Soon Dante would turn twelve. Over the past four years, Dante focused on being the best version of himself; he grew stronger with each passing day. Every battle became a sponge for him to absorb experience, and each reward Valentina gave him only fueled his excitement to reach the next level.
It's worth noting that Valentina never gifted him anything sexual or of that sort. They were just normal things they did together, but to avoid spoiling Dante, she used them as simple rewards. From sleeping together, taking baths, to simply having some rest for the two of them and controlled small kisses. These were simple things that the training deprived him of, and he would miss easily.
But all this time, Valentina didn't let him drink her blood often, only after completing something she deemed extremely beneficial for blood consumption. To be fair, she also didn't drink his blood. She wanted Dante to overcome the weakness of vampires, the thirst for blood.
Dante went berserk twice during all those years. Once when he was ten, he started to slip into madness and went berserk during his dispute with Valentina after going a month without drinking blood. Valentina allowed Dante to do whatever he wanted and never interfered with his bloodthirst, even though it was cruel for a child to be treated this way. Soon, he would overcome this thirst just as she did after understanding the nature of blood.
Valentina had a training method far beyond Spartan. She never helped her son recover, and he always did everything himself. His food, clothes, baths, lessons, and development of his techniques—he did it all. She guided him but that didn't mean she would hand everything to him on a silver platter.
Dante was self-taught; he was surprisingly smart in all lessons. Every time he hit a wall in his training, he went back to everything his mother taught him.
"A firm foundation forms a strong warrior. If the wall in front of you is too big, review all your basics and start over." This was a rule Valentina imposed on Dante. Never forget your origins.
Dante then took this as a rule for his life. He now saw his mother as a very imposing woman; previously, he had a much gentler view of her. He thought the stories about her were exaggerated, but he understood it was just precaution about who she was.
An entity so intimidating that rulers engraved in their children's education that she shouldn't be disturbed.
Dante then understood what it meant to be Valentina's shadow. It meant that even if he didn't want to, everyone would always judge him by who his mother was. His name had been etched in history as a Monster.
Dante pushed these thoughts out of his head, and Valentina stopped the fight. With just a day left until Dante's birthday, she decided to impart a lesson she wished she had learned early in her life but never had anyone to teach her.
"Dante, come here," Valentina was sitting cross-legged and asked him to sit between her legs.
When he sat, she put her arms around his shoulders, embracing him from behind. Dante chose not to think about the ample bosom against his back and stayed silent, trying to understand what was happening and why his mother had become so sentimental.
"Son, who am I?" Valentina asked, expecting an answer.
"Valentina Scarlet, my mother and wife," Dante said, looking at the surrounding nature, still with his back to his mother.
"I see, then observe who your Wife is," Valentina murmured, and suddenly everything went dark, and Dante realized he was in Valentina's mental world.
He looked around, and compared to the previous vision, everything was clean; there were no more corpses, only a long sea of blood and a red sky. He still felt his mother embracing him from behind, but a copy of her appeared in front of him.