My Blood Legacy: Reincarnated as a Vampire-Chapter 469: Demonic Retribution

The silence stretched on for long seconds.

Dante’s golden gaze pierced Morrigan’s soul, stripping her of all her layers, exposing every fear, every secret buried in her existence. The overwhelming weight of his presence made each of her breaths feel like a titanic effort, and every beat of her heart sounded like the pounding of drums announcing her inevitable defeat.

Then, he raised his hand.

The Supreme World of Lust twisted at his command. Colors fragmented, the space spiraled into impossible shapes, and in the blink of an eye, the ground disappeared beneath her feet.

Morrigan fell.

The fall lasted an instant—or an eternity. Time lost its meaning.

When her eyes opened, she was on her knees in a chamber as cold as death. Heavy chains bound her wrists and ankles, their links roaring at the slightest movement. The distant sound of dripping echoed through the damp stone walls, each drop marking her helplessness like the sinister ticking of a clock.

But none of that mattered.

What truly made her hold her breath was the figure before her.

A woman.

Her long silver hair was soaked in blood, her body marked by deep wounds, but her eyes… her eyes still burned with unyielding pride. Morrigan recognized that face instantly.

Lilith.

Or rather, the version of her before her rebirth.

Before she could react, a blade pierced her chest.

The pain was overwhelming, raw, and unrelenting. Morrigan screamed as the searing metal tore through her flesh, releasing a hot gush of blood onto the cold floor. Her body arched, contorting under the brutality of the strike, but her eyes never left the woman before her.

Lilith smiled. Not with cruelty, but with a quiet satisfaction. A forewarning of something much worse.

And then, everything faded.

Morrigan awoke.

Another chamber. Another nightmare.

This time, it was Sara.

This time, she was drowned.

Her arms flailed against the surface of the water, but the invisible force relentlessly pulled her to the bottom. Air escaped her, her chest burned with desperation, and her eyes burned under the cruel pressure of the liquid darkness. Each second dragged in growing agony until her body finally gave way. Her lungs filled with water, her mind imploded in absolute despair. Death surrounded her once again.

But there was no rest.

Then, she was burned alive.

Valentina stared at her like a true demon incarnate, her eyes glowing with inhuman fervor. The flames roared around her, licking her skin, melting her flesh. Her nerves screamed, her soul begged for the end.

But Dante would not allow it.

Morrigan died. Morrigan returned.

And with every return, a new horror awaited her.

Stabbed. Disemboweled. Crushed. Shattered.

Each of Dante’s wives took her revenge.

The tenth death came with a scream Morrigan didn’t even know she was capable of releasing. The pain, the fear, the exhaustion—all fused into a single, absolute torment. Her nails dug into her own skin, as if she could tear her existence away from this infernal cycle.

But Dante was not finished.

"Do you feel this, Morrigan?" His voice reverberated through the void that surrounded her shattered mind.

"This is the weight of every life you took. Did you think you could escape the price?" She gasped. Her body trembled, her strength slipping away like sand between her fingers. She tried to speak, but no words came.

He approached.

His steps were slow. Deliberate. Each movement soaked in cruel patience. His golden eyes were merciless.

"Fourteen deaths. Fourteen punishments. But it’s still not enough. You need to understand." The fifteenth time came without warning.

This time, it was different.

Morrigan stood in the middle of a flower-filled field, bathed in the golden sunlight. The wind blew softly, carrying the scent of the flowers. Everything seemed… calm. Peaceful.

Until she saw.

The bodies.

Dante’s wives were scattered around her like broken dolls, their lifeless eyes turned to the blue sky. Horror surged up her throat, suffocating and acidic.

And then... her hand moved.

A cold blade rested in her fingers.

She blinked.

And understood.

It was her who killed them.

Again. And again.

Each strike.

Each cut.

Morrigan found herself repeating the murders she had committed. But this time, there was no pleasure. No triumph. Only an endless cycle of carnage from which she could not escape.

"STOP!!!" She screamed, her voice torn by horror.

She tried to drop the blade, but her fingers would not obey. She tried to close her eyes, but her eyelids remained open, forcing her to face each scene. Every expression of despair. Every last breath.

She felt it.

She felt the fear in the eyes of those women. She felt the cold of the blade slicing through flesh, the warmth of blood on her hands. She felt the weight of each life she had taken, now etched into her soul like eternal scars.

And then, her body gave in.

She fell to her knees, a heart-wrenching sob escaping her throat. Hot tears slid down her face, mixing with the blood staining her hands.

It was then that Dante appeared before her one last time.

He looked down at her, his face expressionless, his golden eyes like unrelenting suns.

"Now you understand." The world shattered around her.

And for the first time, Morrigan wished she had never existed.

Morrigan’s cries echoed in the infinite emptiness that unfolded around them. Her body trembled uncontrollably, her mind shattered by the weight of the torment Dante had forced her to bear. She had felt each death as if she were the victim herself, reliving the horrors she had inflicted upon his wives, now as the prey in an endless cycle of suffering.

But Dante was not finished.

The aura around him shimmered, golden and cruel, like a scorching sun at the height of the desert. His gaze descended upon the defeated woman like the hammer of justice, impassive, unshakable. The demeanor of a judge who saw no redemption, only the inexorable fulfillment of a sentence.

"Do you think it’s over?" His voice was thunder in the darkness. "The pain you’ve felt so far was just a glimpse of the price you must pay. You played with the lives of my women, took everything from them. I’ll make you understand what it means to be reduced to nothing."

Morrigan tried to respond, but her voice failed her. Horror was written on every line of her face. Her eyes, once filled with lust and arrogance, were now wide, wet, drowning in pure despair.

Dante raised his hand again. The space twisted, and a new scene unfolded before them.

This time, Morrigan was in a vast hall of mirrors. Countless reflections of herself stared at her from every direction, but something was wrong. The mirrors did not reflect just her image… they reflected each of her deaths.

What she saw was not just her own form, but an endless succession of her executions. Morrigan saw herself burned, drowned, mutilated, shattered. Each mirror showed a version of her in the final moments of life, eyes pleading for a relief that never came.

She screamed.

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She spun around, trying to flee, but the mirrors stretched infinitely. Each step she took only dragged her deeper into that labyrinth of nightmares. The voices of Dante’s wives whispered, their whispers like cold blades slicing through her mind.

"You took everything from us..." "You laughed as you killed us..." "Now feel what you caused..."

The image of Lilith appeared in one of the mirrors, her eyes burning with the fury that death could not extinguish. The glass shattered, and Lilith emerged from the surface like a vengeful specter. In her hand, she held the same blade with which she had been killed.

Without hesitation, she advanced.

Morrigan’s scream echoed as the blade pierced her chest once more. The pain tore through her from the inside out, raw and absolute, but she did not die.

The cycle restarted.

The mirrors showed her dying in every conceivable way, and each reflection was a reality she was forced to live. Morrigan died a hundred times, a thousand times, a million times. The concept of time ceased to exist. All that remained was suffering.

Until finally, something inside her broke.

She fell to her knees, her eyes empty, her mouth half-open in a silent scream. There was no more strength to resist. No more pride. No more Morrigan.

Dante approached her one last time, his massive shadow looming over her shattered body. He bent down, gripping her face with brutality, forcing her to look at him.

"Do you understand now?"

She did not answer. Her eyes teared up, her mind lost. All that remained was an empty shell, a shattered soul.

Dante released her face, letting her fall to the ground like something worthless. He sighed, finally satisfied.

"There is nothing left in you. No lust, no desire. You are no longer a threat, Morrigan. Just a broken remnant of what you once were."

He stood up, spinning on his heels, leaving her behind. The world around her began to crumble, and the darkness consumed what remained of Morrigan.

And then, for the first time in her existence, she knew what true despair felt like.

"Goodbye," Dante said as an army of Demons began to surround her. "Eat," he commanded.