Dante never tried to seem like a dangerous demon, a terrible monster...and so on. No, he perfectly understood the level of his strength and danger. He was always aware of what he was capable of and what consequences it could lead to.

But with the advent of Verg, something went wrong. Maybe it was the brotherly competitive spirit, but in Vergil's presence, the air became especially heavy. He certainly didn’t boast about his strength, but he always behaved slightly arrogantly. As if everyone in the room were not his rivals, including Dante himself. The question seemed to hang in the air, “how can Dante compare to a creature who lived his entire life in hell, denying his humanity!?”

Dante didn't care. Before that, he wasn’t particularly taken seriously, but now... He always tried not to show that it bothered him, not when you joked about a man’s weakness.

Not you. His most precious creation that he cherished so much.

Unable to bear this, Dante literally burst into flames, burning everything around him, letting his anger devour the battered office.

“I am as much a son of Sparda as he is!” Dante screamed terribly, and glass literally rained down from his head.