Chapter 4: Lock 'n Load
Bael stepped forward, to the center of the bloodstained apartment. He gestured to his demonic companions, demanding their compliance; not being foolish, they all stepped back to the edge of the room. Dante smirked and put away his guns. "Ohhh, you want a one-on-one, eh? That's cool, I can take you on." Casually, he strutted towards his opponent, and both fighters put their hands upon their swords.
"You're certainly a confident one," mused Bael as he began to circle Dante.
"Hey, if you did the crap I've done and come out alive, you'd be cocky too."
Bael grinned and leapt at Dante with devilish speed. Their massive blades seemed to fly off the warriors' backs of their own accord, a pair of demon swords wielded with expert skill. There was a deafening metallic clang as Bael's blade became acquainted with the Force Edge; Dante swung his father's blade around for a second blow and was matched in an instant by Bael's speed. The sounds of combat rang through the air, blows being traded nearly beyond the limit of human sight, and then, they separated- a powerful attack repelled both demons, sending them skidding across the floor.
Dante, however, was not finished. He adjusted his stance and charged, the Force Edge gouging the floor open as he dragged it in his wake. Bael did not move an inch- nor even display the slightest hint of concern. Sparda's son attacked with all of his might... in vain. In what seemed to be a single fluid movement, Bael managed to not only deflect the attack, but deliver a grievous kick to the side of Dante's head, sending him flying across the room. Dante collided unceremoniously with the wall, Force Edge sliding over the hardwood after him and coming to a halt at his feet.
"A wonderful effort, boy, but you should really consider a new career if you're calling yourself a demon hunter," said Bael as he resheathed his greatsword. Once more he gesticulated towards his companions, and they began to walk towards the door. One by one, they left, but Bael stayed behind. He said to Dante, as the red devil groaned and clutched his aching head, "We are going to the Temen-Ni-Gru. We've been watching you for some time; all those demons you've killed were but a trifle compared to us. If you choose to interfere... we'll kill you, and all those you hold dear. That girl you keep around your office looks like someone you wouldn't want to endanger... now, be a good boy and stay out of our way."
With that, he left.
Dante stayed on the floor for a while; he hadn't taken a hit like that in years. When he was finally able to stand, he thought over what Bael had said before making his decision. It took all of ten seconds, but the point was, he decided. He had never listened to anyone else's warnings before, why start now? He'd just follow 'em and kill 'em, and that would be that. 'Lady can defend herself,' he thought. 'She's tougher than she looks.'
Dante finished considering his options (if giving the proverbial finger to your enemies and doing whatever you feel like is "considering"), stood up, and strapped Force Edge to his back. Before he left, he spared a quick glance around the loft; his eyes went to the bloodstained walls, the blood-smeared floor, the corpses of the cultists scattered here and there, the massive cleft in the hardwood that he had dragged his sword through, and the cracked drywall, some of which was still stuck to his back.
"Man," he said to himself, "this dude ain't gettin' his deposit back on this place."