Jost, upon hearing these words, felt a shock run through his very core. He vividly remembered the day his daughters returned home safely after their perilous rescue mission. To be precise, he recalled how Lexa, Kai, and Lee had ventured into the heart of the Sandrian Empire well something like that, to retrieve his daughter, Lexi.
At the time, he had believed in their capabilities but realistically expected their success to take anywhere from five to ten years. The journey alone—crossing through treacherous territories—required an average of three months. And the Sandrian Empire itself was a monstrous force, standing as the strongest, or at the very least, among the top three most powerful empires within the territory of the pure elves.
And yet, against all odds, his daughters had returned far earlier than anticipated. Lexa had attributed their miraculous escape to a benefactor—one she claimed was at least of the True Sage level. She had insisted that she couldn't gauge his strength accurately, only that he felt "around" her father's level. But now, standing before this young boy, Jost sensed something profoundly unsettling—nothing. Absolutely nothing. There was no trace of an aura, no hint of mana, no fluctuation in presence. It was as if the very concept of power and energy refused to acknowledge him.
Jost lacked an appraisal skill, but even without one, he should have sensed something. Anything. But before him stood an enigma. And from the reaction of his father earlier, the truth was clear—this was no True Sage. This was a mythical being.
But why?
'Do mythical beings have the time to wander the world recruiting subordinates?'
'What in the world was happening?'
It was unheard of.
Mythical beings were rare. Even he, in all his years, had encountered fewer than ten. Those beyond the Sage level were so powerful that they rarely left their empires unless something capable of furthering their skill levels was at stake.
And yet, now, not one but two mythical beings had strolled into his lands as if they were nothing more than wandering cultivators?
His head ached.
Still, suppressing his turmoil, Jost straightened his posture and spoke with utmost respect. "I have heard from my daughter of your deeds. She spoke little, only that you had aided her and ensured their safe escape. As a pure elf, you had every right to take her life, yet you did not. For that, I am deeply grateful. However—"
Before he could continue, Vexion, the red-haired elf who accompanied this boy, interrupted with a serene smile. "My lord does not take kindly to excessive questions," she said, her tone polite yet firm. "However—" She turned to Dante, who seemed entirely detached from the conversation.
Dante had his hands in his pockets, his expression unreadable. In truth, he was preoccupied with a system notification.
His skill, Loyal Bestowal, had triggered, sending a familiar giddy feeling through him. He was in a good mood. Not only had the skill activated, but it had done so in a way that furthered his goals. Still, he maintained his indifferent facade, only shifting his attention back to Jost when Vexion spoke.
He let out a small chuckle before finally breaking his silence. "Alright, enough chitchat," he said casually, yet his voice carried an unmistakable weight. "I already have a pretty clear idea of what happened here. I know who was here. And as much as I'd like to say this was all my fault…" He exhaled, shaking his head.
"That guy was always going to destroy this place and make a break for it. The only reason he didn't finish the job was because of me specifically because of the imprint my skill left on Lexa. You could say that's the only reason you're still breathing right now."
His gaze sharpened, cold amusement flickering in his eyes. "So, again, you owe me. A massive favor. But this isn't the place to discuss it."
Midway through his speech, Dante paused, lifting his hands from his robe pockets. The movement was casual yet deliberate, as if he were about to unveil something before them all.
A dense energy radiated from Dante, a swirling mix of blue and white that spread outward, encompassing everyone present. The sheer power it exuded was foreign yet majestic, its pulse incomprehensible even to Jost. It was an aura unlike anything they had ever felt—one that mended wounds, soothed fractured minds, and erased the lingering echoes of despair.
The soldiers, once bloodied and broken, felt their pain ease as their bodies and spirits were restored. Those who had been tormented by the horrific sight of their princess's defilement found their minds unburdened, as if a veil of agony had been lifted.
Sheva, trembling and lost in her own suffering, felt the warmth of the aura seep into her very soul. The torment that had gripped her heart loosened its hold, granting her a reprieve she never thought possible. Though the scars of her violation would not vanish, the suffocating weight of humiliation and helplessness began to fade.
The energy continued its work, reaching Lexa as well, soothing the turmoil that had festered in her chest. Jost, his wife, and even the soldiers stood in stunned silence, overwhelmed by the sheer divinity of what they were witnessing.
But amidst this miraculous healing, one anomaly stood out. The mercenaries, their expressions frozen in pure horror, remained untouched by the aura's grace. Their leader, the one who had orchestrated the atrocities, simply ceased to exist—her body dissolving into nothingness the moment Dante's power surged.
Their shock was absolute. Their leader had just… vanished. No sign of struggle, no remnants left behind. And now, before them, the people they had brutalized were being healed in seconds, by a force they could not begin to comprehend.
Dante, watching the scene unfold, grinned as he slipped his hands back into his pockets. "That's my first show of apology. The only one you'll get from me. In fact, this is more of an extra favor, but whatever."
His gaze then shifted toward the mercenaries before finally landing on Lexa. Though his skill had long since fortified her mind, ensuring she would never cower before stronger opponents or fall victim to mind control, he could tell she was still processing what had transpired.
"Seems like you've had the time of your life" Dante's voice carried a casual arrogance as he chuckled. "The only reason I showed up now was because I could sense your mind was… unstable. Or rather, you went through what I call 'character development.'
"so-called civilized creatures—those who aren't monsters driven purely by instinct—were better huh" Dante chuckled again "Isn't life funny?". Vexion who stood next to Dante covered her mouth as she chuckled as well.
Dante smiled, grinning as he asked "Tell me, did you see it? Did you see how evil looks when you're the one on the receiving end?"
Lexa felt as if something heavy had slammed into her chest. The answer to his question was painfully clear.
She had seen it. She had seen what true evil looked like—heard the way those vile men had laughed, seen the pleasure they took in their depravity. Every second of it was burned into her mind. Their cruelty had been unrestrained, their wickedness without remorse.
And her own soldiers? Of the 150 who had come with her, barely forty had chosen death over the disgrace of standing by and watching helplessly.
She had called Dante evil before. But what was evil? If evil was the power to do as one pleased, to impose one's will upon the world without restraint, then Dante was indeed evil. But at least he had the strength to back it up. At least he did as he pleased because he had the capability to do so, most importantly, he could protect what was his.
She had spent her life yelling at the world, decrying cruelty, condemning injustice. But words changed nothing. She had been too weak to stop the evil she despised.
She had not understood Dante before. She likely never would. But in that moment, she reached her own understanding.
If standing on the bodies of her enemies and even bystanders was the price of power, she would pay it. If being labeled evil meant she would never again have to watch helplessly as those she loved suffered, then so be it.
Her gaze shifted to Vexion. The woman was breathtakingly beautiful, yet her nature was utterly despicable. And yet… she was fine. She was happy.
Lexa clenched her fists as the thought solidified in her mind.
She stepped forward and kneeled before Dante.
'I refuse to suffer such disgrace again.'
"Young Lord Dante, please take me in as yours, in body, mind and soul, let me be in your Favour and act under your word . Let me be your subordinate ."
She turned her head slightly, looking at the soldiers who were barely standing and then at the mercenaries, who trembled in absolute terror, their bodies locked in place as if their very minds had been paralyzed.
"Let me at least deal with these dark elves. Afterward, I will devote myself to you as your student and subordinate. My life and death will be decided by you."
Dante had initially planned to continue his elaborate, unnecessary speech on morals— a subject he had no business discussing—but he stopped mid-thought.
Lexa had reached her own realization.
And more importantly, the moment she had spoken, the alert from his skill, Loyal Subordinate Bestowal—LSB, as he liked to call it—rang in his mind like the sweetest melody.
Dante chuckled, nodding in approval.
"Mhmm, do as you please."