Dante, standing just outside the demon lands, watched in astonishment as the allied forces rallied and surged towards him. The sheer number of humans charging his way sent a shiver down his spine.
"Heh, well, I'm strong enough..." he muttered, forcing a smile onto his face.
That kid... he has an ancient demon within him... How can I possibly kill him? Dante thought, a wave of doubt washing over him.
A cold sweat broke out on Dante's forehead. Vorax Maelstrom, the Psycho, was infamous even among demons for his ruthlessness and insatiable hunger. To face him in his prime would have been a daunting task, but now, weakened and outnumbered, Dante's confidence crumbled.
He glanced back at the approaching allied forces, their numbers swelling with every passing moment. He knew he couldn't face them all, not in his current state. A strategic retreat was his only option.
