Dante takes off like a shot. Metal clashes with lightning again as Bayonetta halts his attack. The witch throws a leg high only to have it take on more gashes from Gilgamesh. Dante returns the favor, swinging a long leg high for Bayonetta’s head. Bayonetta saves her face from being scarred. She struggles to hold the Son of Sparda’s leg at bay as he presses his attack. The muscles in her delicate arm bunch together as she is locked in a power struggle. Dante applies more pressure. The Umbra Witch soon loses out. With a hard shove, she is spun around like a top.
An opportunity presents itself and Dante capitalizes. He quickly closes in on Bayonetta’s exposed back. He looked clear to land a clean shot when something suddenly became amiss. Somehow, Bayonetta ended up at his back with her right arm extended and Durga’s claws spread wide. Dante has no time to move or counter and takes the full surge of the intense electricity that the weapon discharges. Bayonetta quickly launches a follow-up strike but she failed to remember Dante’s speedy recovery. He grabs the woman by her leg, whips her around and hurls her into a semi-demolished building. The floors and roof of the building crumble like a house of cards, burying Bayonetta. The side and rear walls remain standing.
Dante kneels for a second; the effects of the lightning discharge from Durga still have a slight hold of him. “I almost forgot what that felt like,” he says giving his head a couple shakes. For a moment, his mind flickers back to when he wielded a lightning-based weapon like Durga. He remembers approaching a statue of a woman in agony with a sword pierced through her chest. Then suddenly, the sword leapt from the woman’s chest and pierced his. He could feel the power of the blade coursing through him. A few moments later, Dante took the sword of Alastor in hand, which endowed him with lightning capabilities and the power of flight. Bringing his mind back to the present, Dante is alerted to a noise coming from the pile of rubble that was once the remains of a boarding house. He gets to his feet and takes a stance, muscles tense with anticipation.
Suddenly, the fist of Madama Butterfly bursts from within the ruined building. Dante takes quick notice of the Madama’s electric blue fist. He challenges Madama Butterfly and meets her fist with his. The power of the clash radiates like a cyclone, whipping up the tails of Dante’s coat. Tattered newspapers, loose trash and other debris of the like are tossed like pedals in the wind. Dante grinds his feet into the broken asphalt as he struggled to keep his purchase. However, he loses out from a hard shove. A second Wicked Weave attack immediately follows suit. This time it is Madama Butterfly’s fiery foot that stomps Dante, sending him flying and slamming into a weather beaten car. The force of his body pushes the car into several other vehicles left sprawled across the street haphazardly until they are a pile of crunched metal, broken glass and shredded rubber. Dante pulls himself to his feet with a slight grunt. It has been a long time since he taken a hit like the one he just received, but like many times before he just shakes it off as if he had just been slapped on the wrist.
However, Dante is not the only one with superhuman durability. Thanks to Madama Butterfly, Bayonetta has unburied herself from her tomb of brick and wood and mortar. Not many enemies have been able to leave a blemish upon the Umbra Witch. Dante is the latest on a very short list of those who have. Tossing the inscribed ribbons that hang from her high hairdo over her right shoulder followed by a quick head toss, Bayonetta catwalks forward with one hand cocked on her swaying hips.
Dante’s eyes land on his sexy opponent. His suspicions ring true as he eyes the Durga claws attached to Bayonetta’s feet. The weapon did have a second ability—the power of fire. Another long-lost weapon comes to his mind. The flaming gauntlets known as Ifrit housed the spirit of a fire demon. Dante was granted increased strength as well as fire capabilities when he wielded them. The same must be true for Bayonetta’s weapon which would explain why the fiery kick of Madama Butterfly stung a bit more than it should. He tugs on the lapels of his coat to straighten it and flicks both arms to straighten the sleeves. Cracking his trademark charismatic grin, he strolls out to meet the feisty witch.
They approach each other like the climatic showdown scene in Old West movies. The street is empty. The townsfolk have retreated to their homes for safety, closing shutters and drawing curtains to shield themselves from looking at whatever carnage will occur. Only the two involved in the showdown remained on the street, to face each other with no interruptions. This particular town, however, is completely devoid of people. The homes and buildings here no longer have windows or shutters. Broken glass, sheet metal and plywood now hang in their place. Dante and Bayonetta are the first signs of life to be in the town for more than a decade aside from the rats, roaches and other vermin that have taken up residence.
The Umbra Witch and the demon half-breed increase their pace keeping each other locked in an intense gaze. They know they cannot relent. They know they cannot hold back. They have seen and displayed their abilities. Yet, neither of them has shown their full potential. Their pace quickens to a light trot. The exchanges thus far have been a prelude—preparation for this moment. Bayonetta was fascinated when Enzo told her about Dante. Exterminating angels had become a bore to her. Certainly it keep her busy, however she wanted something or someone who could truly challenge her. She soon found that someone with silver hair, a red trench coat and carried a massive sword that is nearly as long as he is tall. In turn, boredom had set in for Dante after defeating the King of the Underworld and closing the Hell Gates. Sure, he got jobs to keep himself in business but they had no flare. No excitement. No demons. That is until he took the overseas job in Europe. There, he found the spark that was missing. The spark wore a black form fitting outfit, had guns in her hands and attached to her feet and red ribbons wrapped around a high hairdo.
Their trot breaks into a ground devouring stride that carries them like the wind. This is it. They know they must fight to the best of their abilities. Giving each other any ground cannot be allowed. Holding back would be disrespectful and intolerable. Of all this, they are certain of one thing.
There can only be one victor.
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