DMC4: The-Devil's Arm

The Forest of Ruin

Nero shoved against the wet, greasy wall with all of his strength. It mashed all around him, constantly throbbing with movement. Devil Bringer tried to purr, to give off light in the near pitch black surroundings. Red Queen was glued to his back, her fiery exceed useless anyways in such a close area; there wasn't even room to swing her properly. He fear he might lose her altogether if she slipped from her sling.

It reeked. It smelled like ass all around him, and there wasn't a goddamned thing he could do about it. He tried to make Devil Bringer glow, anything for a brief glimpse of light. The demonic limb seemed to agree; it pulsed ever so briefly, casting out a light blue glow.

He was buried in what felt like a coffin of flesh. Veined walls throbbed with life, mere inches away from his face. Devil Bringer's glow was over in an instant, exhausted without Yamato, his power. It had all been taken from him, and now he was sealed inside the behemoth.

With a frustrated cry of effort, he forced another burst from his right arm. The hideous tomb appeared again. What had to have been a sphincter or a valve closed above him.

Then it went dark again.

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Dante's right fist sank deep into the knitted face of a hapless scarecrow, blowing a hole clean through it. One vaulted into the air, spinning like a trapeze artist with legs made of scythes. The devil hunter spun and kicked, letting the saws on his feet cut lines across it, then booted it out of the clearing like a ball.

This was his third encounter with a pack of demons, and to be honest, Dante was getting a little sick of it. There was nothing left for him to do in the forest except leave, which wasn't going to be a problem, but he kept bumping into things. It wasn't like he had to fight everything, but there was no way in hell he'd be caught running away from something.

Besides, he was having fun.

With that in mind, he finished pounding the last few scarecrows into the ground, then continued on his way, following the river. Five minutes later, a group of blades decided to join him. Four of the demonic lizards bounded through the foliage, claws outstretched. He caught the first one with Gilgamesh's rocket propelled drill, uppercutting it into the air. As two more lunged in the wake of the first, Dante skitted back, then raised his leg and dropped it onto the helmet of one of the beasts. The other he simply punted with a right hook.

The last of the lizards attacked, but Dante simply ducked underneath it. He pulled Coyote-A from the small of his back and spun it around. He fired three separate times, each volley into a different blade. The one he'd ducked, the one sailing away, and the one falling from his uppercut each received a load.

Dante spun his shotgun on his finger, then holstered it, grinding one heavy boot into the lifeless lizard beneath him.

They just don't know when to quit.

After a bit, he left the river, then headed west. Through the canopy, Dante could just make out the cliffs that lead to the waterfall, which in turn held the bridge that would lead back to Fortuna Castle. That was his next stop: the gate that created all the snow and ice.

More blades attacked.

It was funny, when he thought about it after the beat down. If he'd just taken the time to thoroughly search the castle, he could have avoided this whole thing. It would have been just a matter of taking Yamato, then waiting for Trish to recover the Sparda. In and out, no problem. Now he had to put up with an old geezer with a god complex.

That's what I get for being lazy.

More blades attacked. Dante spun on his heels, delivering a rapid volley of kicks that sent the lizards sprawling. He caught one up against a tree, then assaulted it with his right leg, mashing it into the bark again and again, finishing it with a roundhouse that broke tree and demon in half.

After all of them were dead, Dante sensed a tremble in the dirt. The ground opened up, revealing a hideous, worm-like creature with sprawling jaws that sucked the corpses up as they disintegrated. He immediately recognized it as a fault, a pesky demon that liked to butt in in the middle of a fight. As luck would have it, it was late to the party.

The worm tried to pop up beneath him, but the stupid creature was easily outwitted when Dante skated back, then rocketed forward, propelled by Gilgamesh, driving his gauntlet deep into the demon's soft flesh. It sagged in the hole it made and went still.

After about another hour of demon smashing, Dante finally made it to the cliffs. A few chimera blades gave him some beef before he could start to climb up the face. Once they were taken care of, he made his way through the path, eventually coming to the spot where he bumped into Nero. Behind him, down the foliage covered path, lay the cave that he sought.

Through the murky tunnel he went, until he stepped out onto the bridge that spanned the plunge between the mountains and the castle. As soon as he stepped onto the balcony of the castle, the bridge rumbled. The device that controlled its length activated, and the long stone path retracted into the mountainside. There was a brief pause, then the dams above the cliff raised, freeing the river that they redirected, sending the deafening water into the abyss and covering the entrance to the forest.

Dante took a deep breath. It was a nice change from the muggy forest; crisp, cold, fresh air. At least it should have been. He picked up a new smell, one that stunk bad.

It smelled like a demon.