My Blood Legacy: Reincarnated as a Vampire-Chapter 523: EXTRA - Knight of Hunger

Dante rode through the demon world, mounted on his imposing black horse. The beast, as large as a mythical creature, with twisted horns and a dark coat that seemed to absorb the very light around it, was the symbol of the Horseman of the Apocalypse: Famine. An entity of immeasurable power, whose hunger was never satisfied, never quenched.

The hot, ash-laden wind cut through the desert of earth and stones. Dante's horse, a force of nature, trotted with a sound that seemed to echo from the depths of Hell itself, its hooves striking the ground like the beat of a war drum. But the horse did not merely traverse the barren land—it consumed it, crushing anything in its path as if it desired to swallow everything around it. The sound of stones being crushed beneath its hooves echoed like the sound of something being devoured, unrelenting.

Dante gazed at the desolate horizon, where flames danced in the wind. His calculating eyes reflected an insatiability as deep as Hell itself. He was not only the monarch of flames and suffering; he was the strategist who designed both destruction and creation. He knew that Hell was aging, saturated with its own excesses. The seven deadly sins were becoming obsolete. He needed something new, something more visceral, something that represented the true essence of the Apocalypse.

"I need something... more," Dante thought, his mind full of plans as the horse continued to traverse the infertile land. The wind cut across his face, but he was absorbed, immersed in his own thoughts. He knew something greater was needed—something that was not just destruction, but an insatiable force—something that never ceased, never stopped, like hunger.

He looked at the horse ahead of him, a being as immense and terrifying as he himself was. The horse was not just a means of transport; it represented hunger itself, a primordial force that never faded, never ceased. Just like the hunger that plagues those who seek power, control, and glory. The inability to satisfy this desire was the essence of what Dante sought.

The journey continued, and he thought with even more intensity until a figure in the distance caught his attention.

It was a child.

A demon child, with pale skin, large, fiery eyes, and a wild glow that reflected a malevolent energy not belonging to her age. She wandered through a devastated field, as if she were part of the scorched earth itself, but her presence was far from ordinary. She did not seem to fear the destruction around her; instead, she seemed thirsty for it, restless, hungry.

Dante stopped the horse, which leaned forward, as if it knew the moment had arrived. He dismounted effortlessly, the sound of metal echoing softly in his black robes, and walked toward the child with calculated steps. The child watched him, wary, but with intriguing curiosity. There was something in her eyes that Dante recognized immediately—a boundless hunger.

"You..." Dante thought, "you feel it. You know what hunger is."

The child watched him, not with fear, but with a silent understanding. She raised her hand in a nearly defiant gesture, as if inviting Dante closer.

Without hesitation, Dante walked toward her. With a subtle smile, yet full of intention, he crouched down to her level.

"I've seen you. You're alone. But you shouldn't be. What do you seek, child?" Dante's voice was deep and full of authority, each word carrying an unbearable weight.

The child looked directly at him, her eyes glowing with an otherworldly intensity. Her voice, still childish, but with a strength that transcended her age, responded:

"I seek... more. I seek everything. I... need it." The struggle to find the right words was visible, but her eyes, hungry and insatiable, said it all. "I need more."

Dante watched the child carefully. She was a young soul, with immense potential, but also with an insatiable hunger that, deep down, could never be satisfied. She was only beginning to grasp the magnitude of her desire.

"This is perfect," Dante thought. "You understand. You already grasp what I seek."

He remained silent for a moment, allowing the child's words to settle in his mind. Then, with a gentle gesture, he touched her forehead. The child did not move, showing no fear. She knew, deep down, that something was about to change forever.

"You are strong. But strength alone is not what you need." Dante's voice was deep and penetrating, as though his words were a poison to her soul. "You need to understand what desire is. True desire. The desire to never stop, to never cease searching. The desire to consume everything within your reach."

Dante leaned in closer, his eyes locked onto hers, as the child began to understand the weight of his words.

"I can give you that. I can give you what you want. I can give you power, but know this—there will be a responsibility that few can bear. Do you want it?"

The child, absorbing the power of his words, felt a surge of energy course through her body. Without hesitation, she responded firmly, her voice resonating with the certainty of someone who had already accepted their fate:

"Yes." The word came with an uncommon force for someone so young. "Yes. I want it."

Dante smiled, a dark, satisfied grin. He knew he had found what he was looking for. Hunger, now, would be something she would live with forever.

"You have what it takes. I grant you now the power to become something greater, something... hungry. You will be the new Horseman of Famine." His voice was deep, heavy with power. "But understand, this hunger will be infinite. You will never be satisfied. Like the horse by your side, you will be the one who can never quench your thirst. And, just like hunger itself, you will be what others fear and what they desire most: the appetite."

The power began to flow into the child, her veins glowing with a fiery light as her body transformed. The markings of Famine began to etch into her skin, like brands of an inescapable fate. When the process was complete, the child was unrecognizable. She was now a being with a hungry gleam in her eyes, a soul completely consumed by desire.

This chapter is updat𝙚d by freeweɓnovel.cøm.

Years had passed since the child's transformation into the Horseman of Famine, and now, before Dante, stood a completely different figure. The Horseman of Famine, once nothing more than an insatiable child, had now become an entity as imposing as Dante himself. His body had transformed, his spirit strengthened, and his hunger, still present, had now become a primordial force with no known limits.

The desert of Hell, a vast ocean of rocks and ashes, seemed a reflection of the Horseman himself. His hands, now robust and marked by the scars of countless battles, gripped the Lance of Famine with lethal precision. His eyes, once fiery and wild, now carried the unshakable calm of a storm poised to strike. Hunger no longer manifested as a chaotic and uncontrolled desire, but as a force contained, waiting for the right moment to consume everything within reach.

In the distance, Dante watched his Horseman with a look of approval, but also one of unsettling anticipation. He knew that Famine was more than just a servant, more than a simple tool of destruction. Famine had become an equal, an ascending force that rivaled even Dante's own power. Hell, now, was ruled by hunger and destruction—but also by renewal, the endless cycle of creation and destruction that, to Dante, was the true meaning of the Apocalypse.

"Horseman of Famine..." Dante said, his voice echoing across the vast, desolate plain. Dante's presence alone was enough to make the very air vibrate. "You have grown beyond anything I could have imagined."

Famine, now fully grown, raised his eyes to his master. His immense black cloak billowed in the infernal wind, and his aura expanded like a storm ready to devastate all. He had become a figure worthy of his hunger—one that reflected the grandeur and desolation that Dante had always known he would be.

"I am Famine," he responded, his voice deep and full of power. "But now I understand what this means, master. I am not just appetite. I am the end and the beginning. The need and the destruction. The renewal of Hell."

Dante smiled, though his smile held a bitter taste, as if he knew Famine's hunger would never cease. The Horseman now understood the balance between destruction and renewal, but he also began to grasp that this hunger could never be satisfied, that the pursuit of power and control would never end.

"You were made to be more than a Horseman, Famine," Dante said, walking toward him. "You were made to be the cycle. The very appetite of creation. And what you do will define the future of Hell. You are no longer just a servant, but one of the pillars of our existence."

Famine looked at Dante, his gaze distant yet penetrating, as if he were already planning the next steps. He was no longer the child he had once been, nor the impetuous youth who fought for his insatiable thirst. He was now a master of destructive and creative power, aware of his place in the great cycle of life and death. He had become a living legend.

"And I understand what you say, master," Famine replied. "But I also understand that our hunger never extinguishes. Hell, just like the universe itself, is fueled by hunger. And now, I am the one who feeds this hunger."

Dante nodded, his eyes reflecting a dark pride. He knew that Famine's transformation had not only been a change in appearance, but an evolution. The Horseman now mastered not just the concept of hunger, but the primordial power of renewal through destruction. He was the very reflection of the Apocalypse: the end of all, but also the beginning of the new.

"Then, let us begin, Famine," Dante said. "Now is the right time. The other Horsemen are waiting..."