Dante was sitting on the ground, surrounded by corpses. Part of his clothing was completely torn and drenched in blood, while his hands, arms, legs, and face bore marks of battle. His eyes were fierce as he stroked Vex's head, resting in his lap.
Approximately three hours had passed since he had defeated the knight called Mercedes. He wanted to know more about the woman and what led her to this point, but he dared not interrupt her moment.
Dante had seen and heard many cruel things, but he had never seen a woman suffer like Mercedes. It seemed as though her soul had been ripped from her body, and she only knew how to lament, living deeply in her hell over and over again.
"I cannot deny that I identify with her, but it seems the situation is much more complex," he thought, observing the woman completely battered, mentally and physically.
