THE VILLAIN'S POV Chapter 699: Starlight

Deep within the territories of the Empire, specifically across the Starlight Province...

A devastating conflict erupted between three legendary heroes of old and a nightmare reborn from the annals of history.

Abraham Starlight, the supreme genius of House Starlight, had transformed into a heartless instrument of war.

He had become a manifestation of light and slaughter, possessing speed and physical power that bypassed all logic. His Cultivation and prowess occupied a realm far above the trio, leaving even Nova Starlight—the progenitor of the Star Dust Technique—in a state of utter shock.

"Never... in my wildest dreams did I think I would witness my own creation being used in such a manner."

Nova felt a throbbing ache in his head just contemplating the mastery required to mimic such a feat; managing the Ignition state should have been an impossible task for any living soul.

"It was your bloodline that paved the way for our destruction, Nova," Inver Sunlight spat, his frame flickering with celestial fire. "If we continue like this, our end will be nothing short of pathetic."

With a thunderous cry, he tapped into the scorching essence of Ilios—the Eternal Flame itself.

"To be struck down by his hands the very moment our seals are broken would be the ultimate disgrace..."

A low, simmering chuckle escaped him as his aura flared violently outward.

"A disgrace I refuse to accept!

Eternal Flame — Ilios State: Dusk of the Solar Mass!"

As Nova and Avalon engaged Abraham in a direct struggle, Inver fell back several paces to concentrate his full reserves of Qi.

His flames shifted from blue to a deep violet, burning with the intensity of a collapsing sun. He launched the attack toward Abraham—a concentrated sphere of stellar fire designed to erase everything in its path.

The resulting detonation shook the very heavens.

Surges of violet fire consumed the terrain, liquefying the earth beneath. Both Nova and Avalon were forced to retreat to escape the searing heat.

"That ought to have left a mark, at the very least..."

However, their optimism was misplaced.

From the heart of the inferno, Abraham stepped out with measured strides, his stellar aura acting as a boundary that repelled the Eternal Flame with ease.

"This is truly maddening..." Inver hissed, his face twisting into a scowl.

"Never in my existence have I encountered a human of this caliber... both terrifying and awe-inspiring... yet he stands among our enemies."

The true depth of his strength eluded them, but his presence alone triggered instincts associated with the most powerful demons of the past.

In those brief seconds, Nova’s thoughts raced with the speed of a lightning strike.

'I have reached the peak of SSS-Stage Two... and both Inver and Avalon are at a similar level.

Yet even by combining our forces, we cannot bring him to his knees.'

That realization led to a single, grim conclusion.

'He has reached Stage Four... or is at the very least at the summit of Stage Three.'

If that assessment held true, Abraham’s individual power was comparable to Zibar, one of the High Demons.

Supported by his World-Breaking Ability, his physical vessel—now composed entirely of Aura—processed and circulated power with a precision that was no longer human.

Cold dread gripped Nova’s heart.

"I loathe to confess it... but a frontal confrontation will not grant us victory.

To win, we would need to offer up our very lives... and even then, success isn't guaranteed."

Inver’s gaze sharpened. The tactic Nova alluded to was Ignition—the act of burning one's life essence for a temporary surge of godlike power.

But even if Nova made that sacrifice, he would still fall short of Abraham, who had already perfected Ignition through his Absolute Manipulator trait.

Nonetheless, Nova’s spirit did not waver. There was no time for second-guessing.

"Let us finish this."

He released the entirety of his hidden power.

In that heartbeat, the Star Dust Technique manifested in its most untainted form. Nova hoisted his sword, which glowed as brightly as a sun brought down to the world.

"Strike now! Give him everything you have!"

The three legends launched a simultaneous assault.

"Star Dust Technique — Ultimate Art: Stellar Tempest!"

"Eternal Flame — Ilios: Infinite Inferno!"

"Light Formation — Ultimate Art: Dawn Severance!"

Their unified strike blotted out the sky, three pinnacle techniques weaving together into a single, world-shaking disaster.

Abraham did not flinch, charging straight into the epicenter of the storm without breaking his pace.

Star Aura, Flame Aura, and Light Aura merged to bury him under their weight.

His survival instincts screamed. Crossing his twin blades, he summoned a deluge of starlight that wrapped around his form like a cocoon.

Then, with a flash that tore the sky asunder, his aura condensed into a massive, glowing orb—a living star.

Nova stood frozen, his eyes wide with shock.

"That... that is the Star Dust Technique... but it does not belong to my lineage."

This was an entirely new evolution—a technique Abraham had forged himself, reminiscent of how Frey Starlight once developed the Nameless Judgement.

Shielded within his miniature sun, Abraham collided head-on with the trio’s combined might.

The impact tore the landscape apart, and the fabric of space itself seemed to groan under the pressure.

When the chaos finally subsided, a pristine white dome remained—a star-shaped shell of radiance that stood defiant against the ruin.

Inside that shell... Abraham Starlight remained standing.

There he was, Abraham Starlight, completely unharmed.

Not a single scratch could be found on his person, and even the patch of dirt beneath his boots was preserved.

His aura was suffocating and dread-inducing.

Slowly, Abraham allowed the radiant star protecting him to dissolve, turning off his absolute defense.

The truth was undeniable now—the clash had concluded.

The peak strength of three legendary masters had failed to even graze him.

Simply put, they were incapable of defeating him.

Though Abraham had survived their final gambit without injury, he quickly deduced his opponents' true intent.

Nova Starlight had recognized from the beginning that they could not win.

In that desperate moment, he had opted for the only viable path: escape.

Silence reclaimed the battlefield. Abraham stood in solitude; his foes had vanished.

They had fled at the final moment, using the blinding light of their joint attack—the one Abraham had focused on blocking—as a smokescreen.

Had he chosen to counter-attack instead of defend, they likely would have perished.

But they had bet their lives on his decision to protect himself, and their gamble had paid off.

Even so, Abraham did not plan to let them escape so easily.

He projected his aura across the horizon, scanning for even the most microscopic trace of their presence...

But his search yielded nothing.

They had disappeared entirely, suggesting that one of them possessed a high-level teleportation technique.

As their presence faded, Abraham’s heightened senses calmed, and his aura receded back into his body.

He stood as the lone figure amidst the wreckage.

Victory was his, yet he had failed to eliminate his targets.

There was nothing left but to withdraw... and wait for the next conflict where he would be deployed.

...

...

...

Far from the front lines, past the Empire's reach, within the sanctuary of the Shadow Sect—the final refuge for the war's survivors...

A pair of eyes slowly blinked open.

Frey Starlight had finally returned to consciousness.

He had made a full recovery, overcoming the deep fatigue caused by pushing the powers of Nameless to their absolute breaking point.

Waking up, Frey found himself within the Shadow Sect's temple. The atmosphere was strangely quiet; the others were likely busy managing the aftermath of the recent disaster.

The only person nearby was Uriel, who had clearly been the one to stabilize his Meridians and heal his wounds following the duel with Wesker.

To save him, she had been forced to manifest that golden angel for an extended period, which had left her utterly drained.

She was currently fast asleep at his side.

Looking at her, Frey stood up softly and placed his cloak over her shoulders before stepping out of the room.

A dull ache persisted in his head... but his focus returned instantly.

In that moment, one name drowned out all other thoughts:

"Ada..."

His sister.

Her name was still pulsing in a deep crimson on his system display, indicating she was in grave peril.

Frey cast everything else aside, prepared to set out at once... until he was forced to stop.

In the shadows of the temple ahead, a blood-red butterfly fluttered quietly through the air. It circled him, leaving a trail of shimmering red dust as if beckoning him to follow.

He knew this sight immediately.

It belonged to the mysterious individual who had come to his aid before.

Without a word, he followed the trail.

The butterfly led him with grace through the darkened corridors, eventually reaching a concealed path that opened into a ruined sector at the peak of the black mountain where the Shadow Sect resided.

"Where are you leading me?"

Frey whispered, his curiosity tempered by caution.

After a few moments, the butterfly paused in mid-air. Its wings dissolved, falling away like glowing embers of red dust.

Within that light, a silhouette began to manifest—a woman who projected an air of calm and radiance.

The image solidified until she stood before him: a woman appearing to be in her late twenties, dressed in a flowing crimson gown.

She possessed a haunting beauty—red eyes, cascading scarlet hair, and an aura that felt oddly familiar to his soul.

Even though Frey had never met her, a profound sense of recognition stirred within him.

Standing before him, the woman gave a small, faint smile.

"At long last... we meet. After all these years of waiting."

Her voice was tinged with a soft melancholy, carrying the weight of a long vigil.

"Who are you?"

Frey asked, ignoring her sentiment as he sought direct answers.

"My name is Audrey. Does that name ring a bell?"

Upon hearing that name, Frey’s eyes widened in realization.

He knew the name—but not in the context she might have expected.

Audrey.

She was one of the primary heroines of the story—the most powerful among them, a woman whose peak strength rivaled that of Snow himself.

He had once written her into existence... but he never dreamed he would encounter her in person like this.

However, this Audrey did not fit the descriptions of the legends.

The person in front of him was not the unstoppable warrior who broke demons and challenged the gods.

Her gaze was gentle and filled with pain.

She appeared less like a legendary fighter and more like a simple, fragile, and kind-hearted girl.

"This... I don't understand."

Frey murmured, his mind struggling to piece it together.

Almost by instinct, he sent out a small ripple of aura to probe her existence.

It was then that the truth became clear.

"Your current level of power allows you to see the truth, Frey. You aren't slow... you can see that this is merely a projection, a tiny shard of my consciousness."

Audrey spoke softly as she closed the distance between them.

"So this isn't your actual body..."

"No," she confessed quietly.

What stood before him was nothing more than a fleeting manifestation—a butterfly that had managed to escape Helmund, carrying a piece of her mind.

Her physical self had no knowledge that this conversation was even occurring.

In the physical world, the true Audrey was a broken shell, trapped in a cycle of endless suffering and used by demons as a perpetual battery for Aura.

She had lost track of reality long ago... she didn't even know she had been the one to save Frey and Snow.

Millennia of torture had decimated her mind.

And now, this lone fragment... this single butterfly... was the only thing left of the woman once revered as the Crimson Saint.