NOVEL NEXT Chapter 11: Quips Amid Carnage
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The descent into the corrupted depths of Red Grave City was like stepping into a nightmare that had come to life. The trio—Dante, Nero, and Vergil—followed silently behind the relentless Doom Slayer as he led the charge through a labyrinth of twisted tunnels. Here, the boundaries between cold metal and living flesh blurred: the walls of the passageway were an unholy fusion of rusted steel and pulsating organic tissue, with thick veins of demonic energy snaking across surfaces that seemed to breathe in time with some malignant heart. The air was heavy with the stench of brimstone and blood—a constant reminder that they were far from the world they once knew.
As they advanced cautiously down the narrow corridor, every step brought a new horror into view. Shadows writhed along the walls, and the flicker of unstable energy cast eerie silhouettes that danced like specters in the dim light. The Doom Slayer led without a word, his presence a silent threat that compelled the very air to tremble in his wake.
Nero, ever the sensitive connoisseur of all things grotesque, couldn't hold his tongue. He ran a gloved hand over a particularly repulsive section of the tunnel, his eyes narrowing in disgust as he surveyed the slime-encrusted, pulsating walls. "Okay, I've seen some nasty hellscapes before, but this? This is next-level gross," he remarked, his voice echoing slightly off the churning walls.
Dante smirked, his tone light despite the carnage surrounding them. "Yeah, gotta say, not a fan of interior design that looks like Satan sneezed all over it," he quipped, twirling one of his twin pistols as if it were a prop in one of his less-than-serious moments. Even in a realm of unrelenting horror, his irreverence shone through.
The Doom Slayer, however, said nothing. He moved with unwavering purpose, his eyes scanning for any threat in the perpetual twilight of the abyss. His silence was a stark counterpoint to the banter echoing behind him—a reminder that he was a being of action, not words.
Still, Dante couldn't resist prodding at his inscrutable companion. "Man, you are really committed to the whole 'silent and deadly' thing, huh? No witty one-liners? No badass catchphrases?" he teased, earning a faint, almost imperceptible shift from the Slayer as if acknowledging the question without breaking his focus.
No sooner had Dante spoken than a group of snarling, twisted hybrid demons burst from a side corridor. Their forms were monstrous fusions of Doom's Hellspawn and DMC's dark entities—limbs too many, eyes that glowed with an unholy fervor, and bodies contorting with a nightmarish fluidity. The creatures lunged forward, their claws reaching hungrily for flesh.
Before Dante or Nero could react, the Doom Slayer was on them. With the efficiency of a machine built for nothing but destruction, he drew his Super Shotgun in one swift motion. A single blast erupted, and the head of a lunging demon flew off in a burst of gore and unearthly ichor, its body collapsing lifelessly onto the stained floor. Dante's grin widened as he shook his head in admiration. "Right. Guess that's your way of saying 'shut up and kill,'" he quipped, his voice a mix of amusement and respect.
The barrage of demons did not relent. More emerged from the darkness, their collective shrieks echoing off the corrupted walls. Dante, never one to back down from a challenge—or a chance for humor—flipped Rebellion onto his shoulder with practiced ease. "Alright, new rule—whoever racks up the most kills gets free pizza after this," he declared, his eyes gleaming with mischief despite the carnage unfolding around him.
Nero scoffed, unable to hide his incredulity. "Dude, we're literally in Hell 2.0 and you're thinking about pizza?" he retorted, though a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"Look, priorities, kid. Also—" Dante began, but before he could continue his boast, he vanished in a flash of red energy. Moments later, he reappeared behind a snarling demon and, with a flourish that was both elegant and deadly, sliced it in half with his sword. "—I plan to win this," he added triumphantly, as if the contest were merely a game.
High above, Vergil watched the chaotic melee with his customary cool detachment. With a measured, almost casual motion, he unsheathed his Yamato and swept it in a graceful arc, cutting down three demons in a blink. "Petty competition. But if it keeps you focused…" he murmured, his voice as dry as it was calculating.
All the while, the Doom Slayer pressed forward. He paid no mind to the banter—his sole concentration was on the next threat. A group of lesser demons, emboldened by their numbers, attempted to flank him from the side. But the moment they breached his peripheral vision, the Slayer's instincts kicked in. With lightning-fast reflexes, he whirled, his Doomblade arcing through the air with ruthless precision. Two demons fell to his blade, their decapitated heads tumbling to the ground, while a third barely had time to register its impending doom before the Slayer's Gauss Cannon delivered a single, obliterating shot.
Dante turned his head, expecting to snark at the silent juggernaut. Instead, he found the Doom Slayer mid-air, firing his Ballista with unerring accuracy while simultaneously smashing a demon's skull with his boot. "...Okay, even I gotta admit, that's pretty damn stylish," Dante remarked, a tone of genuine admiration coloring his usual cocky drawl.
The tunnel around them was alive with the sounds of battle. Demonic roars, the staccato blasts of supercharged weaponry, and the relentless clatter of bodies hitting the corrupted floor created a brutal symphony. When the chaos finally subsided for a heartbeat, the ground was littered with the remnants of the slain—a gruesome mosaic of broken limbs, shattered skulls, and pools of dark blood. Dante smirked as he spun Ebony & Ivory in his hands before holstering them with practiced flair. "Alright, I hate to say it, but I might actually have some competition here," he quipped, his voice filled with both mirth and reluctant respect.
The Doom Slayer, still an enigma wrapped in silence, reloaded his Super Shotgun with one hand, the sound of the mechanism as final as any death knell. His expression, hidden behind his visor, was unreadable—a mask of concentration and lethal purpose. Without a word, he stepped forward and gestured, silently commanding his companions to keep moving. There was no time for idle chatter; the deeper they ventured, the more the corruption intensified.
Ahead, the narrow tunnel pulsed with an eerie, otherworldly glow—a sign that whatever lay at the core of this demonic infestation was drawing near. The air vibrated with the resonance of dark energy, and the walls seemed to whisper secrets of ancient, forbidden rituals. It was clear that the corruption was not merely an external force—it was infecting the very fabric of the city, twisting reality from within.
As the group advanced, the dynamic between brutal combat and snappy banter continued unabated. Every step was a testament to the chaotic duality of their world—a realm where humor could flourish even amidst the carnage, and where camaraderie was forged in the fires of relentless battle. Dante's quips were a constant, lightening the oppressive atmosphere even if only for a moment, while Nero's occasional exclamations of disbelief provided a counterpoint to the silent, unyielding ferocity of the Slayer.
But as they pushed deeper into the abyss, the stakes grew ever higher. The corrupted tunnel was not merely a passage—it was the threshold to the heart of the infestation. Beneath the red, pulsating glow, the group could sense an immense, malevolent presence gathering strength. It was a reminder that their current skirmishes, as exhilarating and brutal as they were, were only a prelude to the greater evils that lurked below.
For the Doom Slayer, every moment in the tunnel was a continuation of his singular mission: to eradicate the demonic scourge without pause or distraction. His mind was an endless battleground of tactical calculations and instinctual responses, where every enemy was assessed and disposed of with methodical precision. There was no room for sentiment or delay—only the raw drive to obliterate any trace of corruption that threatened this world.
As they neared a widening section of the tunnel, where the very air seemed to hum with an unholy resonance, Dante, Nero, and Vergil exchanged one last glance. In that brief moment, they all recognized the unspoken truth: the combat efficiency of the Doom Slayer was pushing even the most battle-hardened among them to their limits. His silent fury, his relentless assault on every demon that dared to approach—it was something that demanded both respect and a hint of fear.
And so, with the sounds of clashing metal and demonic roars echoing around them, the group pressed on into the pulsating heart of darkness. Dante's humor continued to cut through the tension, even as he and Nero traded quips about pizza and high scores on a demonic leaderboard. Vergil's calm observations provided a stark counterbalance to the chaos, as he silently calculated the potential of harnessing such raw power for his own ends.
Yet, for the Doom Slayer, there was no time for reflection or banter. His eyes—hidden behind the impenetrable visor—focused solely on the objective ahead. The corruption that plagued Red Grave City was not just a nuisance; it was an existential threat that needed to be excised at its source. With every step he took, the ground trembled beneath him, a relentless reminder of the dark heart beating deep within the earth.
As the group advanced, the tunnel ahead pulsed brighter, and the whispers in the walls grew louder. There was an undeniable intensity in the air—a promise of even greater evils waiting just beyond the next bend. The demonic forces behind them had been pushed back for now, but the true enemy was still to come.
With a final, silent nod from the Slayer—a wordless command to press on—the trio followed into the unknown. In that moment, amidst quips, carnage, and the unyielding march of death, Dante, Nero, and Vergil understood that the battle was far from over. The corruption ran deep, and what lay ahead would test them in ways they had never imagined.
Thus, beneath the red skies and amid the echoing quips of carnage, the journey into the heart of darkness continued. The Doom Slayer fought with an efficiency that was both awe-inspiring and terrifying, while his companions struggled to balance humor with the gravity of the moment. And as the corrupted passage beckoned them deeper, one truth remained certain: the true enemy was waiting in the depths, and soon, the final confrontation would begin.
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If you like the story ! please support it
And the best way to do this is through patréon
You get access to +5 chapters ! form vergil !!
Or even 12+ chapters if you want ! from Dante!!
So please check out my patréon
https://www.patréon.com/c/zakx205
Don't forget to change "é" to "e"