To kick off my main series, I'm gonna write a battle I've been wanting to see done for quite some time. Let's see how it works. I will be using mostly Dante's DMC4 arsenal and Kratos' GoW3 arsenal, though there may be a weapon or two from different games in their series.
I do not own God of War, nor do I own Devil May Cry. Both intellectual properties belong to their respective owners, as well as Sony.
It was a quiet day at Devil May Cry. Though this could be explained partly because Dante had slaughtered thousands of demons not even a day ago in his fight against Sanctus and the Savior. He'd met quite a few new faces, most of which he killed. The only demon he really left alive was that kid, Nero.
Dante was an aged man, around his 20s or 30s, had shining white hair, and a face that would make most women swoon. He wore a red coat and black jeans, and had combat boots on his feet. He also had what appeared to be a few belts on his shirt.
And right now he was sleeping. Having a nightmare.
"Mmrh… ugh. What? Rruh… why is my hair black?... rugh… what happened to Rebellion?"
He was awakened by a loud noise.
A figure appeared through the shop's now (once again) broken door. He was bald, had extremely pale skin, save for some red markings on his face, chest, and left arm, walked around in nothing but a skirt and sandals, along with some golden armor on his right arm. There seemed to be a large scar on his stomach. He was carrying two ornate short swords. They seemed to be attached to chains, those chains seeming to be attached to his body. How they were attached Dante didn't care to know. He seemed angry and confused at the same time.
"Hello, boy. I have come for the weapons you own. Give me your finest arms, and I will leave you and your shop unharmed." Kratos said, sneering.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa… You think you can just barge in here and demand my weapons? Who do you think you are, a god?" Dante replied.
"As a matter of fact, yes, I do, and yes, I am. I have traveled to many locations, even through time, to find power strong enough to exact my revenge on Zeus. You will not stop me."
Well. Dante thought. This is interesting.
Kratos then proceeded to strut across the shop, examining weapons. One weapon, a double-edged sword with wings on the handle, caught his interest. He grabbed it off the wall, and gave it a stern look, as if it did something wrong by not being as powerful as he wanted. Just then he heard a loud bang and felt a sharp pain in the hand he was holding the sword with. He dropped the sword and cursed.
He looked toward Dante, and saw him holding an oddly angled black piece of metal. There was smoke coming from the end farthest from Dante's hand.
"That was your only warning shot. Leave now, or I'll have to aim for more vital places." he said, aiming the gun at Kratos' groin.
"You fool! You are dealing with a god of war! I will crush you if you get in my way! Just as I crushed Ares!" Kratos was visibly angry now.
Great. Dante thought. Another nutjob.
Dante buried his face into one of his palms. He was visibly angry now as well, but not to the point Kratos was at. It was more of a mild annoyance.
"Have it your way, freak." With that, Dante grabbed a sword that had a skeletal design in between the blade and handle, as well as a white version of the gun he fired at Kratos' hand, and rushed at blinding speed toward Kratos. He got in a few good hits before Kratos managed to grab his short swords and block with them. Kratos then kicked Dante across the room, into the jukebox. The jukebox began to play death metal, and Dante fell to the ground.
"Ugh… well, I gotta admit, for all that talk, I thought you were just gonna be another wannabe." Dante taunted after getting off the ground, "But now I see you pack quite a punch. This should be loads of fun."
Before he could react, however, Kratos threw the short sword, which was now on fire somehow, straight at Dante. Dante narrowly dodged it, and Kratos retracted it by pulling back as soon as he saw it missed. He threw a second time, and this time it connected.
Dante grunted in slight pain. This wasn't something he faced every day, but he wasn't too damaged, aside from his shirt getting a tear in it.
"Hey, tall, pale and angry, that was my favorite shirt! I think when I'm done kicking your ass I'll have you work off the six hundred dollar debt you just got!" Dante was more angry now. He wasn't going to let this slide.
Kratos pulled a bow of wind out, and began shooting arrows at Dante. Dante swiftly dodged this barrage, but Kratos didn't seem to be content with one salvo. He kept shooting and shooting and shooting and shooting. Dante got nicked in the face, and a slight cut appeared. This nanosecond of pain was all Kratos needed to take advantage of. He shot roughly a dozen arrows into Dante, who was getting angrier and angrier with each shot. He then started to block the arrows with his arms, a mysterious power building up inside him with each arrow he blocked.
After about twenty shots were blocked, he began to grow a natural armour. It enveloped his entire body, until he was a walking tank. The armour made him look more insectoid than anything else, with glowing markings on his chest and neck areas. He then began to casually walk toward Kratos, who was still firing arrows in vain. Each arrow flew off Dante's shell as if they were plastic. He then closed in on Kratos, who had since stopped firing arrows and had just now gotten his blades out, and punched him square in the gut. Kratos doubled over in pain, coughing up blood.
"This was over before it started." Dante casually commented. Then Kratos burst out into a rage, producing a huge blue and gold sword that was almost as long as he was tall. He did a backflip and swung the sword at the air. To Dante's surprise, a burst of energy came out of the sword and completely destroyed Dante's armour. Dante fell on the ground, but quickly got back up.
"Whew! You sure know how to show a lady a good time, baldy!" Dante then grabbed a steel backpack with metal "wings" on it, and rushed toward Kratos. He seemed to salsa dance in Kratos' general direction, which materialised red, dartlike blades in the air, but more often into Kratos' flesh. There didn't seem to be an end to how many blades he could summon. Dante then stepped back.
And he threw a rose at Kratos.
The blades within Kratos' skin began to pulsate and glow, until they literally exploded. Kratos had never felt such agony in his life. Being stabbed with the Blade of Olympus had seemingly been the worst injury he would ever face, until now. Each explosion launched him into the air, until they were all gone. He fell to the ground. With a lot of effort, Kratos was able to get up, though maintaining that stance was exponentially harder than it should have been.
"I…. will not be defeated…. by a mortal like you….." He grabbed a pair of picks that had a purple glow. He slashed them at Dante, hooking into his flesh. Now it was Dante's turn to feel agony. Feel his soul get ripped out. It was one of the hardest things he had done in his life, almost harder than killing Mundus, but he managed to resist. He then grabbed the chains the picks were attached to, and used his sword to slash them off the picks. He then threw the picks aside.
That was all it took. Dante was about as angry as he'd ever been. A bolt of orange lightning struck him, and he had grown insectoid wings, his coat had merged with his body, and he had a glowing marking on the chest.
"You just signed your own death warrant, old man!" Dante bellowed, his voice seeming more spectral, and sounding as if there were multiple voices saying what he was saying.
He teleported toward Kratos, and drove his sword straight into the scar in Kratos' chest. He twisted it and plunged it until he could do so no more.
He had calmed down, his insectoid form fading away. He looked at Kratos. He was dead. The life in his eyes had long since left. He was lying in a pool of blood.
Dante had won.
Well, that was an experience. I gotta say, for my very first fanfic, it was a lot of fun. I love these two games, and a death battle between these two is always a subject of debate. Surprisingly, it's quite one-sided for such a popular debate.