The Legacy of Sparda
It was midnight in the town of Transylvania, a lone man walked along the streets, hungry for another battle. His name was Vincent Belmont and he was a vampire hunter, he had heard of a man who killed over a thousand vampires around the world and Vincent was eager to hunt him down and find out just how powerful he was. When Vincent approached a nearby tavern, he peered inside to see if the man was there. Red coat, short silver hair, and a long blade, that was the appearance of his prey. Vincent hopped up on the roof of the tavern and lay down some matches; he then reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a liter. Carefully setting the matches on fire, Vincent crept off the roof and made his way a safe distance away from the tavern. "Let's see if you can handle the heat…Sparda." Vincent whispered to himself as the flames began to engulf the tavern. There were screams, but they were quickly silenced as the tavern was reduced to ashes. Vincent raised an eye brow in amusement as the one he called 'Sparda' emerged from the flames.
Dante Sparda, the one responsible for the deaths of most of the most deadly vampires around the world, emerged from the flames of what used to be a Transylvanian tavern, he did not look impressed. "Who are you and what do you want? I was having such a good meal, so this had better be good." He said to Vincent with his cold voice. Vincent just unsheathed his sword and pointed it at Dante replying "I'm here to test your abilities…Sparda." Before Dante had a chance to respond, Vincent charged at him, slashing left and right, up and down. Dante barely managed to dodge his attacks. "You're good Sparda, but I still have the upper hand because you're off guard!" Vincent slashed at Dante again and Dante blocked his attack then pushed Vincent back. Time after time, the vampires in which Vincent had encountered were weak and hardly worth calling true vampires. This time, he would test the skills of Dante Sparda, the legendary Vampire hunter of Transylvania. Dante sheathed his sword swiftly and threw a punch at his foe; it proved to be useless for Vincent dodged and slashed at Dante's face, he succeeded in opening a cut on his left cheek. Dante jumped back and unsheathed his blade; he then made an attempt to draw his pistol but failed when Vincent appeared behind him and thrust his sword into Dante's back "A-Augh!" Dante coughed up some blood and then pulled the sword out, revealing a bloody mark on his chest. Dante threw Vincent's sword aside and a shadowy look came over his face, he didn't know who this Vincent Belmont was, or what he wanted, but Dante knew he was a threat and needed to be killed.
Moments passed since Dante Sparda and Vincent Belmont had engaged in their battle. Both were feeling exhausted from the attacks they had delivered and received. Vincent panted and wiped the sweat off of his brow, they had been fighting for at least three hours now and it was beginning to show that they could not fight for much longer. As strong as they were, and as good as their abilities were, they were still humans and get wearied out after a time.
"Let's end this now Vincent Belmont" Dante announced as he threw away the pistol that proved to be useless against such a swift adversary. Blade in hand Vincent and Dante charged at each other, both with the intent to kill. There was a "clang!" and a "snap!" as the Vampire Hunters' swords shattered. Dante found a chance opening to attack Vincent with the broken end of his blade; he picked it up and jammed it into the side of Vincent's neck. Blood sprayed as Vincent's eyes widened, he then murmured "I see…so you were as good as they claimed you to be…" with a sickening 'thud' Vincent Belmont fell to the ground in a pool of his own blood.
Dante gave Vincent one last cold look before taking a deep breath and moving forward. He would continue on his quest to find his brother and defeat him. Vergil Sparda, Dante's older brother was not yet dead, ever since the brothers had encountered each other; they were still both well alive and had hungered to kill each other for years. A wandering spirit was what Dante had been left with…the wandering spirit with a lust and a hatred of his brother.