Dante's laughter still echoed as the battle picked up again, frenetic.
The devil spun on himself and tore something off the ground. An arm, then a leg, then a torso. He hurled them one after another, like projectiles.
"WHAT?!"
Max reacted instantly. His hammer shot forward, smashing into the incoming pieces—deflecting and crushing them. Dead flesh exploded mid-air.
"Don't just stand there!"
Neros was already moving. His blade traced clean lines.
He dodged a head spinning past his neck.
Then Dante spat something from his mouth. Thick. Green.
Neros leaned his body aside. The substance grazed his armor and hit the ground.
Sizzling. Corroding.
"...tch."
Dante smiled.
"What's wrong?"
He licked his lips.
"Didn't you say you could do this all day?"
Max clenched his teeth. His hammer returned to his hand, and he felt the strain. He glanced at its surface—cracked in several places. The system showed its durability had dropped significantly.
"...shit, I'm gonna lose my weapon."
