THE VILLAIN'S POV Chapter 683: Frey and Snow vs Wesker (1)

High above the field of slaughter, underneath a sky stained scarlet,

a crimson eye manifested within the void...

it was immense, unblinking, and filled with malice.

This presence, both terrifying and hypnotic,

peered down upon the Souls of every living creature below.

With but a single look from that gaze,

the injuries Frey had carved into Wesker disappeared at once,

as if no harm had ever touched him.

Simultaneously,

those who met the stare of that eye began to perish where they stood...

their Souls dissolving into nothingness.

"That was a commendable strike," Wesker remarked with composure,

tilting his gaze toward the firmament.

"I presume it is the same technique that took down Zibar...

and tore the moon asunder."

Indeed, Frey Starlight had attained a staggering level of power...

even without having officially broken through to the SSS rank.

This was the consequence of possessing a body that held the potential

of a combatant as legendary as Nameless himself.

Yet, in the face of Wesker, even such strength fell short.

Frey realized this the moment he surveyed the carnage below...

the Imperial legions were being wiped out.

Should this persist, the conflict would conclude in utter ruin.

It was almost absurd...

how Wesker had shifted the entire momentum of the war

through nothing more than his sheer presence,

transforming certain victory into absolute despair.

Every action he had taken thus far was designed to trap Frey Starlight...

though his ultimate intentions remained a mystery.

He was an entity of suffocating horror,

one who shattered the spirits of his foes

long before he ever destroyed their physical forms.

And against a rival of this caliber...

what hope did Frey have?

Each time he looked at Wesker,

and that colossal crimson eye looming above,

he was consumed by a sense of hopelessness...

a despair far more profound than any he had encountered,

even during his life-and-death struggle against Zibar.

However, just as Frey was on the verge of collapsing under that pressure,

a change occurred.

A radiant explosion of energy erupted

from above the crimson eye...

a light that was both divine and untainted.

"Judgment of Light!"

The voice of Snow Lionheart shook the very heavens.

A shaft of brilliance sliced through the blood-red sky,

stabbing the eye from the inside and blowing it to pieces.

Darkness was consumed by radiance.

Within moments, Snow appeared—

his form encased in the shimmering plate of the Anointed War State.

He descended from the heart of the blast,

looking majestic and formidable,

while his sword, Vermithor, pulsed like a fallen star.

Wesker moved with lightning speed,

manifesting a swirl of dark aura around his palm

to meet Snow’s falling blade head-on.

The two powers smashed together,

light and shadow locked in a violent, world-shaking contest.

Even though the disparity in their Cultivation was vast,

Snow did not retreat,

his very being emitting pulses of blinding force.

"This is... the Soul of Light,"

Wesker whispered, identifying the power instantly.

"Stand up, Frey! This is no time to give up!" Snow yelled,

straining forward even as Wesker’s shadows pushed against him.

"The foe is right before us... we either fight or we perish!"

He struck again, launching a rapid succession of sacred blows,

his luminous aura clashing violently against the void.

"The distance between us is massive," Snow cried out,

pointing Vermithor toward the clouds,

"but we are not without hope!"

An even greater surge of divine energy flooded his body.

"The Soul of Light is the inherent bane of demons...

it incinerates them from the inside out!"

In the ancient eras of the past,

the Soul of Light had indeed managed to wound Agaroth himself.

Although Snow was no longer as potent as he had been

during his time as the Pure Vessel,

he still held the conviction that he could hurt Wesker...

provided Frey could find a moment of weakness.

This was the silent plea he sent to his comrade.

"We shall fight—until our very last breath!"

BOOOOOOM!

The firmament shook with detonations as Snow charged once more,

his brilliance colliding with Wesker’s gloom,

leaving streaks of black and white carved across the sky.

"If victory is ours, then so be it! If we fall—let it be so!

We will die in battle! We will die trying!"

There was no alternative.

There was no running from the Fourth Seat of the Upper Demons.

Frey finally grasped that truth.

While his companion battled with everything he had,

Wesker slowly began to dominate the exchange.

"You truly embody the spirit of a hero, Snow,"

Wesker said, deflecting Vermithor with a smirk.

"To be frank, I always viewed you as merely another mortal...

perhaps stronger than the rest,

but hardly worth noticing compared to Frey."

He grinned, a hint of genuine interest coloring his voice.

"But you have caught me by surprise.

I was unable to read your destiny at all.

I had assumed it was because of Frey Starlight’s proximity...

but no... that was not the case."

Wesker reached out his hand.

An eerie energy began to coalesce around his fingers.

"You aren't human, are you?

You are a Lightbearer...

the one who possesses the more powerful half of the Soul of Light.

That changes the situation entirely."

He lifted his arm higher.

"Hand of Death."

As soon as the words were uttered by Wesker,

Snow felt a sudden constriction in his chest...

as if a freezing, invisible fist was crushing his heart.

Before he could even blink,

his heart exploded within his ribcage,

and blood began to leak through the seams of his golden helmet.

His radiance wavered.

And his form began to plummet.

"You wield a power similar to the First Lord of Light,"

Wesker remarked with a faint smile.

"That makes you a threat."

Behind his shoulder, a spear of darkness took shape,

its tip vibrating with the energy of the void.

"Unlike Frey Starlight,

I have no incentive to let a danger like you persist.

Perish, Snow."

The spear was fired with incredible velocity...

a streak of shadow that rent the air.

Snow’s heart was already gone;

that injury alone should have been fatal.

But Wesker sought absolute certainty...

the total erasure of the body.

The spear hit its target...

yet at the final moment,

Snow’s body shattered into fragments of pure light,

leaving even Wesker momentarily stunned.

The projectile passed through empty air,

as the luminous shards whirled together,

reforming into Snow Lionheart once again,

standing defiant in his glowing armor,

Vermithor burning in his grip.

In a blur of movement too fast for the eye to follow,

he swung a devastating slash at Wesker...

who barely blocked it in time,

conjuring a barrier of dark aura.

Light and shadow clashed repeatedly,

their impacts tearing through the atmosphere with apocalyptic strength.

Ultimately, the light failed to break through...

but it created enough force to make even Wesker hesitate,

his crimson eyes shining with real curiosity.

Across from him, visible through the fractures in his golden visor,

Snow Lionheart’s eyes burned with an iron will.

"Wesker... or perhaps I should call you—Aegon."

Floating in the sky, with a radiant aura billowing behind him,

Snow gathered his remaining strength.

"You haven't changed in the slightest. Even now, having shown your demonic form,

you remain the same foul, treacherous rat.

You can destroy my heart as many times as you wish—

it will not stop me."

"Because what dwells inside me

transcends the simple concept of blood.

Something untainted... far beyond your reach."

Snow’s entire body flared with brilliance,

his resolve burning fiercely as he pushed beyond his natural boundaries.

"I am the Pure Vessel."

The moment those words were spoken,

he vanished...

appearing instantly before Wesker at the speed of light,

striking with surgical accuracy.

His swordsmanship was legendary...

perfect, flowing, and blindingly swift.

The White Knight of Humanity was no ordinary warrior.

He had dedicated his entire existence to perfecting this path,

striving to reclaim the identity that time had erased.

It was written that Lightbearers and Demons were eternally linked...

each the polar opposite of the other.

One represented the dawn; the other, the abyss.

And among all Lightbearers,

Snow Lionheart was born as the most untainted...

the most powerful of his kind.

The Pure Vessel.

His strength existed for the sole purpose of eradicating demons.

Against such foes, his limitations dissolved...

releasing the true potential of the Soul of Light.

Now, he radiated more intensely than ever before,

exhibiting a level of power significantly greater

than when he had fought Gepetto’s creation

and suffered defeat at the hands of that masked stranger.

The eruption of energy was immense,

and his battle with Wesker became a duel of deities...

radiance against shadow,

the heavens against the pit.

Draped in golden plate,

Snow appeared less like a mortal

and more like a divine knight sent to bring salvation to the world.

Yet the grim reality was inescapable:

even with this transcendent power,

even with every blow bolstered by the Soul of Light,

Snow was unable to draw a single drop of blood from Wesker.