My Blood Legacy: Reincarnated as a Vampire

"She killed my father," Fenrir said, pointing at Valentina.

"But I believe my father deserved it, didn't he?" Fenrir asked directly, addressing the one who had slain a god.

"So you attacked my entire family, put a target on my back, because your filthy daddy got killed?" Dante said, his eyes burning with rage. After all, her father was Loki—the Loki.

A god who only knew how to cause chaos.

"..." Fenrir remained silent.

She didn't avert her gaze, but the tension in her eyes betrayed the internal battle she was fighting.

Dante, however, didn't back down.

His expression remained filled with unmatched anger and nervous energy—a flame burning within his soul, one that wouldn't easily be extinguished.

"Come on, Fenrir," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm and a cold tone of provocation. "You're telling me that all this chaos, this whole vendetta, is because Valentina did what anyone with a shred of decency should have done? Your father wasn't just a manipulator. He was a virus. Everything he touched turned to rot."

Alice, who had remained silent until now, tilted her head slightly, an enigmatic smile playing on her lips. She knew Dante was just getting started. And, in part, she appreciated the intensity he brought to moments like this. To her, it was almost like a dance: Dante being Dante, burning with his truth while others around him struggled to keep up.

Fenrir stood firm, but something in her gaze shifted—a flicker of emotion. Regret, perhaps, or restrained fury. She finally spoke, her voice low but heavy with weight.

"Loki may have been... imperfect," she began, as though carefully choosing her words, "but he was still my father. And you don't understand what that means to someone like me. To something like me. No matter how monstrous he was, he was the only connection I had to... something greater."

"Greater?" Dante repeated, his voice a mix of disbelief and scorn. "Are you seriously telling me that the bastard who threw his own people into misery for fun, who betrayed allies and family like they were disposable chess pieces, was something greater? Don't make me laugh."

Fenrir stepped forward, her posture shifting slightly. There was now a challenge in her stance, as though she was ready to confront Dante. But she didn't raise her voice or let anger consume her.

"You don't know what it's like to live in the shadow of someone like that, Dante," she said, her eyes locked on his. "Yes, I fought against you. Yes, I hated her. But it's because he was all I had. I didn't have a choice—or at least, I thought I didn't."

"Oh, really?" Dante shot back, his tone sharp as steel. "Then let me show you something your father caused."

Before Fenrir could react, Dante's hand shot out, grabbing her by the throat and lifting her effortlessly.

"Look into my eyes," he commanded, his voice heavy with power.

Fenrir obeyed, unable to resist, and then... the world was swallowed by her vision.

She still felt his hand on her throat as she was pulled into the depths of his memory.

There, she saw a shadowy copy of the woman who had killed her father.

The figure held a crimson spear engraved with black runes, her lifeless eyes sunken with dark circles, and blood from countless battles stained her hands. Her expression was that of a furious beast, primal and unrelenting.

She wore a shattered crown—a remnant of an old title. Queen? No, it was more like a symbol of annihilation. Her armor was drenched in blood, her pale skin marred by battle wounds, bruises, and cuts that were just beginning to heal.

Fenrir watched as the woman raised her spear once more for another battle.

The woman glanced at Fenrir with disdain, and Fenrir nearly crumbled under the pressure of that gaze. The scene shifted to the same woman unfurling two enormous wings engulfed in pure flames.

Her body became more monstrous, her hands slightly shifting form. Her power surged like a catalyst, transforming her into something new. The bat-like wings morphed into reptilian ones, the flames darkened, and her power erupted in a deadly crimson pillar.

"Your father caused this," Dante's voice echoed in her thoughts.

Sounds of armies clashing filled the air as Fenrir witnessed a brutal scene. Screams of fear, hatred, and despair echoed from all sides—people begging for their lives, praying for salvation, and facing their final moments before that monster.

Fenrir felt herself recoil as she watched Valentina—like a fiery, wrathful valkyrie—ravaging everything in her path. Humans, werewolves, elves, even her own kind.

Dante had only wanted to show the results of her father's actions. But to make her understand, he had to show her a fragment of his memory.

Fenrir turned her gaze back to Valentina, who now looked exhausted—a somber expression covering the long stretch of destruction where the beasts had fought.

She saw that fiery-haired woman utterly destroyed.

'All of this... why?...' Fenrir asked herself.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

"Because of your father," Dante's voice echoed in her mind, answering her unspoken question. "Valentina was hunted for years; she was never truly free in her life. She was enslaved by reality, forced to fight to survive. That's how she became what you see—choosing to destroy everything and die free—all because your father kept pushing for wars from the shadows."

"3,892,293 lives were taken by this spear," Dante said, his eyes fixed on the version of Valentina he vowed never to see again.

"Then, the mysterious god descended from the heavens, frustrated by the failure of his years-long plan."

Fenrir's gaze shifted, and she saw a powerful man with golden hair and eyes as blue as a stereotypical villain. He summoned Gungnir and aimed it at Valentina.

Atop the pile of corpses, Valentina looked at the god from head to toe. Fenrir glanced at her father and saw disdain, hatred, and a gaze as dark as the abyss.

"Too bad your father was a fool. He didn't see this coming," Dante said. "Gungnir betrayed him."

The damaged weapon in Valentina's hand exploded into the god's body, sending him flying. He looked forward, stunned, and for the first time, roared in an unfamiliar tongue.

"You can't betray me! I need this world!"

Fenrir finally understood what her father had been after. But then her eyes fell on Valentina, who now wielded a new spear in her hand.

The god turned pale, sweat dripping from his forehead. Then, Gungnir pierced through his skull.

"That's your father—a filthy worm who provoked a holy war without a single thought for anyone. A repugnant being," Dante said, releasing Fenrir and letting her fall to the ground.

Fenrir collapsed to her knees, gasping and trembling. The images Dante had shown her still spun in her mind, seared into her soul. It felt as though the weight of everything was crushing her shoulders. The destruction, the chaos, the pain. The memories Dante had shared weren't just images or words—they were vivid sensations she would never forget.

She looked up at him, her eyes filled with a mix of shock, pain, and indignation. "Do you think I knew this? That I knew what he was capable of doing? I had no idea what my father was—"

"And that's exactly the problem!" Dante interrupted, his voice cutting through the air like a blade. "You didn't know because you chose to close your eyes. Because it was easier to believe a comfortable lie than to face the ugly, hard truth. You followed him blindly, Fenrir. You defended him, protected him, even after he was gone. Do you think anyone weak could kill a god? He exploited everything to create a mass slaughter. Why? Because that son of a bitch wanted to rule the planet."

"I was a child!" Fenrir shouted, her voice breaking with emotion. "I grew up believing he was my world, my protector. How could I have known...?"

"And when you grew up?" Dante countered, crossing his arms as he stared her down with unrelenting intensity. "You didn't even listen to our side before turning an entire kingdom against us."

Fenrir lowered her head, her hands clutching the ground tightly. The truth in Dante's words was like poison, burning inside her. He was right, and it ate away at her.

"You're right..." she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I was weak. A coward. I didn't want to believe my father was the monster everyone said he was. And now... now I see what it's cost."

Dante watched her for a moment, his expression softening slightly. He stepped back, giving her space to breathe and process.

"This isn't about what you've done," he said, his voice less harsh now. "It's about who you'll be moving forward. Because honestly, this world's already broken. You've seen what your father caused, what he did to Valentina, to me, to the world. The question is: what will you do now, knowing you've already helped Mary Rose gain more power?"

Fenrir lifted her head, her green eyes glowing with a newfound determination. She was still trembling, but something in her posture had shifted—something firmer, stronger.

"I can't change the past," she said, her voice gaining strength. "But I can make amends in the present. I want to set things right, Dante. I want to fight—not as Loki's daughter, but as someone choosing the right path."

"Welcome to the group," Dante said.

The women exchanged glances. 'The Dante Effect', Valentina thought, and Morgana nodded in agreement. 'Yes, it's definitely the Dante Effect at work again.'