THE VILLAIN'S POV Chapter 719: Shadow Sect vs the High Demons (1)
Previously on THE VILLAIN'S POV...
This was not the work of Nameless.
This feat belonged to Frey—and Frey alone.
Observing from a distance, Nameless narrowed his gaze with every strike of the sword.
“How peculiar… Despite claiming to be weak, he is executing my own technique with a level of mastery that borders on perfection.”
Frey was proving to be anything but typical.
Initially, he was only capable of reclaiming 30% of his strength through the method Nameless had imparted to him.
However, the heat of combat had changed everything.
“At this very moment… he is restoring over 90% of the power expended in every strike he delivers.”
It was as if he had practiced—no, fully mastered—this secret technique centuries ago.
For the first time, Nameless felt a genuine sense of admiration for the youth known as Frey Starlight.
With such a high rate of recovery, Frey was able to chain Nameless Judgement without end, even as his physical form began to fracture under the immense recoil.
The pain must have been agonizing, yet Frey endured the torment without so much as a flinch.
“Frey Starlight… you are far from weak.”
Nameless murmured softly before falling into a silent vigil, watching Frey’s final, desperate onslaught.
The frenzy continued for a while longer.
Though only a few minutes passed, those watching felt as if they were trapped in an eternal moment.
The sheer destruction wrought by Frey’s assault wiped a massive territory clean from the map. In its place remained a staggering crater, as if a meteor had struck the earth.
For a brief interval, it seemed Frey might never cease his swinging blade.
But eventually, his movements ground to a halt.
It wasn't a choice he made; his body simply gave out.
“Huff… huff… huff…”
Frey fought for every breath, his lungs burning.
Standing amidst the ruin, his arms hung limp and useless at his sides.
Dark Sister, now saturated with the essence of Balerion, slipped from his numb fingers and hit the shattered earth with a dull clang.
Frey wobbled, struggling to remain upright. Sensation had completely vanished from his arms.
They were ruined—utterly destroyed.
Even his innate regeneration was powerless against this level of trauma; the damage exceeded anything he had ever dealt with.
He no longer possessed the strength to even grip his weapon.
His internal aura cycling had failed as well, his reserves completely spent.
He had truly poured out every drop of his being.
Yet, Frey refused to yield.
Because when he forced his gaze upward…
He realized he wasn't the only survivor of the blast.
His targets remained.
Zibar…
And his own father.
Both were still standing.
Zibar was in a wretched state; the once-magnificent armor of Katarina was cracked in several places, and thick, dark demonic blood pooled on the ground.
And Abraham Starlight…
His torso was shredded by long, radiant gashes. Instead of blood, pure white starlight spilled from the wounds.
Aura drifted from his body like fading stardust.
They were critically wounded.
The attack had forced them to expend everything they had to survive.
But they were still upright.
That fact alone pushed the broken Frey to bend down, reaching out with desperation for his discarded blade…
Reaching for Dark Sister.
His hand shook as it moved forward…
But his fingers refused to close around the handle.
“I… I have to keep fighting…”
Frey gritted his teeth, forcing the words out as he made another attempt to retrieve the sword.
Just as his skin brushed the cold metal—
A heavy, dark hand gripped his shoulder firmly.
Before he could even blink, a sharp agony flared through his body as Katarina’s blade was driven through his chest.
“You pushed your luck too far this time, Frey Starlight,” Zibar snarled, Yanking the blade out and shoving Frey aside as blood soaked the soil.
“I’ll grant that I underestimated you… but the battle concludes here.”
Zibar stepped closer, seizing Frey by his long white hair to force his head up.
“You’ve got nothing left. Look over there.”
He pointed toward Abraham, who was slowly limping toward them.
“Your father remains… still our faithful hound. A hound that will tear through humans one by one.”
Zibar gave a mocking smirk, thumping his own chest.
“And I… I am still standing. I will not fall. Do you grasp the meaning of that?”
He leaned in, whispering into Frey’s ear.
“Everything you attempted… was for nothing.”
Those words vibrated through Frey’s soul, a blow more devastating than any physical wound.
Fighting the encroaching darkness of unconsciousness, Frey clung to his senses.
“I… must continue…”
He tried to move, over and over…
But his flesh no longer obeyed his will.
“You won’t be fighting anymore. You won’t do anything at all. I won't permit it.”
Zibar pulled back his fist…
And punched it straight through Frey’s chest cavity.
His arm erupted from Frey’s back in a gruesome spray of crimson.
“You are a nobody, Frey Starlight… absolutely nothing.”
Blood surged up Frey’s throat until he began to choke.
All of this played out before the eyes of Ada Starlight…
Who watched, paralyzed, from behind the protective aura barrier.
Her gaze was vacant—lifeless.
The sight of her father battling her brother had already shattered her hope…
And now, her brother was being slaughtered.
Her hollow eyes wept until the tears simply ran dry.
She pleaded with the device to intervene and save Frey…
But no matter how much she despaired, it remained silent.
It felt… like the end of all things.
However, deep within the ruins of Frey’s body…
The story wasn't over.
Nameless remained, quietly observing the carnage.
He stared for a long duration before looking down at his own hands…
At the foreign emotions that had bled into his being…
Eating away at his very core.
He balled his fists and walked toward the metaphorical campfire within Frey’s consciousness.
“You’ve tainted me with your feelings, Frey Starlight… so what’s a little more damage?”
Nameless stepped forward…
Approaching the flames that flickered inside Frey’s mind.
His eyes ignited with power.
“Swap with me… Frey Starlight.”
Nameless was prepared to enter the fray once more.
Ready to seize control of Frey’s vessel.
Ready to slaughter the demon…
And liberate Abraham Starlight.
It appeared the masked king had weighed this decision heavily…
And had finally committed, prepared to gamble everything.
Nameless was a heartbeat away from taking the reins…
From initiating a nightmare that Zibar and every foe present would never forget.
But at the final second…
He paused.
He stopped because he felt a sudden shift…
A presence that everyone else felt too, causing them to turn their heads in unison.
There, standing at the precipice of the crater of ruin…
A new figure entered the field of battle.
A presence that caused a wide grin to split Zibar’s face.
“At last…”
He had finally shown himself.
Looking down from above, those frigid, blue glass-like eyes surveyed the scene.
He pulled back his hood, exposing his features and shock of blue hair.
It was none other than…
The Engineer.
Gehrman.