The journey back to Sparda Mansion was swift, Victor's steps purposeful as he navigated through the snowy landscape. The cold air bit at his skin, but the urgency in Griffon's message fueled his determination. The towering mansion loomed ahead, a silent witness to the supernatural events that unfolded within its walls.
The members of Devil May Cry, each with their unique abilities and loyalty to Victor, stood in a solemn row. Their acknowledgment of him was a silent testament to the bond they shared, a connection forged through battles and victories. The air in the grand entrance hall hung with anticipation as Victor stepped inside, closing the door behind him against the wintry chill.
"Welcome back, My Lord," Nevan greeted, representing the other members.
"Yeah. What about King Raphael?"
"He has regained consciousness and much better now. The effect of the drug is really taking his consciousness away slowly. But I have extracted every single thing," replied Modeus.
"Good. Then, what about the results of your research on Elizabeth's words?"
"As expected. A country that glorifies aesthetics, beauty, and anything about art. Oriana Kingdom, which is currently being hit by Civil War due to being controlled by Perv Asshat." Modeus concluded the research results based on ancient records collected by Nevan as well as Elizabeth's words at the Crimson Tower.
"Hmm, I wonder what my father is doing in Oriana that time? OK, I'll talk to him," said Victor.
"This way, My Lord" Modeus led his master to a door that led to the dungeons. The secret room of the mansion, the place where King Oriana was hidden and cared for by Victor after the incident at the God of War Tournament.
Raphael, the King of Oriana, sat on the bed in the dimly lit secret room. His regal presence was juxtaposed against the clandestine nature of the meeting. The air was thick with a sense of urgency as Victor entered, acknowledging the gravity of the situation.
Victor, concealed behind the mask and hood, greeted Raphael with a respectful nod. "Greetings, Your Majesty, I trust you are recovering well from your Chancellor's treacherous act?"
Raphael, though still showing signs of the ordeal, managed a faint smile. "I'm on the mend, thanks to your timely intervention. But our troubles are far from over, my friend."
Raphael, still recovering, looked at Victor with a mix of gratitude and curiosity. "Who are you, really?"
Victor, maintaining his disguised appearance, responded calmly, "My identity isn't crucial right now. What I need to know is the true motive behind Perv Asshat's actions. What are his goals in attempting to seize the kingdom of Oriana?"
Raphael leaned back, his eyes narrowing in thought. "Perv Asshat is power-hungry. His desire to rule knows no bounds. He believes Oriana's prosperity lies in his hands alone."
Victor nodded, absorbing the information. Raphael's voice lowered as he divulged a deeper layer of the conspiracy. "Perv Asshat is not acting alone. He's backed by the Cult of Diablos. Their interest lies in an ancient ring and artifact sealed by a knight, a relic from the time of the first King of Oriana. This artifact symbolizes the end of a major war, and Perv is unwittingly aiding their agenda to retrieve it."
Victor, absorbing the gravity of the revelation, asked, "Do you know what this artifact is capable of? Why would the Cult pursue it so ardently?"
Raphael's gaze turned distant. "The artifact is said to hold immense power. Its true nature and capabilities remain shrouded in mystery, but its retrieval could tip the balance of power in Oriana and beyond."
Victor contemplated the implications of this newfound information, realizing that the stakes were higher than he had initially thought.
Raphael's revelation hung in the air, adding a layer of mystique to the unfolding saga. "The artifact is a sword, concealed within a ruin. Yet, the seal remains impervious, with only the mysterious knight, the original guardian, holding the key to unlocking its potential. Even the Cult of Diablos, with all their resources, has been unable to breach the seal."
Victor pondered the significance of the sealed sword. "What makes this sword so formidable that even the cult is fixated on acquiring it?"
Raphael's eyes flickered with uncertainty. "The true nature of the sword's power is unknown. Legends speak of its ability to alter destinies, but its secrets have been guarded by the knight who sealed it away. If Perv Asshat and the Cult succeed, the consequences could be dire."
Victor nodded, realizing that the journey ahead was fraught with peril, and the enigmatic knight held the key to untangling the web of mysteries surrounding Oriana and the Cult of Diablos.
There was no longer any doubt in him. The sword was the sword left by his father, the Sword of Sparda.
Victor listened intently as Raphael unraveled the threads of history. "The ancient conflict, hundreds of years past, where Vegalta's vast army threatened Oriana's very existence. In the direst moment, the activation of an ancient magic opened a portal to the realm of Black Rose. However, instead of salvation, the unleashed magical beasts wrought havoc upon both kingdoms."
"The mysterious knight, a savior from the shadows, intervened just in time to halt the rampage and seal away the Black Rose. It's a tale of survival in the face of overwhelming odds," Raphael concluded, his eyes reflecting the weight of centuries-old tales.
On the one hand, Victor feels proud of his father who has contributed a lot of the world. Beat Diablos, stop the wrath of Blood Queen, and stop the big war and rampage from a magical beasts.
'I think you are also suitable to be an adventurer, father'
However, on the other hand, he felt annoyed because his father always left a trail that did not know for sure. Whether it's in Lawless City, the kingdom of Oriana, and others. Now he wonder whether his father also left a trail in another world.
Raphael's eyes held a glimmer of paternal concern as he broached the subject of his daughter. "Young man, do you have any information about my daughter, Rose Oriana? Is she still among the living? Is she well?"
Victor, maintaining the facade of anonymity, responded with measured words. "I'm afraid I don't have direct knowledge of her current status. However, her well-being is of utmost importance, and I share your concern for her safety."
A tinge of sorrow lingered in Raphael's gaze. "Rose, my only child, separated from me by circumstances beyond our control. I can only hope she's found a path of happiness."
Victor nodded empathetically. "Time will endeavor to uncover the truth, Your Majesty, and ensure that Rose's fate aligns with the prosperity of Oriana."
Raphael acknowledged the shared commitment. "May our efforts illuminate the shadows that shroud both the past and the present."
Raphael's countenance became shaded with regret as he delved into the intricacies of his past decisions. "I must admit, I was blinded by political considerations. My decision to match Rose with the cunning and malevolent Chancellor was a grave mistake. It was only in the eleventh hour, as Oriana teetered on the precipice of civil strife, that I discerned the true nature of Perv Asshat."
Victor, though maintaining his composed demeanor, conveyed understanding. "Majesty, the complexities of governance often lead to unforeseen consequences. The important thing now is to rectify the course of Oriana's destiny."
Raphael's eyes held a mixture of resolve and sorrow. "I shall bear the weight of my decisions, i must navigate the uncertain path ahead for Oriana and for my daughter, Rose."
Victor acknowledged the gravity of the situation. "Your Majesty, i will strive to unveil the machinations that entangle Oriana and ensure a future where justice prevails."
The two figures in the dimly lit room shared a moment of silent contemplation, bound by the intricacies of a kingdom's fate and the quest for redemption.
Victor, with a reassuring gaze, spoke with a calm assurance, "Your Majesty, rest assured. I shall endeavor to unravel the threads of deception that enshroud Oriana. I will safeguard the kingdom and ensure Rose's well-being."
Raphael, though burdened by the weight of his decisions, found a glimmer of hope in Victor's words. "Thank you so much, young man. May your actions bring about a brighter dawn for Oriana."
With a solemn nod, Victor pledged, "I shall not falter in my commitment. Oriana will emerge from the shadows of deceit, and Rose will find solace in a realm free from manipulation."
As the conversation concluded, the room retained its air of quiet contemplation, resonating with the shared determination of two individuals entwined in the intricate tapestry of destiny.
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The Lost Soul Aside II
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The members of Devil May Cry gathered in the dimly lit main hall, their expressions reflecting a mix of concern and determination. Victor stood at the forefront, addressing them with a sense of purpose.
"Devil May Cry, the shadows that loom over Oriana have deepened. We must unveil the machinations of the Cult of Diablos and thwart their malevolent plans. Our first objective is to locate the sealed sword within the ancient ruin."
Baul, the steadfast leader in Victor's absence, nodded in agreement. "I'll mobilize the team and initiate reconnaissance. We'll get information on the cult's movements and the exact location of the sealed sword."
Victor continued, "Meanwhile, we must remain vigilant. The Cult of Diablos has extended its influence, and the repercussions echo through Oriana. Be prepared for any challenges that may arise. Our actions shall shape the destiny of this kingdom."
As the members dispersed to carry out their assigned tasks, a sense of unity and resolve lingered in the air, binding them together in the pursuit of justice against the encroaching darkness.
The decision was made swiftly, and Victor conveyed to his comrades, "Prepare yourselves. We depart for Oriana today. The cult's influence has already seeped into the kingdom, and we cannot afford to delay our intervention."
The members of Devil May Cry, accustomed to quick and decisive actions, immediately set about readying their equipment and making the necessary arrangements for the journey ahead. The atmosphere in the Sparda Mansion crackled with anticipation and determination as they readied themselves to confront the unfolding crisis in Oriana.
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In the somber town of Oriana, the remnants of a once-thriving castle town, the snow fell gently, masking the scars of a recent civil war. Buildings stood in partial ruin, with the lingering smoke of past explosions weaving through the chilled air. The atmosphere bore the weight of both the town's history and recent conflicts, a stark reminder of the turmoil that had unfolded within its walls.
Amidst the remnants of the war-torn town, Victor, concealed in a bluish-black cloak, strode through the streets alongside Baul and Modeus, their own cloaks blending with the muted hues of the surroundings. The once-bustling streets, now filled with civilians navigating the aftermath of conflict, bore witness to the trio's silent presence. The townsfolk moved about their daily routines, casting wary glances at the scars of destruction that lingered in the background. Victor's piercing gaze surveyed the surroundings, a silent acknowledgment of the healing needed in the wake of conflict.
Baul, observing the resilient civilians amidst the war-torn town, remarked on their tenacity.
"It's surprising to see them so active, even in such a dire time," he commented.
Victor, his gaze thoughtful, responded, "They're driven by necessity, forced to continue for the sake of survival. It's a testament to the strength that can emerge from adversity."
Modeus, looking around at the damaged town, inquired about their lodging for the night. "Where will we rest, my lord? The inn seems to be in ruins."
Victor, considering the options, shared his plan. "We'll be camping tonight. There's a cave in the nearby forest. King Raphael mentioned it to me before our trip."
"Help! Someone, please!"
Amidst their journey through the war-torn town, a cry for help pierced the air from a nearby street market. A thief, clutching a pouch filled with gold coins, darted away, prompting a quick response from Victor and his companions.
BREAK
GRAB
"Ouch! Let me go! Aargh! Shit!"
In a swift and coordinated maneuver, Baul lunged at the thief's legs, bringing him to the ground. Following this, Modeus deftly seated himself on the thief's back, applying pressure while twisting his arm in a controlled hold. The subdued thief winced in pain, realizing his escape had come to an abrupt end.
As the thief struggled beneath the combined strength of Baul and the agility of Modeus, Victor approached with a calm demeanor. The citizens who had gathered around to witness the spectacle whispered among themselves, grateful for the intervention.
Victor, maintaining his stoic expression, spoke to the restrained thief, "Why resort to theft in a town already burdened by the scars of war?"
The thief, caught in a compromising position, hesitated before replying, "Desperation knows no other path. Survival in these times is a ruthless game."
Victor, understanding the harsh reality, nodded slightly. "You have a point, but there are better ways to navigate through challenges. Perhaps we can find a more constructive solution."
Baul and Modeus eased their hold on the thief, allowing him to sit up. The gathered crowd watched, curious about how Victor would handle the situation.
Victor handed the recovered pouch to the elderly trader with a nod. "Your perseverance deserves better than being hindered by such inconveniences."
The old woman, relieved and grateful, responded with a warm smile, "You're a true savior in these troubled times. May the gods watch over you on your journey."
Baul and Modeus exchanged glances, acknowledging the importance of these small acts in fostering hope amidst the chaos. Victor, with a subtle smile, replied, "May your days be brighter as well. Now, we must continue on our path."
As they left the street market, the townsfolk whispered expressions of gratitude, and the trio resumed their journey through the snow-covered town of Oriana.
Victor's keen eyes narrowed as he observed the passing carriages, their emblem sparking recognition. The triangular insignia enclosed within a circle, with three ovals branching towards each corner, was unmistakably the mark of the Cult of Diablos. The revelation deepened the gravity of the situation, hinting at the cult's pervasive influence even in the war-torn streets of Oriana.
Baul whispered, his voice tinged with concern, "My lord, it seems the cult has its grasp even in these troubled lands."
Modeus, vigilant as ever, added, "Their presence suggests a more intricate web of schemes. We must tread carefully."
Victor's gaze remained fixed on the retreating carriages, thoughts swirling about the potential implications of the cult's involvement in Oriana's turmoil. "Our path just became more complicated. The civilians had no idea that this kingdom was controlled by the cult through Perv Asshat" With that, the trio pressed on, determined to unveil the secrets entwined within the snowy town.
The trio maneuvered through the winding alleys, shadows concealing their movements as they traced the path of the horse-drawn carriages. The air was thick with anticipation as they neared the main courtyard of the Oriana kingdom's main castle.
From their discreet vantage point, Victor observed the ornate gates swing open, allowing the carriages to roll into the heart of the fortress. His piercing gaze remained fixed on the castle, contemplating the implications of the Cult of Diablos making its presence felt within these regal walls.
Baul, ever watchful, muttered, "The heart of power is not immune to the machinations of the cult."
Modeus, a silent sentinel by Victor's side, added, "We must tread carefully, my lord. The castle's corridors may hide more secrets than we anticipate."
In a hushed tone, Victor addressed Baul and Modeus, "We've seen enough for now. The cult's grip on the kingdom is tighter than we imagined. We'll resume our investigation tonight, under the cover of darkness."
Baul, ever dutiful, replied, "Understood, my lord. We shall tread carefully in the darkness."
Modeus, his gaze unwavering, added, "Patience and stealth will be our allies in this endeavor."
As they melted back into the shadows of the town, the weight of their newfound knowledge lingered in the cold air. The trio, bound by loyalty and purpose, prepared for the darkness that would cloak their next foray into the mysteries that enshrouded Oriana's kingdom.
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The Lost Soul Aside II
.
Amidst the flickering light of their campfire, the trio gathered around, the warmth a stark contrast to the chilling tales of Sparda's history and Oriana's kingdom.
Victor, stirring the pot over the fire, began, "The legacy of my father is intertwined with the threads of time. The battles he fought, the demons he conquered, echo through generations."
Baul, his eyes reflecting the dancing flames, nodded, "Indeed, the tales of his valor and strength are etched in the annals of history. But what of Oriana's kingdom, my lord?"
Victor's gaze shifted to the distant night sky before continuing, "Oriana, a realm touched by both glory and art. Its past shadows mirror the conflicts that shaped Sparda's destiny. The kingdom's resilience is a testament to the spirit that endures despite the scars of war."
As the aroma of cooking meat wafted through the air, Modeus, ever contemplative, added, "These stories, though different, are threads in the vast tapestry of existence. Our journey seeks to unravel the knots that bind them, revealing the truth hidden in the folds."
And so, beneath the starlit canopy, they shared tales of legends and mysteries, forging a bond strengthened by the weight of history and the anticipation of the challenges yet to unfold.
The crackling fire provided a backdrop to the conversation, shadows dancing on the cave walls as they delved into the revelations of artifacts bound by history.
Modeus, inquisitive as ever, inquired, "Two artifacts, each with its own legacy. Why did Lord Sparda choose Oriana for the sword's resting place?"
Victor, his gaze fixed on the flames, began to unravel the tale. "My father foresaw a time when the sword might be needed once more. Oriana, a kingdom touched by both honor and turmoil, stood as a guardian. The artifacts, each holding a chapter of our intertwined destinies."
Baul, adding a log to the fire, mused, "So, our journey not only seeks to uncover the mysteries of Oriana but to reclaim the sword, a relic of Lord Sparda's valor."
Victor nodded, his eyes reflecting the dance of the flames. "Indeed, Baul. It's a legacy entrusted to me, a connection to the past that may hold the key to our present challenges."
As the night unfolded, the trio shared a silent understanding, a commitment to unearth the secrets that lay dormant in the ruins and unveil the threads that bound Sparda's legacy to the Kingdom of Oriana.
DOOM
The magical energy's faint glow disrupted the tranquility of the night, prompting the trio to exchange glances marked by a shared curiosity. Victor, attuned to the ebb and flow of mystical forces, spoke with a measured tone, "There's an unexpected disturbance emanating from the sea. It warrants investigation."
Baul and Modeus, ready for whatever awaited, nodded in unison. As they approached the entrance of the cave, the distant sound of crashing waves became more pronounced, harmonizing with the whispers of the night breeze.
The trio traversed the rocky terrain, guided by the mystical resonance growing stronger with each step. The sea, veiled in the moon's silver glow, held secrets waiting to be unveiled.
The moonlit ruins stood as silent witnesses to the ravages of conflict, echoes of a time when this stronghold resonated with laughter and joy. Victor surveyed the dilapidated structure, his sharp eyes catching glimpses of faded grandeur beneath the scars of battle.
As they ventured deeper, the trio encountered remnants of a once-vibrant garden, now tangled and overgrown. Statues of regal beasts, frozen in stoic poses, bore witness to the passage of centuries. Victor, guided by an innate sense, led his companions towards the heart of the stronghold.
Amidst the rubble, they discovered an entrance obscured by fallen stones. Victor, ever vigilant, signaled for Baul and Modeus to be prepared. The entrance seemed to beckon with an enigmatic allure, promising revelations that transcended the visible scars on the surface.
Baul, his immense frame crouched low, whispered, "The soldiers were attacked recently. This ruin seems to be a focal point. What could they be doing here?"
Victor, observing the surroundings with a keen eye, responded, "The Cult of Diablos. Their presence here raises questions."
Modeus, her agile form blending seamlessly with the shadows, added, "We should proceed cautiously. Whatever occurs within this ruin may hold the key to the Cult's machinations."
As they ventured closer, the ancient structure loomed larger, its faded grandeur now a backdrop to an unfolding mystery. The air crackled with an otherworldly tension, signaling that they were approaching a nexus of significant events.
As they observed from the concealment of the trees, Victor's gaze sharpened upon the gathering in the ruins. The armored figures, their allegiance unclear, stood in formation, and amongst them was a woman with golden locks, her regal bearing hinting at royal ties. The realization struck Victor – it was the Queen, Raphael's wife, and Rose's mother.
Curiosity mingled with concern, he muttered to his companions, "This complicates matters. Why would the Queen be here with armed guards? Could she be coerced or willingly involved in the Cult's schemes?"
Baul, ever vigilant, suggested, "Perhaps they're using her as leverage against King Raphael."
Modeus, her eyes narrowing in scrutiny, commented, "Whatever the case, it seems the Cult's influence has penetrated the highest echelons of Oriana's royalty." The trio weighed their options, recognizing that unraveling the truth within the ruins would be crucial.
Victor, with a sardonic look, mused to his companions, "Look at that. The Queen seems to be having a cozy chat with our friends. Either she's an adept actress or there's more to her story than meets the eye. What do you think?"
Baul, crossing his arms, added with a hint of skepticism, "Seems fishy, if you ask me, my lord. Queens don't usually cozy up to cultists unless there's some dark plot afoot."
Modeus, her expression cool and analytical, remarked, "It's possible she's under some form of influence or manipulation. We should proceed cautiously. Confronting her directly might not yield the answers we seek."
The trio, hidden behind the trees, observed with heightened interest as Queen Oriana presented her palm to the glyph. The altar responded with a mystical glow, unveiling a concealed platform. On it, a box emerged, containing an item of significant importance – the royal inheritance of Oriana.
A glint of curiosity sparkled in Victor's eyes as he whispered, "That box there, that's what King Raphael spoke of. The Oriana family's legacy. Could that be the key to the potential chaos the Cult of Diablos seeks?"
Baul, always direct, suggested, "Should we intervene, my lord?"
Modeus, assessing the situation, replied, "Not yet. Let's see how this plays out. We need to understand their motives and plans before making a move."
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"We were right. The Royal Blood is the key. This is the ring of the legend. Protected by the Hero Freya" The group assigned to retrieve the ring, the Diablos Children, consists of dozens of heavily armed men.
BOOM
In the midst of the ancient ruins, a resonating boom echoed through the air, capturing the attention of both the cultists and Victor along with his companions.
Amid the moonlit scene, a pink-haired girl emerged, suspended in mid-air. She wore the unmistakable black slimesuit, the uniform of the Shadow Garden organization, a sight that instantly caught Victor's discerning gaze.
"Shadow Garden?" Baul and Modeus simultaneously.
"As expected" Victor shook his head in a somewhat exasperated manner. "Shadow Garden always has to make an entrance, huh? Well, as long as they don't mess with our plans, let them do their thing." He spoke with a hint of sarcasm, acknowledging the tendency of Shadow Garden to intervene in various situations.
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"Time for execution..."
"Who the hell are you?!"
WOOSH
CLASH
Rose's sudden intervention caught Victor off guard. He watched with a mixture of surprise and concern as she parried the attack aimed at the queen. The clash of swords echoed through the ruins, creating a tense atmosphere.
"Rose...?"
Victor's heart pounded as he tried to make sense of the unexpected reunion with Rose. The air crackled with tension, mirroring the complex emotions that surged within him. He couldn't help but recall the times he searched for her, the worry etched on his face when she vanished into the shadows.
Now, seeing Rose intervene in a confrontation involving the Oriana royal family and the Cult of Diablos, Victor grappled with conflicting emotions. A part of him was relieved to see her alive and well, while another part felt a pang of betrayal at the realization that Rose might be aligned with Shadow Garden, an organization shrouded in mystery.
The ruins echoed with the clash of swords and the unfolding drama. Victor's gaze remained fixed on Rose, trying to decipher her motives and understand the role she played in this intricate web of alliances and conflicts. The stakes were higher than ever, and the tangled threads of fate seemed to converge in this fateful encounter.
As the moon cast an ethereal glow on the scene, Victor couldn't escape the gravity of the moment. The pink-haired girl from Shadow Garden and Rose continued their intense battle, each move etching a new chapter in the unfolding saga. Victor's presence in the shadows became both a silent observer and a participant in a narrative that seemed to transcend time and space.
To Be Continued
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