"Unfortunately, you won't be able to beat me, Dante."
Gray muttered the words in a strange tone that was strangely seemed to be carrying a faint trace of something that almost sounded like sadness.
His dull eyes, which had been empty for so long, seemed to regain a small hint of brilliance, as if something deep inside had stirred for just a moment.
Dante gritted his teeth at his words.
He tightened his grip on the sword, and the white aura around his body surged forward, rushing toward Gray like a violent tide.
FWOOOSH!
But the moment it got close, the aura shook, twisted, and was forced back, recoiling on itself as if it had felt fear.
Pure fear.
Dante froze.
He could no longer deny it.
Gray was a being that never had the chance of being defeated.
"...How dumb am I?" Dante muttered to himself.
He had always believed in something simple.
Someone without emotions should have weak mental power.
After all, emotions were the source of will, of drive, of madness.
