My Blood Legacy: Reincarnated as a Vampire

Chapter 467 Primordial Chaos

"ENOUGH!!"

Dante's voice was not just a roar—it was an absolute decree, an order etched into the very fabric of the universe. The sound reverberated through the void of space, tearing through dimensions, resonating like the chant of a newborn god. The darkness that sought to devour him hesitated, flickering like a candle before a hurricane.

And then, the explosion came.

A cataclysm of primordial fire erupted from within Dante, consuming everything around him. The very fabric of existence bent, distorting like shattered glass before his rebirth. His body, which had seemed on the verge of disintegration, now burned with a force so intense that the stars around him lost their brilliance in comparison to his radiance.

Morrigan, the Goddess of the End, saw. For the first time, she saw something that made her hesitate. Something beyond her understanding.

"I'm sick of this shit."

Dante's voice was no longer just his—it was a fusion of ancient echoes, of draconic roars, of divine thunder that made the cosmos tremble. His body pulsed with an energy so vast that space itself seemed to flee from his presence.

Small spasms rippled through his form, but it was not weakness. It was the universe struggling to comprehend something beyond all logic. Dante was not merely resisting the End. He was transcending it.

And then, he began to chant.

Every word that left his lips was not merely spoken—it was decreed, as if inscribing a new reality into existence. His body burned, his aura expanded.

"Awaken, beast of night and flame, Rise anew, forsake thy name."

The embers of his soul ignited, transforming into colossal flames. His eyes shone like twin suns. His draconic wings began to shatter—not in destruction, but in evolution. Each fallen fragment exploded into light, expanding, reforming into something too vast to be contained by any mortal concept.

"Wings of shadow, claws of doom, Echo forth, thy wrath consume!"

His arms trembled, his claws extended. His muscles expanded, not merely as flesh, but as the incarnation of raw, unrestrained power. The infinity around him began to shrink, as if space-time itself was being drawn into him. His gaze lost any trace of humanity—what remained now was something primordial, ancient, beyond reason.

"Blood of demons, heart of fire, Burn the sky, the world expire."

The universe quaked. Distant planets shattered without even being near him. Stars erupted into spontaneous supernovas, unable to withstand the pressure of Dante's presence. Entire galaxies bent, their gravitational fields twisting in involuntary reverence to the one who was reborn.

"Fangs that shatter, eyes that gleam, Drown the weak in crimson streams!"

His teeth grew into fangs designed to tear gods asunder. His eyes burned like cosmic forges, reflecting a golden glow that seemed to contain all the secrets of the universe.

Morrigan took a step back. She was not supposed to step back. She was the End. But in that moment, she felt something she was never meant to feel. Something she had long forgotten.

Terror.

"Darkened soul, bound in chains, Break thy seal, unleash thy reign!"

The invisible chains that sealed Dante's true power shattered.

And then, he awakened.

The void around him was consumed. Even entropy hesitated. The End itself was defied.

Dante roared, and his roar was not merely sound—it was creation, it was destruction, it was rebirth. It was the proclamation of the birth of something beyond gods, beyond dragons, beyond existence itself.

And when the light faded, he was there.

No longer just a warrior.

No longer merely a demon.

Not just a dragon.

But something new. Something absolute.

He opened his eyes.

And the universe trembled.

Time hesitated, space contracted. Fate itself, an immutable force, faltered. The vastness of the cosmos bowed in submission to the presence of one who should not exist but, against all laws of creation, was reborn.

"The End? Morrigan... You never understood."

Dante's voice reverberated like divine thunder, transcending matter and energy. His words were not merely heard—they were felt, etched into the very fabric of reality. They resonated within Morrigan's soul like the tolling of a funeral bell, each syllable carrying a cosmic weight that crushed her perception.

He raised a hand.

And at his command, stars ignited, exploding into new constellations. Galaxies spun, molded by his will. The chaos that had once tried to consume him now bowed, dancing around him like a loyal servant. His power was no longer just a force—it was a concept. An absolute. Something that existed beyond time, beyond fate, beyond the very End itself.

Morrigan held her breath.

For the first time, she felt.

Not pride.

Not serenity.

Not absolute power.

But fear.

Pure. Instinctive. Primordial.

"A true dragon..." she murmured, her voice trembling, weak, unrecognizable even to herself. Her body did not respond. Her muscles, once carrying the grace of a supreme entity, were rigid, frozen in terror.

Her eyes rose, but her mind rejected what they saw.

It was impossible.

Morrigan tried to rise. She couldn't.

Her breath faltered.

Her heart, which had never known fear, pounded in panic.

And then, Dante raised a claw—vast as galaxies, blazing like the dawn of time.

The End had come.

But it was not she who brought it.

It was him.

And for the first time... Morrigan felt what it was to be on the other side.

She felt what it was to be hunted.

For the first time, Morrigan was the prey.

The absolute silence was broken by Dante's voice—not a voice, but a decree, an inescapable sentence.

"Let's..." he whispered, and the universe bent to his will. "Let's see what remains of your soul before you became... this abomination."

The flames around him shifted. They were no longer just destruction. Now, they were something deeper, something crueler. They were the Seven Deadly Sins, personified.

Lust whispered memories she had buried.

Gluttony devoured her resistance, leaving her weak.

Greed stole her power, reducing her to what she was in the beginning.

Envy forced her to see what she had desired but never possessed.

Sloth denied her the strength to resist.

Wrath burned her, reminding her of every unsatisfied fury.

Pride...? Ah... Pride was her downfall.

Morrigan felt the world spin. Her vision darkened, her body dissolved into the vastness of nothingness...

And then... she fell.

The impact was like being torn from time itself.

When she opened her eyes, she was no longer before Dante.

There were no stars, no chaos, no power.

There was only... a village forgotten by time.

The scent of burned wood.

The cold wind slicing against her skin.

The sound of hurried footsteps on packed earth.

She knew this place.

Her heart—weak, human—raced.

She was home.

Morrigan slowly turned her head, dreading what she would see.

And there, at the gates of a humble cabin, stood herself. A child. Small, frightened... innocent.

The shock was an invisible fist slamming into her chest.

She tried to move, to speak, but she was nothing more than an observer within her own past.

She listened.

"Don't look at them, Mary. Don't let them tell." Find adventures on My Virtual Library Empire

The voice... of her mother.

Morrigan felt her body shudder. She hadn't remembered that voice for ages.

And then the screams began.

Men bursting in, blades smeared with blood, flames consuming her house...

Morrigan knew what was coming next.

She tried to look away.

But Dante wouldn't allow her to run away from her own past.

She would see it. She would feel it.

She would live it all over again.