True power, many can boast about possessing it, but few can exercise said supposed power. She always tried to achieve that true and lethal power. She viewed their leader, Aegraxes, as an individual with that status or maybe someone like the enigma, Mikoto Yukio. But maybe neither was the correct answer.
Her eyes nervously glanced in the distance, at the various mountains that now lay in ruins. Toppled over as if they were fragile glass instead of ancient structures that endured the worst the world had to offer. Not magic or some foreign power, a simple punch was responsible for that devastation. A punch that took Beatrice out in an instant.
("I know we're still not used to our jump in power, but...") She would wager that even if they had years to be in tune with their new growth in power, they would still be decimated by him. Yet she did not know what kind of entity could possess such power. Was he truly just a mortal human as he claimed?
"Out of consideration for your naivety, I spared your brethren." The subject of her thoughts suddenly spoke up. She narrowed her eyes with a furrowed brow.
("Spare? That attack just now was not even serious?") She thought in utter befuddlement but she registered his other words quickly. "Naivety?" She questioned. "What are you talking about?" Her tone was already laced with visceral annoyance.
"Judging from the last time I saw the two of you, the metamorphosis that was in the process of transforming you into demons only granted you horns thus far," Dante explained. "You're the youngest out of the remaining Fate Walkers. Do you truly even want to restore the former era, or was it merely Aegraxes' goal he ushered onto you?"
"You would dare question my conviction?" Ezerald all but growled out.
"I would question your drive," he corrected. "You've seen this world, everything in it. You cannot be as narrow-minded as to think it and everyone in it deserves to be expunged."
She scoffed as she leveled a glare his way, "Look around you, is it truly that narrow-minded? These lands were once teeming with life and agriculture. It was beautiful once upon a time, but Vel'ryr established its empire here. They siphon mana from the leylines to fuel their technology, and that led to a barren wasteland. And this is but one example of the avarice the people of this era possess." She reasoned, momentarily her eyes scanned around the destroyed landscape. Their brief battle only fueled the depressing state the land was in.
"True, humanity has an insatiable hunger for tragedy and pointlessness," Dante agreed, much to her confusion. "Say, have you visited the nation of Doma?"
"What?"
"The food is great, and the people are full of hospitality. The nation has a reputation of taking in countless refugees from small or large-scale wars," he informed, and Ezerald's confusion grew. "Of course, that has since changed with Vel'ryr invading the East constantly."
"What relevance has that?" She blurted out.
"I'm saying that not all is the same within this star. There is good in it if you are willing to look for it. Maybe some do not deserve the gift of life, but what of an innocent newborn babe? Does it not deserve a chance to live? A chance to prosper? A chance at life?" He asked, you could detect a hint of something unknown in his tone if you were to pay attention. Not mere conviction, but sadness? Animosity? Tiredness? Relief? It was hard to gauge, but there was clear emotion. "Should their lives be forfeit for something they had no part in? Humanity is not responsible for the destruction of our era. That fault lies only with the Gods and dragons."
"That..." Ezerald wanted to rebut but found only silence. She knew very well the beauty the current era hid. Everything was hardly as black and white as she liked to believe, and she knew as much. ("But is it not our right to reclaim this world that was once ours?") She mentally reasoned, ("To bring back our fallen brethren and to restore Aethel to what it once was.") Though those were her thoughts, as ever they lacked conviction.
"Oh dear, I hope you're not falling for such honeyed words." Suddenly, a familiar voice rang out from above, causing the two's gazes to shoot up. Her blinding golden armor made her as ever easy to spot, suspended in the air Rhiannon defied gravity, floating leisurely. Slung over her shoulder was the limp body of Beatrice. "Though I admit..." She started as her body descended slowly, not long did her greaves touch down onto the destroyed ground. "His words might've even moved a lesser me." She chuckled as she surprisingly put down Beatrice's body gently, the Fate Walker lacked any apparent injuries aside from some ruined clothing.
("She healed her?") Ezerald thought, confused. She doubted it was done out of the goodness of her heart; maybe she did not want Beatrice to die because of how much time she invested in her. Though that reasoning seemed fickle no matter how reasonable.
"You made quite the rounds around the nation," Rhiannon stated with an amused grin, staring down Dante. "News here apparently spreads mighty quick; you're quite wanted."
"A small price to pay," Dante rebutted. "My journey in Vel'ryr is not yet finished. Wherever Aegraxes might be hiding, I will find him."
"And then kill him, yes?" Rhiannon folded her arms at the thought. "Far be it for me to stop you, but as I said, he's not to be underestimated."
"You should be against him as well; the calamities he seeks to start will cause irreparable damage to this realm. Not even the Gods combined would be able to do anything to restore it," Dante informed. He flexed his fingers as he continued. "You seek to usher in an entirely new era, a 'utopia' as you put it. That won't be possible if the calamities ravage all."
"True," Rhiannon admitted. "Though this works out in my favor all the same." Dante remained silent, the only indication of his confusion being a slight head tilt. "It's really quite simple; if the people of this era cannot contend with all seven calamities, then they are merely unworthy."
("What a flawed way of thinking.") Ezerald could not help but think as she kneeled over Beatrice's unconscious form. ("The prophecy of the calamities even had Gods and dragons tense, save for a few; humanity cannot hope to contend with even one.") She reasoned; the prospect was just absurd.
"Of course..." Rhiannon continued, "usually I would go about my business, searching for diamonds in the rough." In other words, 'testing' the people of this era in her own cruel way. "However, your words the last time we fought and here today are intriguing. And very comedic," she said with a lopsided smile and a glint in her ruby red eyes. "Beauty in this misbegotten era, huh? 'Tis bad comedy."
"Everything can be simplified if you only look at things from a surface level," Dante shot back. Rhiannon chuckled.
"You're truly convinced of that, hm?" Rhiannon questioned amused. "Honestly, I would rather just wipe out everything and everyone. But I am at least willing to wait for the worthy few, yet you would have me believe that there is still worth to this era despite its degrading nature?"
"I would," he answered without hesitation. "In this era, individuals vary, but all have a role to play, even those you would deem as worthless. Strength and intelligence are not indicators of worth; it is merely a bias to weed out what you prefer. You would see that for yourself if you weren't so focused on your misbegotten goal."
Rhiannon did not immediately retort; she was silent for a few moments. A smile on her face, but her eyes told him she was pondering. "I see," she finally spoke. "Not an indicator, hm? Then how about a wager, from the strongest Ancestor to the strongest mortal?"
"I am not here to play games with you, Ancestor of Chaos," Dante bluntly denied. She smiled on.
"Not a mere game," she denied. "I will properly explore this world and truly see what it has to offer. I am curious to see this 'beauty' you speak of; I want to truly see if this current era is worthy despite its abundance of deterioration. If I find what I am looking for, then I shall concede; I shall not attack this era or interfere in any measure. However, should I not, then this world is forfeit."
"You mean to destroy it?" Ezerald questioned incredulously. "With Astrea's anchors, that is nigh impossible."
"Hmph, hardly," Rhiannon brushed off. She raised her right arm towards Dante, her fist tightly clenched and suspended in the air as if awaiting something. Her face turned eerily serious, no haughty smirk or vicious glare. "But what say you? Though my goals are not easily changed...should your words of this era hold true, then I would be inclined to merely observe the era."
Dante looked at her raised fist, contemplation hidden behind his helmet. The gesture seemed simple enough, though most likely only he and Rhiannon knew of its significance. Ezerald seemed to only grow more confused at the gesture.
"Hmph," Dante raised his own right hand, clenching his fist and bumping her own. Their gauntlets touched, pure white clashing with intense gold. "A gesture like this tells me you will keep your word no matter what path you should choose. Should you want to destroy everything, then I will put a stop to you. Should you find yourself moved by this era, then even so, your past actions will not be forgiven; either way, I will kill you."
At his words, a smile slid back onto Rhiannon's face. "No pleasing you, it seems," she joked. "But I do enjoy it." Both retracted their hands simultaneously. "I'll not interfere with the era until my journey comes to an end. Suppose I'll see what Galadriel has to offer; Aurélie seemed interested enough."
Dante merely grunted. "Do as you must," he merely stated as he turned around. "Aegraxes is not all that plaques this country it seems, I have business to take care off."
("Wait, he's merely going to leave? Just like that?") Ezerald looked at the armored man in confusion. ("After all that? And he's sparing me and Beatrice.")
Almost as if sensing her thoughts, Dante turned to glance at her. "Heed my earlier words, Fate Walker. If the Ancestor could see my reasoning, then someone as young as you should as well." And those were his parting words; his body blurred and in the next instance disappeared, the force of his speed creating a large crater where he stood. Ezerald was left with contemplation, and Rhiannon with just more interest.