Author's note: Okay, so just a heads-up. This is actually the second update in just a few days. Some of you may have missed the previous chapter. So if that's the case, make sure to back and catch that one.

Now, on to the chapter itself. Earlier, I recall saying that Dante would actually meet opponents who would genuinely challenge him. It's about time I deliver on that.

I don't know how many of you remember this, but one of the coolest things about any good DMC game is that it's a party. From the very beginning, you know shit's going down, and everything is crazy.

Well, buckle up.

This party's finally getting started.

Chapter 38: Chaos Unbound, Part I

Dante looked up from the Scroll he was holding.

"Well, that isn't good," he said.

"I'm glad we're doing understatements," said Yang.

"This is really not good," said Blake. "Atlas was always a problem. Now this…"

She clenched her fists. Many Faunus were stuck in the frozen land. And while the Kingdom's official stance was that it had abolished slavery, Blake knew better. While the White Fang had gone off the deep end a while back, their actions had not come unprovoked. The Schnee Dust Company's mining operations took place behind the veil of secrecy, and thanks to its importance to Atlas, not to mention the other Kingdoms, the organisation was allowed to get away with a lot, so long as they made sure everything was kept from the public. Despite their best efforts, of course, word got around. Most Faunus knew exactly what the SDC was like.

Speaking of Schnee's…

"Where's Weiss?" asked Ruby, voicing everyone's thoughts. "Does she know about this?"

The heiress was estranged from her parents. Aside from the visit from her sister, the team had not seen any signs of contact between the huntress and her family. She had chosen to come to Vale instead of continuing at Atlas' state military run hunter academy. Nevertheless, estranged though she might be, she would be worried about things back home.

"Hold on," said Yang. "I'll call her over."

So saying, she began to sift through her contacts on her Scroll, only for a message to pop up on the device.

Network unavailable. Unable to make calls or access CCT Net.

"What the fuck?"

"Language," said Dante. Peering over, he looked at her Scroll.

"What does this mean?" asked Ruby.

Blake swore under her breath.

The severing of ties between Vale and Atlas was public news. And it had been announced by Atlas themselves. Once upon a time, this would automatically have triggered enough widespread panic to bring about the end days via Grimm invasion. But the presence of the Council of Five in Vale, not to mention Dante himself, had emboldened the people. Even without Atlas, the Kingdom wasn't helpless. At least, that was what they had believed.

The network failure wasn't any coincidence.

"Atlas must have shut down the communication towers," said Blake.

"No way!" said Yang. "Why the hell would they do that?"

"No longer allies, remember?"

"That's really, really not good," said Ruby.

The Cross Continental Transit system was what allowed people across the Kingdoms to communicate. Without it…

"We're all cut off," said Blake. "All of Remnant's disconnected."

"Where the hell's Weiss?" said Yang. "I'll go get her."

Without waiting for an answer, she ran off.

Dante would normally not have been bothered, since they were in Hoperow. But his instincts told him that something was very, very wrong. Getting off his chair, he walked over to the window. The people of the town had been kind enough to let him and the huntresses stay over at one of their inns for free. Hoperow was, all things told, not too different from any small town on Remnant or even Earth. Dante certainly would not have been worried about his students in a place like this, under ordinary conditions.

Opening the window, he looked outside, up at the sky.

"Dante?" said Ruby, noting his silence. "What's going on?"

"The moon's gone," the Hunter replied.

That wasn't all though. The disappearance of an entire celestial body was nothing to scoff at. But even besides that, the air was different. Heavier. The darkness was stronger, and all of the town lights felt faint, frail. He had experienced this before. This sense of foreboding, of impending doom.

Demons…

He wasn't sure how he knew.

Perhaps it was simply the intuition forged from doing this his entire life. Perhaps it was the fact that he had experienced this kind of scenario five times before. No matter how, though, he knew.

"Stay together," he told Ruby and Blake. "And keep your guards up."

He closed his eyes, focusing on his sense of smell.

Normally, he could locate a specific human within around ten miles or so by scent if he concentrated.

Tonight…

Can't sense them.

Something about this darkness was blocking his senses.

"Dante. What's going on?" asked Blake. The Faunus was on edge, one hand on the hilt of her weapon. Next to her, Ruby had Crescent Rose out, in its folded form.

"World's under attack," he answered.

His normal levity was nowhere to be found. The switch had been flipped. This was not the easygoing proprietor of the Devil May Cry. It was the Legendary Devil Hunter. And his choice of words hadn't gone unnoticed.

The experience of life and death battles kicked in, and both huntresses blocked out fear and hesitation, entering razor sharp focus as they quickly assessed the situation.

"Weiss and Yang," said Ruby.

"I'll look for them," Dante replied. "You two, stay together. Gather the townsfolk, keep them safe."

It was his first time giving instructions in a situation like this. Not that he hadn't had companions before in times of crisis, but Lady, Nero and Trish hadn't needed him to tell them what to do. He felt responsible for his students, in a different way. But they were huntresses. And right now, they were needed.

The two girls nodded and dashed off.

Dante turned to the window, and leapt out. Flipping through the air, he landed smoothly on the cobbled path outside.

Can't rely on my sense of smell.

He couldn't detect individual demonic energy signatures right now either. This strange darkness was like a fog, a wet blanket dampening his senses. He'd have no choice but to search blindly. No matter what, he couldn't waste any time.

He snapped his fingers, and the world around him seemed to turn grey. He was no longer seeing it the normal way; light itself was frozen, unable to reach his eyes, unable to move, because time had stopped.

Quicksilver.

Dante had slipped outside the flow of time using the Geryon's power. While he still experienced relative time, the world around him was immobile. Without wasting a moment, he dashed off, sprinting down the town's streets. Normally, he would have flown high above using his wings and looked for the two missing students. But the unnatural darkness clouding the world was severely limiting his field of vision. He had no choice but to search the entire town until he found them.

As he ran, the realisation hit him that whatever was clouding his sight was functioning even now, in stopped time, when light itself was not an issue.

Whatever's causing this… it's powerful.

He needed to find those two quick.

Streets and alleys passed by, as did several of the townsfolk, frozen in place like statues, looks of alarm on their faces. It seemed they had sensed something was wrong as well, and had come out of their houses.

Can't stop. I'll come back for them once I find Weiss and Yang.

As he zipped around a corner, his instincts flashed a warning.

He activated Royal Guard, particles accelerating to a state of motion that made them untouchable.

Get out of my way.

He dashed forward, right through the threat, absorbing its energy and redirecting it, as he had done countless times before.

For the first time in his life, he felt the energy he had redirected being deflected right back at him.

The Royal Release' intangibility allowed the attack to pass through him harmlessly.

The instant counter had been countered. Both fighters slid forward, following through with their punches.

Dante's eyes widened, and he turned around slowly.

Behind him stood a figure a little shorter than himself. It was male, well built but lean and wiry. The being wore a simple black sleeveless vest that left his muscular arms exposed. His trousers were loose fitting and rough. Tied around his waist was a white cloth belt. He wore plain black shoes. Dark hair framed his face like a lion's mane.

Dante frowned.

He had fought many demons over the course of his life.

Most had been pompous, with forms to match. The figure before him now looked human, and did not carry himself with any of the ceremony or arrogance of demon lords. But he moved through Quicksilver's world of stopped time as easily and calmly as walking through a field of flowers.

Dante released his hold on the power, allowing time to resume. Whoever this was, he was strong, and Quicksilver had no effect on him. He couldn't afford to waste demon energy when facing him.

"Well met, Dante."

"Who are you?" the Devil Hunter asked, skipping the usual trash talk.

"Just a martial artist. I've travelled quite a way in search of the famed Legendary Dark Knight. Please, do me the honour of facing me in battle."

Oh, great.

It was another one of these types.

"I don't have time right now," he replied. He began to turn and leave, when the figure spoke again.

"Ah, you search for your pupils. You're a good teacher and a good man."

Without warning, Dante spun and charged forward towards him. If he was connected to all of this somehow, then he would get answers out of him.

The Demon's eyes flashed red, and he smiled.

Dante held out his hand, and his namesake blade appeared in it. He thrust it forward, aiming for the heart.

The Demon's stance barely changed. He slid one leg back. It was a minimal adjustment, but it put his body out of the blade's reach. As he did so, he swung one arm outward in a circular movement, hitting the flat of the sword and knocking it aside.

Dante had been expecting it, and shifted into a two-handed grip, aiming to smoothly follow up with a diagonal slash. Before he could even begin to swing, the Demon took another step forward, clearing the blade. With one hand, he blocked Dante's forearm, preventing him from swinging, while with the other, he jabbed at the Devil Hunter's face.

An ordinary swordsman would have already been defeated.

But while Dante was an incredible swordsman, he was far from dependent on his sword.

Devil Sword Dante disappeared instantly. Instead, gauntlets and greaves appeared on his arms and legs. He hadn't been planning on using this weapon because of its incredible destructive power, but now was no time to be holding back unnecessarily.

Dual Devil Arm: Raijin+Balrog

Moving his head to the side, he slipped the Demon's punch and countered with one of his own. Fire and lightning flashed around his armoured fist as it shot towards his opponent's face.

The blow was deflected easily, just like the first slash had been.

Dante's frown was mirrored by the Demon's smile.

The mysterious martial artist fired off two quick punches, and Dante stepped back, avoiding both of them.

"You're starting to really piss me off, you know that?"

He was in a hurry, and he was done playing around.

Focusing, he drew on his innate demonic power, as well as that within Raijin and Balrog, amplifying his strength by thousands of times.

Stepping forward, he pivoted his rear leg, hips and torso, putting his entire body's weight and power into a single right cross.

The impact that followed should have been large enough to completely shatter the buildings on both sides of the street just from the shockwave.

It barely managed to crack the ground.

The Demon was holding Dante's gauntleted fist in one hand. The smile was still on his face.

What the hell…

"Not bad at all. Unarmed fighting isn't your specialty, but your technique is commendable."

As though noticing the expression on Dante's face, his own became one of puzzlement, until a look of dawning realisation appeared on it.

"Ah, you're confused. With your strength, you were probably expecting a much greater result than this. Unfortunately, I can't be beaten with strength."

"Like hell you can't.

Dante swung his other arm at him, only to have it be caught with just as much ease.

"Be calm, noble warrior. This isn't like you."

Try as he might, Dante could not pull his arms free, though he anchored himself firmly and pulled backward with all his strength. If he transformed, would that be enough?

For the first time in his life, he wasn't sure of the answer.

"Still not calm? It seems recent events may have distorted your grasp of the truth, Dante. Very well. Let me put this in terms that should be easier to understand."

The Demon's eyes flashed.

For a brief instant, Dante was able to sense his Demonic aura.

An overwhelming pressure assailed him, reminiscent of when he fought Vergil… or when he fought Lucifer.

"Your battle with Lucifer was incredible, Dante. But make no mistake. The Lightbringer himself cannot defeat me with strength."

Dante's eyes barely had time to widen.

Both his arms were pulled away, leaving his front completely open. Before he could put his guard up again, the Demon had taken a step forward, right into Dante's range, and placed his fingertips against the Devil Hunter's sternum.

The one inch punch that followed was harder than any blow Vergil had ever landed on him with Beowulf, harder than Nero's enraged haymakers thrown with his Devil Bringer.

"Well well. Seems you can do it if you try."

Had that blow landed, Dante estimated that his entire torso would have been blown apart. Unable to dodge or block, he had taken it head-on, concentrating the Royal Guard's damage negation abilities at the point of impact.

Even so, he was sent sliding backward several feet.

It had been a while since Dante had encountered an adversary capable of gaining the advantage against him in a direct clash.

However, if all it took to beat him was power, the name "Legendary Devil Hunter" would not have existed.

In that tense situation, Dante had noted every detail of the blows he had exchanged with the mysterious fighter, and analysed them.

His technique's excellent. If it's pure hand-to-hand combat, he's far and away the best I've faced.

It was true. The Demon's footwork, position, defence and attacks all had minimal movement. They looked incredibly simple… and that itself was the sure sign of mastery. His technique was so refined that it had become as natural as the act of breathing, as natural as merely existing to him. Muscular release and tension, body positioning, timing, awareness and precision: all perfect. And he made it look and feel easy.

Whoever this Demon was, Dante knew he wasn't lying.

Beating him in a fistfight's out of the question. If that's the case…

He flipped out his handguns.

While he'd taught his students quite a few things, he'd been learning from them too.

For the second time, he charged in.

The Demon's eyes flashed with excitement. This time, he dashed in to meet Dante.

They closed in, entering the range at which kicks and punches could connect.

Dante threw a straight left kick. As expected, it was parried aside with the flat of the hand. But before Dante's foot had even landed back down, he fired Ebony.

The Demon leaned his torso to the side, avoiding the shot.

For the first time, he'd been forced to dodge.

Dante followed up on the assault, throwing a left-right combo with his hands. Instead of aiming to hit with his fists, Dante was thrusting the barrels of Ebony and Ivory, looking to connect with them. Again, both blows were deflected easily. Before the counter could come, however, Dante fired Ivory, held in his right hand, in the guard position.

The Demon was forced to knock the bullet aside with his fist.

Long ago, his encounters with Vergil at the Temen ni gru had taught Dante that relying on firearms against powerful demons was an unsound strategy. However, he had been younger and weaker then than he was now. And he certainly hadn't had the chance to witness Yang Xiao Long's form of gun fu.

I can't beat him with my fists, or my guns. But what if I combined both?

The trigger could be pulled at any time. It was a small movement that required no load up, and very little pre-positioning. Dante could fire at the end of a punch, any time during it. He could fire to interrupt any attempts the martial artist made to start up offence.

He launched into a chain of brutal punches, switching between hooks, feints, uppercuts, jabs and straights, all while firing in different rhythms, at different parts of the opponent. Empowered by demon energy, Ebony and Ivory fired faster than light, each shot capable of tearing a named devil apart.

"Outstanding."

Standing his ground, the Martial Artist countered with a barrage of his own.

Fist met bullet.

Crimson energy tore through the darkness.

Dante had managed to level the playing field.

And even so, the Demon was holding his own, using palms, elbows and fists to strike down each of Dante's shots, as well as each of his punches.

If the Legendary Devil Hunter hadn't been so pressed for time, he would actually have taken a moment to pause in admiration.

"I've fought a lot of demons… who are you?" he asked.

The fighter did not answer with words.

Instead, his power and speed surged.

Dante used Trickster style to teleport backward while summoning his Doppelganger to take his place.

A palm thrust connected to the double, shattering it immediately.

But it had bought Dante enough time to switch to Kalina Ann and couple the two rocket launchers, activating their hidden cannon form. Pumping demon power into the weapon, he fired a blast of pure destructive energy that erased any matter in its path.

The Demon stood his ground, making no attempt to dodge.

Instead, he brought both hands up in front of him, moving them in a circular path.

What formed along that path was not a circle of demonic runes.

It was a golden arc formed of the very concept of movement.

The very idea of movement, manifested.

Something greater than reality, overwriting reality.

Kalina Ann's blast was curved upward, breaking the laws of physics.

The beam tore through darkness, fog and clouds alike, forming a hole in the very sky before it dissipated.

"Well met, Dante. I am Sura, a humble student of the fist."

Demon names did not lie.

Dante's knowledge of sanskrit was limited, but the meaning of this name was one that any decent demon hunter would know. Ashura was a name defined by what it was the opposite of. A-Shura. Demons were the opposite of true divine beings.

Dante remembered Malevar's explanation.

The name Sura meant God, Deity, Divine Being.

Between that and the skills he had already demonstrated, Dante knew exactly who he was facing.

"Humble student, huh?" the Devil Hunter said. "False modesty comes across as a jerk move, just saying."

The Demon, if he could be called that, laughed.

"As quick with your words as your guns. I like that," he said.

Dante did not smile. Out of all the possible opponents he could have run into, this was the worst.

"What's the god of fighting doing on this planet?" he asked. "Shouldn't you be beating up Saiyans or something?"

"Oh, I was approached by your ancestor. He told me I might have interesting experiences if I came here."

Dante mentally swore.

Lucifer. What is your problem?!

He flipped out Ebony and Ivory, and prepared to engage again. Twenty feet away, Sura's stance remained the same, but his fighting energy surged. Before either of them could make a move, however, the darkness around them changed. Dante felt demonic magic activate in the world. This type of magic was familiar. It warped space.

Sura clicked his teeth.

"How unfortunate. I was hoping our first meeting wouldn't be cut short. Oh well. We will meet again."

The air between the two fighters began to darken, and Sura began to fade from view.

Dante's mind was racing. That one sentence had given a lot of information. And yet, too little.

"Wait!" he shouted. "What's going on here? Who the hell is behind all this?"

"Stay sharp, Dante. More demons than you thought had made their way to this world. And I'm not the only one here."

The smile on the Martial Artist's face was nearly bursting with excitement.

"They stalk this place, thirsty for blood and battle. The smallest lapse in focus, the tiniest error, will lead to death.

Struggle. Fight. Survive. Do not weaken, even for an instant. Revel in this night, for I will do the same."

Darkness became an impenetrable wall, and Sura disappeared from sight.

Dante swore. He was out of reach now. If the Devil Hunter tried stepping through the darkness, there was no guarantee he would reach the same place as the Martial Artist. Turning around, he examined the other available paths. He could sense multiple warps in space. The streets and alleys ahead would loop, or simply transport Dante to places they shouldn't. This type of magic was used frequently by demon lords in their lairs, to ensnare anyone foolish enough to wander in. It was designed to separate groups, so that everyone would be alone, and at their most vulnerable.

But this isn't a lair.

And besides, there were already five demon lords here.

And yet, that hadn't dissuaded whoever it was that had done this.

No, the culprit, whoever they were, had come prepared to shed blood as well as spill it. And they weren't acting alone. Sura had revealed that much. He didn't seem to be allied with them.

Heh. He really did show up just to fight.

But not every demon would have the same notions of fair play.

The longer this night went on, the more people would die.

Dante shook his head.

Can't let that happen.

He changed objectives. His best bet now was to find whichever demon was causing the spatial warps, and destroy it. Until that was done, finding and saving everyone would be near-impossible.

With this in mind, he ran forward, right into a near-imperceptible portal, knowing it would take him deeper into the maze that Hoperow had become.

I'll be there soon. Until then… you lot better not die.

Oscar sat up in bed. The usual grogginess of waking up was absent. He was sharp, senses on edge, heart pounding in his chest. Sheer instinct and adrenaline had eliminated all sluggishness. Something was very wrong. Rolling off the bed, he ran over to the window. It was still night. But the darkness was different somehow. Heavier. The silence was so thick, he could hear his own heart.

While he usually liked the freedom of having a house to himself, right about now, being alone at home was not a good feeling. Opening his bedroom door, he made his way down the stairs on tiptoes, grasping the handrail tightly for safety, even as he stepped as silently as he could. He had not switched on the light. Something about the darkness was eerie. There was no rational explanation for how he knew this, but know it he did: something was out there, watching. And turning on the light would draw its attention.

Managing to make it to the living room, he stepped carefully, using what little reflected light there was, along with his outstretched hands, to half see and half feel his way through the house. He managed to reach the store room door, and opened it as quietly as he could. A lot of households in Remnant kept some or the other weapon around in case of a Grimm attack. Oscar didn't own a gun or a shifter weapon. The best he had were his farming tools. Reaching inside, he grabbed a familiar handle, and pulled out his pitchfork. At the moment, it felt like little more than a pointed stick. But it was better than nothing.

Grasping the handle tightly with both hands, he carefully walked back through the living room, till he was in front of the main entrance. Here, he put his back to the wall, right next to the door, and stood still. His heart was pounding fit to burst.

Stay calm.

If they broke in, as soon as they stepped past the threshold, he would run them through. He hoped that would be enough. And even more than that, he hoped he wouldn't have to find out.

Footsteps. He could hear them approaching. Heavy. Far too heavy to be human.

He swallowed, and tightened his grip on the wooden haft.

Outside, a hand gripped the doorknob and turned it. The metal clicked violently, rattling the entire door, but held. It was turned a second time, with such force that the knob was twisted clean off.

The door was pushed open.

It's now or never.

Heart in his mouth, Oscar pushed past his fear, and charged, driving the pitchfork forward.

Its path was halted, as though he had hit a wall. Try as he might, he could not push it further. In the darkness, he was able to make out that an enormous figure was before him, and it had caught the makeshift weapon with one hand.

Panic nearly made him drop the pitchfork.

Before he could react, it was pulled out of his grip.

I'm about to die.

A hand shot forward, grabbing his arm with inhuman strength. He knew from the grip alone that it was useless to resist. Before he knew what was happening, he was lifted off the ground. His eyes closed, and he prepared to be crushed to death.

Instead, he heard a familiar voice.

"Oscar. You're alive. Good."

The relief in the voice was nearly as great as that he was feeling.

"Lady Valkyrie!"

He had gotten better at reading her expressions over time. Good enough that even in the dim light, he could see the worry and relief on her face.

"I"m sorry," he said quickly. "I didn't know it was you."

"Don't apologise. You did the right thing. Always be decisive when faced with danger."

In one hand, she held the pitchfork she had so easily pulled out of his grasp. It was a reminder how powerless he was against the dangers that walked Remnant now.

As if reading his mind, she put him down gently.

"Do not worry," she said. "I am here now. Stay close to me."

In that situation, hearing those particular words, from that particular person, hit Oscar's teenage brain like a veritable lightning bolt. He felt his face grow red, and could practically hear the steam coming out of his ears. He shook his head. Now was not the time to be thinking about that!

Wait, hold on.

Valkyrie was here. That meant she had come looking for him.

Dangerous though the situation may be, that knowledge had all kinds of effects on the young man.

"Stay sharp," the demoness said.

Her voice was low, quiet.

That in itself was a worrying sign.

Valkyrie was absurdly powerful, and equally proud. For her to even consider lowering her voice and concealing her presence sobered Oscar up immediately.

"What's going on?" he whispered. "It's some demon, isn't it?"

"More than one," she answered, just as quietly. "One of them is a sorcerer of some kind. This town's pathways have been twisted: space itself has been bent. Hoperow has been turned into a maze. The odds of finding you were one in thousands."

Oscar tried not to think of what might happen if someone else had found him first.

"Why are they doing this?"

"This sort of magic is used to isolate targets. They seek to separate us, hunt us down, one by one."

"W-what do we do?"

"Escape," Valkyrie answered. The word felt unfamiliar in her mouth, but she did not hesitate. If she were alone, she would have faced down whoever dared attempt such trickery without a second thought. But she was not alone. No matter what, her first priority was to protect the boy.

"What about everyone else?" asked Oscar.

"Do not worry. Dante must already be on the hunt for whoever is casting this magic. They will not survive their encounter with him.

The battle to come will be extremely dangerous. Our task is to get as far away as we can. He will not be able to use his true power with humans nearby.

Along the way, we will take any other humans we come across."

Oscar nodded. That made sense.

"Good. Then get on."

Oscar blinked a few times.

"What?"

"Think, Oscar. Your legs are too small and weak to move quickly. I will not have you fall behind."

Without waiting for an answer, she picked the boy up with one hand and sat him down on her shoulders, one leg on either side.

"Hold tight," she said.

The number of thoughts and feelings going through Oscar's head were too many to list here, or for him to process. Numbly, a part of him noted that Valkyrie's hair, which he had always thought was made of fire, actually wasn't. It didn't feel hot at all, though he could see the energy all around him.

Feeling equal parts embarrassed and far, far too lucky, put his hands on her shoulders, holding on tight as she had asked.

The demoness crouched down slightly, and stepped through the doorway, into the dark outside. And so, the two headed into the maze.