The morning went by relatively quickly from silently getting into the carriage and heading into school things were quite easy, of course rumors about Dante had spread relatively quickly being the adopted son of a Duke and all, It's to be well.... Expected per say,
However one thing is troubling him for some reason Dante's personality and mind feels closer to Dante 2 then well Dante and for some reason he can't put a finger on it, Lately his mind shifts and his personality changes going from timid to ruthless inquisitive to just pure thoughtful ,
Sitting at his desk dante looked around as his eyes narrowed, his mind already racing. The professor, a stern woman named Professor Orrell, stood at the front of the class with her usual precise posture, her glasses balanced delicately on the bridge of her nose. Today, however, there was an unusual tension in the air.
"Today, we begin a lesson that has not been taught here in over a century," Professor Orrell announced, her voice cutting through the whispers. "We will be learning about an era… no, a being, that many of you have only heard of in passing, if at all."
Dante caught the shift in the room immediately. Eyebrows raised, whispers grew louder, but one voice pierced the atmosphere. Vallen, the Count's son, leaned back in his seat and smirked.
"Viktor Krauss," Vallen chuckled, carelessly uttering the name that caused the entire class to stiffen.
A deathly silence followed, hanging in the air like the final breath before execution. Every student's eyes locked on Vallen, horror creeping up their spines as they processed what he'd just said. Viktor Krauss—the name that haunted history itself. Professor Orrell's glasses gleamed as she pushed them up the bridge of her nose, her gaze locking onto Vallen with sharp disapproval.
"You would do well not to joke about such matters, Count Vallen," she scolded, her voice colder than steel. "But yes… we will indeed be studying the era of Viktor Krauss. Or, as it is more accurately known, the Age of Desolation."
The title sent a chill down Dante's spine. He had heard whispers of Viktor Krauss growing up, fragments of stories told in low, fearful voices. But it had always seemed like myth, a distant nightmare from the pages of history. Now, it seemed all too real.
"You were all raised to believe Viktor Krauss was nothing more than a legend—a villain of bedtime stories meant to scare you as children. But what you will learn today, what you will see," Professor Orrell's voice lowered, turning almost grim, "will make you realize just how real he was."
With a flick of her wrist, the room darkened. The air hummed with magical energy as she cast a spell, pulling from the ether a shimmer of light that swirled before the students. The light stretched, forming an ancient, ethereal screen that began to display historical footage—the war that tore the continent apart.
The image solidified, and there he was.
A tall man, 6'6", sat atop a grotesque throne made of corpses. His hair, blacker than the void, draped down his back like silk. His red eyes glowed with an unnatural brightness, and his lips curled into a wicked smile as though the carnage around him was nothing more than an amusement. His ears, slightly pointed, gave him an otherworldly appearance, but it was the aura that surrounded him that was truly terrifying—an aura of unrelenting malevolence.
Viktor Krauss.
The world's original evil.
On the battlefield, the armies of the Duke and the Emperor stood before him, their flags fluttering in the wind, though there was no hope in their eyes. The Emperor himself, sword in hand, screamed for Viktor to surrender. The Duke stood beside him, magic swirling in his hands as they prepared for a final assault.
And then Viktor Krauss laughed.
It wasn't a human laugh—it was the laugh of something far more ancient, far more sinister. His body tensed as if barely containing a power that threatened to break the very world. With a flicker of movement too fast to follow, Viktor Krauss rose from his throne of bodies, both swords gleaming in the blood-red sky.
He rushed toward the armies, faster than a gale, and as the soldiers raised their weapons, it was already too late. In a frenzy of movement, Viktor cut down soldiers as if they were made of paper. He severed limbs, pulled out throats, and gouged eyes with a grace that seemed almost rehearsed. His swords danced through the air, and blood rained down in thick sheets.
No incantations. No hesitation.
Fire burst from his hands without warning, scorching the earth around him, while thunder and wind tore through the soldiers as if nature itself had become his weapon. Blood magic swirled around him, a terrifying aura of crimson that drained the life from the battlefield.
The Duke and the Emperor stood frozen as Viktor unleashed a torrent of chaos, their magic barely able to protect them from the onslaught. Even as they fought with all their might, Viktor only seemed to grow stronger—his laughter more wild, his strikes more brutal.
The footage faded to black, but the terror it left behind lingered in the air. Every student sat motionless, wide-eyed, as if still trapped in the nightmare.
"That," Professor Orrell's voice was calm, though her face was pale, "was Viktor Krauss. The greatest evil to ever walk this earth. It took the combined strength of the Duke, the Marquess, and the Emperor to seal him away. They couldn't kill him—no one could. His power was… is… beyond comprehension. The Age of Desolation, the era he created, cost billions of lives. Entire cities were wiped off the map. Entire kingdoms, reduced to ruin."
She paused, letting her words sink in, before continuing.
"And we share this with you today because each of you is the future of this world. You are the heirs to the most powerful families, and if Viktor Krauss ever breaks free of his seal… you must be ready."
The weight of her words pressed down on the class like a suffocating cloud. The Count's son was no longer laughing. In fact, no one was. Dante sat in stunned silence, his thoughts racing. Viktor Krauss… the very name felt like an omen, a curse waiting to be unleashed.
For the first time in his life, Dante felt the tremor of real fear,
He didn't know if it was his mind torn between Dante 2 and Him but he felt Timid and fearful something entirely unlike dante? 'But who am I... or who am I not' is what Dante thought.