Meanwhile, in the outskirts of the southern region, above the highest peak of the stony mountain where green grasses stood tall like ancient pillars, the sky was shrouded in thick clouds and heavy rolling fog.
Zhe Ha warped out of the portal panting. His knees buckled the moment he landed, and he staggered forward before forcing himself upright.
He dropped down heavily and crossed his legs, trying to steady his breath as pain throbbed through every inch of his body.
"Dammit. I knew this Dante Ruthwilfer was powerful, but not this powerful."
He muttered through clenched teeth. His fingers traced the bruises, cuts, and open wounds scattered across his torso.
The cold mountain wind stung his skin, making him inhale sharply. He glanced around, making sure he was alone before closing his eyes.
He took a slow breath.
Then another.
His chest began to rise and fall in a precise rhythm as he chanted a mantra in a foreign, ancient tongue at the very tip of the mountain.
His voice echoed through the mist like a whisper carried by spirits.
"Goki suha magi fu. Goki suha magi fu. Goki suha magi fu."
Each repetition pulsed with energy, and his wounds reacted. Cuts sealed themselves, bruises faded, and his breath returned to a steady, unwavering calm.
His aura flared gently with each chant, almost like a heartbeat of power expanding outward.
Just as the wounds fully closed—
A sharp metallic sound ripped through the silence. A blade-like chain shot through the air, slicing apart the surrounding fog as it aimed straight for his heart.
Zhe Ha's eyes snapped open.
"Oh, now what?"
Annoyance flickered across his face. Without even rising from his seated pose, he lifted both hands and clamped down on the incoming strike.
The chain screeched violently as his palms caught it, the weapon stopping only inches from piercing his chest.
The chain trembled under the force of his grip. Sparks erupted between metal and skin as raw power clashed and wrestled for dominance. The mist swirled wildly around him, reacting to the confrontation.
He narrowed his gaze, following the weapon back through the fog. For a moment he thought Dante had found him again, but then a familiar presence stepped into view.
"Funny how it has been a hundred years, Ingrid Von Balmung."
The name rolled off his tongue with equal parts irritation and resignation.
Ingrid emerged from the mist like a specter, landing with effortless grace on the stone in front of him.
Her movements were smooth, almost elegant, but there was a cold lethality beneath every step she took.
The long chain-sword coiled back into her grip as though it were alive and obedient only to her will.
Her revealing black uniform clung tightly to her figure, the fabric shifting slightly as dark energy pulsed beneath her skin.
Her golden eyes locked onto Zhe Ha with a quiet, simmering hostility. A faint aura of menace clung to her presence, thick enough to make the air feel heavier.
Zhe Ha finally rose to his feet, brushing dust from his palms while maintaining eye contact. His expression remained calm, though a muscle in his jaw twitched.
Ingrid's gaze sharpened, her lips curling almost imperceptibly. The wind whipped her long hair across her face, but she didn't blink.
The mountain peak held its breath, the fog circling around them like an audience waiting for violence to break loose once more.
And now the events return to the present, to the very moment Dante's chain blade pierced straight through Zhe Ha's chest.
Blood burst from the impact as Zhe Ha's eyes widened. The force staggered him backward, his breath leaving him in a broken gasp.
"Ingrid. Do it!"
Dante's voice roared across the battlefield.
Ingrid hesitated for a split second, confused, her golden eyes flicking between Dante and the dying Zhe Ha. But instinct, loyalty, and the pressure of the moment pushed her into action.
She tightened her grip on her blade. Her muscles coiled, her expression sharpening with grim resolve. With a swift, practiced motion, she swung her weapon across Zhe Ha's neck.
The blade cut clean.
Zhe Ha's head dropped, hitting the ground with a soft thud before rolling toward the side. His body collapsed seconds later, falling lifeless onto the rocky surface.
Ingrid exhaled sharply, a long breath of relief rushing out of her. Her shoulders loosened as the tension left her body. But the moment she tried to stand, her knee buckled. She stumbled forward, breath shaking.
Dante rushed in and caught her before she hit the ground.
"Get away from me, you filthy human," Ingrid muttered weakly, pushing against him with little strength.
Dante rolled his eyes so hard it was almost dramatic. "Says the one who ate twelve plates of food. Bitch, just shut up and let me help you."
He placed a hand near her wound, channeling his power. A soft glow pulsed from his palm, sealing the injury little by little.
Ingrid scoffed. "Just so you know, I can regenerate."
"Yeah, yeah," Dante replied, smirking slightly. "You showing me your bare ass in the onsen in my hut says otherwise."
Ingrid froze.
Her expression snapped from exhaustion to outrage in an instant. Her face turned bright red, her jaw tightening as she glared up at him.
"That… that was before I knew you were Dante Ruthwilfer."
Her voice cracked with embarrassment and irritation, the memory clearly stabbing her pride like a blade.
But before either of them could react, the ground beneath the ruined temple let out a violent crack.
A wet, sickening burst of gore exploded upward, spraying blood and fragments across the stone floor. Dante and Ingrid snapped their heads toward the source in shock.
Zhe Ha stood there.
Whole. Repaired. Breathing.
His severed head was no longer on the ground. The body that had collapsed moments ago was now fully restored, skin smooth, eyes burning with renewed malice. A thin mist of blood evaporated off him like smoke.
He tilted his head slowly, joints cracking with a sound like snapping knuckles.
"Ahh… you two have some nerves," he said, wiping a streak of blood from his cheek as though it were dust.
Ingrid's eyes widened. Dante's jaw tightened.
Zhe Ha stretched his neck from side to side, the bones popping rhythmically. Then he smirked, almost amused by their expression.
"Surprised?" He raised a brow. "I cannot die."
His voice echoed across the temple ruins with a calm that felt more terrifying than his rage.
"Before my master's death, during the war long ago, I asked for a boon," he continued. "I could not ask for immortality because of some petty law made by the gods."
A surge of energy shimmered behind him.
He extended a hand.
His spear responded instantly, breaking through the rubble and flying toward him like an obedient hound. The weapon slapped into his palm with a loud metallic snap.
"So I asked for something else," he said, lifting the spear and pointing it at the two of them. His grin widened, eyes glowing with manic triumph.
"A loophole. I cannot die by land or sky. My death shall not be inside nor outside my home. No weapon, whether dead or alive, man or inhumane, nor any beast can kill me."
His laughter rose, echoing like thunder through the fog-covered ruins.
"I cannot die! Ahahahahaha!"
The temple trembled beneath his voice, the air thick with the promise of carnage.
"Oi, Ingrid. You thinking what I'm thinking?" Dante asked, eyes narrowing.
Ingrid gave a low, irritated hum. "Does the idea of joining forces disgust me, or are you referring to the fact that this imbecile clearly cannot be killed?"
The two locked eyes. For a brief moment, their mutual annoyance turned into silent understanding. They rose to their feet, both already fully healed.
Dante inhaled deeply. White light burst from beneath his skin as Kilamahi's form overtook him.
His flesh shifted to a ghostly pale tone. His long black hair spilled down his back like ink, and tribal tendril-like tattoos crawled across his arms and chest, pulsing with raw, ancient energy.
Ingrid's transformation followed. Her body expanded and cracked with violent, demonic energy.
Horns curved from her skull, her limbs thickened, scales rippling across her skin as she turned into her demonic dragon form. Dark power curled around her, heavy enough to crush the air.
Both stood ready, their combined aura shaking the ground beneath them.
"Honestly," Dante said, rolling his shoulders as sparks danced off his tattoos, "a human and a demon teaming up against a demi-god. What are the odds, Ingrid?"
Ingrid huffed a laugh, baring sharp teeth in a grin full of fierce determination. "Zero chances, boy. But I agree. This is our first team up."
Zhe Ha raised an eyebrow, almost amused. "Oh please…"
He spread his arms slightly and gave them a mocking bow. His smirk twisted into something feral.
"The three of us are monsters. You, Dante, a rumored Alderman who should not even exist. And you, Ingrid Von Balmung, former Sovereign of the Dragon Clan turned leader of the Demon Clan with your personal Ten Commandments, though all of you died a hundred years ago."
He tapped his spear against the ground, and the stone cracked from the pressure.
"And I," he said, lifting his chin proudly, "Zhe Ha, a blessed demi-god, am about to rip both of you piece to fucking piece."
His aura exploded outward in a violent surge that sent stone debris flying, the temple ruins groaning under the pressure.
The battle line was drawn.
---
Chapter 44 — End.