My Blood Legacy: Reincarnated as a Vampire

Despite this, Dante was often mistaken for a genius because of his raw strength and relentless drive, attributes largely influenced by the company he kept—his wives, more powerful than he could ever imagine on his own. Many times, he had faced death, often narrowly escaping due to his extraordinary resilience and relentless pursuit of power.

However, without his exceptional mentors, would he have been the same? These thoughts plagued him on many sleepless nights, driving his obsession with becoming stronger, gaining more power. Yet, ironically, his very existence, marked by continuous growth and sheer luck, always seemed to place him in the right place at the right time.

This luck, however, had its limits, leading to his death when the Supreme Beings saw him as an anomaly to be corrected.

Dante's journey, marked by uncanny fortune, was now being put to the test in this battle.

WOOSH!

His body hurtled through the air, crashing violently against the wall, breaking not just his bones but causing his ribcage to shatter, spilling some of his organs from his body.

"Agh!" He screamed in pain. Pain—a sensation Dante had barely felt in recent years despite constant battles. His high pain tolerance seemed futile now.

In a moment of distraction, sensing Lilith's presence in the human world, Dante received the most powerful blow in years, completely disrupting his senses and sending his body flying.

"D-damn it," he muttered, watching his organs regenerate. But he had no time to recover; a swift kick aimed directly at his face struck with an unprecedented speed.

KABOOM!

Dante raised his arms to defend himself, but the sheer force of the kick shattered his arms as he tried to block.

"AA!" He screamed in pain, almost in desperation. Something was terribly wrong—how could a demon, not even at Demon King level, be pummeling him like this?

His entire body trembled, not out of fear but from sheer excitement and primal curiosity. This was the first time he felt this way about an opponent.

"You underestimate my strength, child," Avaddon declared to Dante, who was trying to recover, his regeneration working overtime. His body heated up as it healed, a calm smoke emanating from the areas under regeneration.

The demon seemed genuinely thrilled about the battle. From the start, he hadn't held back, attacking to kill. His fists emanated an unfamiliar aura, one that Dante had felt before but couldn't place. No time to ponder—Avaddon launched another attack as soon as Dante stood up.

Avaddon moved at an abnormal speed, launching a new kick straight at Dante's torso.

THUD!

The kick was blocked. Dante's arm, surrounded by dense demonic energy and pure miasma, stopped Avaddon's assault.

Avaddon grinned at him while Dante held onto his leg, "Is that all you've got, Avaddon?" Dante taunted, gripping tightly. In a swift move, he counterattacked, spinning on his axis and covering his fist with his characteristic black flames.

WHOOSH!

The punch was quick, but Avaddon dodged with a fluid movement, breaking free from Dante's grip and spinning in the air, landing and causing a small crater where he touched down.

"Your strength is impressive," Avaddon acknowledged, dusting off the impact. "But it won't be enough to stop me."

He was massive, towering over Dante with his height exceeding four meters, while Dante stood just under two meters tall, around 1.90 meters. Expecting Avaddon to say something, Dante was taken aback as the demon advanced again, launching a series of devastating blows, each charged with that overpowering aura.

SWISH! SWISH! SWISH!

Dante abandoned his defensive stance and began to attack in unison. Each punch, each kick, caused a wave of destruction around them. Offense met offense, and their strikes clashed without hitting their bodies, only meeting fists and legs.

It was a duel between two martial artists of unknown caliber, but one thing was certain: anyone witnessing this would find it hard to believe their eyes.

The sounds of wind from their impacts were like a symphony of blows immersed in their own worlds. Dante was genuinely starting to enjoy this, and it wasn't just him. Avaddon, the demon, also began to smile. These men... they were alike.

Both were individuals entirely devoted to strength, following the path of the mighty.

Their hands moved as fast as lightning, each attack and parry meticulously analyzed and mirrored. They were locked in an inert state of combat.

"You are strong! Hahaha!" The demon exclaimed, increasing the speed of his punches. Dante, equally animated, replied, "Hahaha! You're the strongest demon I've ever met!" His eyes began to dim the world around him.

The world lost its color, his spatial awareness becoming more precise, as if his body was erasing anything unnecessary for the battle. Even his feelings for saving Sara were subtly replaced by the thrill of combat.

A Worthy Opponent... when was the last time Dante felt this? Yes... the last time he fought with his heart in the game, when he poured his personality into the fight and revealed his true self... Yes, that time.

The moment he decided that Sara was someone he wanted to love.

He leaned back, dodging a punch, and countered with a spinning kick that struck Avaddon on the chin.

CRACK!

Avaddon was thrown backward, skidding along the ground and raising dust, but he quickly got up. The demon's smile didn't waver for a second.

"How fun!" He exclaimed, charging even faster at Dante, who took a punch directly to the face.

CRACK!

Dante was also sent flying several meters back, but he kept his happy expression. This was a moment of pure joy for both, and Dante wished it could last for hours, but he knew he couldn't prolong it too much.

Gradually, Dante entered the Zone, his intense focus on the battle doubling his energy production. He was eager to fight, but even more so, he longed to find his beautiful wife, to embrace her and shower her with love.

As he recalled his first fight against Sara, so many positive emotions began to fill his heart, and he remembered that sensation—the same aura from a person who appeared afterward.

"Aura Fist, a demon at the Master level, nearing Grandmaster—Hahaha, how exciting!" Dante said, recalling Musashi Miyamoto's sword, emitting a strange aura just like the fists of this guy in front of him.

"So you understand that, huh? I thought you were just a kid, but I see you're a man who has seen a lot in this world," Avaddon said, smiling as he readied himself for another round of fighting. He genuinely seemed to admire Dante in this respect.

"Let's continue!" The demon's voice twisted slightly... it seemed that he was... "Come at me!" Dante shouted, disregarding what he had just heard. He wanted to keep going, to have a real fight!

He charged at Avaddon with fists ablaze, not even thinking about using swords or any other powers beyond his fiery fists. The battle was so exhilarating, so engaging, that he ignored all his other abilities. He knew that if he used them, he would win, but that wasn't what he wanted.

This was that feeling, the instinct for battle, the desire to fight not for victory but for the moment! That's how Dante felt!

He wanted to enjoy himself just by punching this demon, like a true warrior!

The battle intensified quickly, their fists colliding and shaking the entire environment. Even the giant tree seemed to tremble. Despite the different aura in Avaddon's hands, he withstood Dante's black fire, something Dante had rarely seen matched until now.

The fight raged on for many minutes, so long that Dante and Avaddon began attacking and dodging almost automatically, the same joy evident on the demon's face as he seemed to relish every moment of the battle.

As they exchanged blows with a smile, Dante spoke while still evading Avaddon's attacks, "Let's finish this with one strike." Grinning, Avaddon nodded, and the two moved apart.

Negative energy gathered in their fists as they prepared for a final clash. No more dodging, no hesitation, just a pure, clean fight between two battle-crazed demons.

Finally, the victor would be decided.

KABOOM!

The exchange of punches occurred at the center of the tenth floor, creating an unprecedented explosion and sending both fighters flying to opposite sides.

Dust rose into the air, making the atmosphere even heavier. Splinters of wood and shattered roots lay scattered everywhere, as blood seemed to rain from the ceiling, the result of a massive beam of roots that transported negative energy being destroyed.

Then, a figure emerged from the rubble.