• He would grip the red-handled sword tightly, the blade gleaming brightly in the light, a tint of red to the refined magic-made sword he held; the remembrance of his father whom had made it lingered in the back of his mind as he looked across the battlefield to the demons that were already running towards them, the hills and rugged landscape not slowing them down. Some of the demons and other monsters were already in their true form, some staying in their more human-like forms, since some preferred the illusion of being even slightly human to what they truly were: monsters, demons spawned from hell.

    The rumble of their claws, booted-feet, or flap of their wings even as they all were going to converge at the spot where Dante' was standing in the foremost front of his allies, his comrades, and some even his friends. He knew the bloodshed that would occur, and knew that the chances of his side winning were slim to none, but that did not and would not deny him his lust for blood. It could be seen in his eyes, the lust of a killer. He would kill, destroy and crush any and all that came into his sight, and would die this day most likely. It was a suicidal attempt at holding these monsters back and away from the city that had hired him and some other mercenaries, the cities troops mingled in with the sell-swords.

    A soft and short breeze swished quietly through the ranks upon ranks of elves, shape-shifters, beasts, and others of the full and mixed races that dwelled in the city of Leah. He would ponder momentarily of why the monsters would attack such a place, but he already knew the answer. It was because they were monsters, dark things that wanted to crush others, to destroy races or enslave them, to dominate everything and everyone else in this world. Maybe it was to make up for the fact that they were fiendish and disgusting, he did not know, nor did he care.

    Hearing one of the commander's out in-front of the one of the ranks of soldier's, he could hear words of encouragement and found it was disgusting, his dark red eyes leaving that man and going back to the demons. His dark red and almost silkily soft hair blew in the wind, the hair reaching down to his mid-back. He being five foot eleven, his hair should have been tied up or cut shorter even, but it was not. It was a sign to all others in the army that he was not like that, that he did not go by rules. He was different from most of the people at his back and side, he did not follow the rules, nor the justice and moral codes. He did what was necessary, did dirty work and even enjoyed it. He had a spine, and his defiant nature was what lead him to become a mercenary.

    Dante' did as he pleased in-between jobs, and had no commanding officer. He only had orders that he need fulfill in order to get paid. He was not in this for the money, no, he was in it for the bloodshed and the test it brought to his skills. He was only twenty five years in age, yet his body held scars all across his upper body, back, shoulders and arms to show that he was warrior, that he lived by others deaths. He had one of those bodies that was refined and sculpted because of hard labor, fighting and sometimes even malnutrition.

    Closing his eyes, thinking back on his dead parents and other siblings that were slain by monsters like the one's coming at him now, he let his rage consume him. Ignoring the fact that he was supposed to wait until given the order to charge, he ran out from the column of soldiers he was with, running full on and straight towards where the enemy was already charging towards them. The commanding officers would watch on, calling him back to no avail and rising up their swords and thrusting them up and towards the enemy would urge everyone else to follow the manic that charged in first and alone.

    Over a hundred feet now separated him and his comrades, and he knew he'd be fighting enemies all alone with no one beside him; that was the way he wanted it. He could not and would not rely on others. The roar of the monsters, demons and vampires and ogre's and other darkish beings, was loud in his ears, glancing up at the winged beasts that would fly over him, ignoring him to let the ones on the ground take care of him, they'd go for the other winged things on his side of the battlefield.

    Flames would appear all around Dante', the sword encasing itself in blue flames and flames licking all across Dante's clothed body. The flames did not burning through the leather of his armor, only dancing around on it, ready to protect. He converged first with a multitude of wolf-like demons, though not werewolves, the being were beasts of hell. He would meet one and thrust his sword through the side of it's head, black blood spurting out immediately, and as he side-stepped the lunge aimed to rip his throat out he ripped the blade free from the dark things head. He would slash at the other, though he continued to run even more into the huge amount of enemies that ran towards and past him, most ignoring him to let the one's in-front of him deal with him.

    He would block their vein attacks and pierce their throats, hearts and brains. He would occasionally throw a fireball here and there, but mostly used his sword. All that was heard was the clash of metal against metal, metal against flesh, and metal against bones as the two sides met Blood-curtailing screams of pain and agony filled the afternoon sky.

    His blood-lust rose ever-so much more the more the demons and monsters he killed, his power pounding inside him, wanting a more powerful enemy to face. Wanting more bloodletting. He would start becoming much more gruesome in the way he killed, chopping arms and other limbs off before slicing a head off, ripping a few throats out with his free hand, even ripping an ogre's spine out as he stood atop him after slicing his chest open as he jumped on the things shoulder. He was incredibly strong, his half-breed shape-shifter side helping with that, along with his magic abilities. He had refined himself to not only be stronger, but swift.

    Jumping from the ogre's shoulders as it would fall forward, he now faced a large creature that looked somewhat like a minotaur, but was dark-skinned and had no horns like a minotaur would have. It held a large two-sided axe, and as Dante' would charge the thing, it would slice at him, bringing the axe at him horizontally in a wide arc that was swift, the slash much faster then Dante' had expected. He had jumped up when the slash was applied, and the bottom of his foot had collided with the axe, though his foot was still in place only because the flames held back the blade itself from slicing through his flesh and bones, making it so that he only felt the force of the blow.

    Twirling through the air and landing in a crumbled heap, he picked himself up just in time to see the dark thing smirk cruelly, obviously satisfied that his blow had landed, somewhat. His jaw clenched and he clenched his fist, bending to one knee as he slammed his knuckles against the ground, a dent of his fist in the ground. The dark thing looked a bit surprised, not knowing what the hell Dante' was doing. The ground beneath the thing started to heat up and flames burst right underneath the dark being, the flames bursting out in a spear-like sort of form, going straight up and through the thing, piercing from his bottom all the way out his head.

    Smirking wickedly himself now, he moved on, already near the middle of the opposing army, knowing this was where more of the more elite beings where, maybe one of the commanding demons or some such. His gaze turned to a female demon, standing there atop one of the hills watching the carnage below, just the posture of her telling Dante' that she held a vast amount of power; just what Dante' wanted. Tearing his way through more and more different beings, he fought his way towards her, heading up the hill and towards the right of her. His attention was mostly on her and the anxiety of fighting her lead to him becoming careless as he would slay his way to her, getting scratches here and there, and getting hit full on by a beast he should've been able to kill with ease. He fell back from the blow, though he immediately got up and slashed the thing to pieces.

    Finally up the hill now, he would walk towards the female demon, noticing that for about 20 feet surrounding her, not one of the dark things came close to her, obviously she was a higher ranked demon or something like that. He knew she would turn and see him coming, and just for the hell of it he held his left hand out, the one not holding the sword, and a lightning bolt coming from his hand and streaked with blinding speed towards her. He didn't care if it hit or not, and would run towards her now, building up his power, knowing he'd be needing it. As he enclosed the distance between him and her, he would clench his fist and bring it up swiftly, the ground underneath her shifting as spikes from the earth would spring up and aim to pierce her on all sides. He was glad of his abilities to use various elements, though he didn't know them all, he was content with which he knew.