Dante In Devil May Cry 5 Novels & Stories

“That’s why I’m going to destroy the entire cycle.” Dante’s smirk faltered as the confidence in his eyes dimmed, and he visibly trembled with his gun in hand. He understood now. He was going to die here. Dante let out a hollow, breathless laugh. “You really think you’re any different from me?” Adrian remained silent. He simply pulled the trigger. The Devil Falls The bullet found its mark, slamming Dante in the chest. He staggered, gasping as his breath hitched. The gun slipped from his fingers and clattered against the floor. He wavered, his notorious smirk fading—his desire to make a clever remark vanished.

“You’re walking straight into a warzone.” Dante opened the car door. “Good. That’s where I belong.” Before climbing in, he looked once more at the bridge. The two bodies swayed gently in the wind, blood still dripping into the black water below. He whispered, almost to himself, “You wanted the Devil.” Then he got into the car. “Now you’ll have him.” The convoy roared back to life, speeding away from the bridge. Behind them, the note fluttered in the wind, the blood on it still fresh.

Before Selena could react, someone started speaking. "Do you really think that you could kill him with that knife Princess?" young Dante's voice whispered in her ear. It sounded like a taunt. One day, Alexander brought Dante home 6 years ago. Apparently Dante blocked a bullet for Alexander and saved him. Alexander thought he could use Dante, but as the years passed by, Alexander started to teach Dante all the ways to kill a person, evade laws, and earn money. Dante is no longer a hunch man in the bottom. He raised in rank and now fifth in command after Alexander in the outfit.

The two men tied to the chains, looked up from their bloodied states only to see the devil standing in front of them. "Let the fun begin," Dante smirked, stabbing the first man in the shoulder and twisting his knife a full 180 degrees. The man screamed in unbearable pain and already felt his life slipping away. Dante had dug his knife into the same spot the man was shot at. "How dare you even touch my girl?" Dante gritted every word before dragging the knife to his chest, cutting open all the skin that came in its way. "How dare you even look at her with your filthy eyes?" the man spat some blood before looking in Dante's eyes.

Paolo asked Camilla. The door was kicked open and Dante walked in. Paolo paled in fear. "How did you get here?" he asked. Dante looked at Camilla bruised naked body and he saw red, he rushed at Paolo and rained punches on him. Geremia took off his shirt and wore it on Camilla to cover her body. Valerie pulled Dante off Paolo who was moaning in pain." Enough Dante! The alliance will deal with him" Valerie told him. "No, I am going to kill him" Dante struggled with Valerie.

I move toward the door to open it, but Dario stops me. “Please, he isn’t really like this. Let’s go back.” He says, trying to defend whatever Dante was doing on the other side of the door, but all I do is push his hand aside and open the door. I wish I had listened to Dario and turned back. Then I wouldn’t feel as broken-hearted as I did when my eyes settled on them in the room together. Dante had Carmella on her knees, and he had rolled up her hair around his fist as he fucked her from behind. Her eyes were closed as she moaned out in ecstasy. So was Dante’s as he thrusts into her hard.

Dante. Leaning casually against the window, half-naked, holding a glass of amber whiskey like he was in a cologne commercial. His tattoo curled down the side of his torso like it had been drawn by sin itself, highlighting every sculpted inch of his abs. And that smirk—God, that smirk. Equal parts arrogant and devastating. What on earth was wrong with you, Scarlet? Why do you want to pounce on him? “Why am I here?” I asked, trying to sound firm, though my eyes may have lingered a little too long on his chest.

in Ivy’s chest flared with such intensity it felt like a physical strike. The door hissed open. Dante stood there. He looked like he had crawled out of hell. His face was gaunt, his obsidian eyes sunken and burning with a dark, terrifying light. A jagged scar ran from his temple to his jaw, a permanent reminder of the Nadir’s collapse. He didn't speak. He didn't embrace her. He stepped into the room and grabbed her by the jaw, his fingers bruising her skin, forcing her to look up at him.

I felt a sharp burning pain in my fingers as the frost-bit metal made contact with my palms. “Dante! Come get him down!” I yelled. Dante appeared beside me faster than I would have assumed would be possible with all the gunfire going on outside. With an expressionless face and the efficiency of a machine, he moved, slicing through the zip-ties with a knife. Luciano collapsed, and Dante immediately caught his weight, lowering him gently onto the frost-covered concrete.

I stormed up the stone steps two at a time. My fingers wrapped around the metal handle. Click. I cocked my pistol. Then, I pushed the doors open. Gasps erupted. Heads turned. But I only looked at one person. Dante. He stood before the altar, stiff and devoid of emotions. A gun was aimed at his head by an older looking man. And it didn't take me much to identify the latter. El Diablo. That was the devil. Beside him, Seraphine smirked. My eyes narrowed. And all I saw in that moment was red.