forehead. "You've still got some skill, Loki. Maybe there's a fragment of divinity left in you after all."

"You talk too much, mortal!" Loki snarled, launching a flurry of rapid strikes that forced Dante to step back.

But Dante wasn't retreating out of fear or exhaustion. He was preparing. In a sudden move, he planted his spear into the ground, using it as a pivot to launch himself into the air. Spinning in midair, he came down like a meteor, his weapon glowing with concentrated dark energy.

Loki tried to block, but the impact was too powerful. Dante's spear collided with Loki's sword, breaking through his defense and sending him flying backward. The god crashed to the ground, but before he could rise, Dante was already upon him, the tip of his spear pressed against Loki's chest.

"It ends here, Loki," Dante said, his voice low but filled with unwavering determination.

Loki, panting and bleeding, looked up to meet his gaze. "You think you've won, boy? I am eternal... You can destroy me here, but I will always return!"

Dante tilted his head, a cold smile spreading across his lips. "Perhaps. But I'll make sure that when you return, you'll remember you were defeated by me."

With a swift motion, he drove his spear into Loki's chest, unleashing a burst of dark and green energy that filled the battlefield. Loki's scream echoed like thunder, but instead of despair, there was a note of resignation in his final roar.

When the light finally faded, Dante stood tall, his spear still glowing in his hand. Loki's body hung lifelessly impaled on the spear.

"Now... let's make sure you never return," Dante said, his tone cold and final, as his infernal hounds emerged from the shadows.

The monstrous creatures lunged at Loki's form, their jaws tearing into not just his body but his very soul. As they devoured him, the god's essence began to fade, his presence consumed by the ravenous beasts.

Dante watched in silence, his expression unreadable, as the once-proud god of mischief was reduced to nothingness. When the hounds finally retreated into the void, all that remained was the stillness of the battlefield.

Dante lifted his spear, its glow fading as he turned away. "One less god to worry about."