THE VILLAIN'S POV Chapter 727: Shadow Sect vs the High Demons (9)

"What... the hell is happening to me?!"

Dragged violently into the deepest reaches of his own consciousness, Frey was unable to resist the sudden surge. At the final moment, Nameless had intervened, pulling him into the inner realm.

He tumbled into the mental void, where the masked king stood waiting for him.

"You... what is happening to me?" Frey demanded, his voice shaking with uncertainty.

Nameless replied with a tranquil demeanor that felt ancient. "No need for that face. You will survive."

He shifted his gaze toward the sky, and Frey followed his lead. Above them, a massive abyss of darkness was taking shape, expanding with every passing heartbeat.

"...What is that?" Frey asked, visibly shaken.

"Your body received too much power at once. It is struggling to contain it, nothing more."

"Two stages of Shadow Adaptation... and advanced ones, at that. Among my greatest abilities."

Nameless turned his attention back to Frey. "On top of that, the Shadowbolt Spear... naturally, your body will not withstand such rapid evolution smoothly."

"Spear? So that thing... belongs to me now?"

"Of course. It was originally one of my weapons. And since you are my vessel, you can wield it as naturally as your own limbs."

The voice of Nameless grew deeper, carrying a heavy, foreboding weight. "Soon, Frey Starlight, you will stand at a crossroads. This overwhelming power will rebound upon you, sooner or later... And I look forward to seeing which path you choose."

With a swift motion, Nameless cast Frey out of the inner void, returning him to the physical world.

Frey’s eyes snapped open. He remained in the arms of his father, but the agonizing pain had vanished; the turbulent aura within him had been mysteriously quieted. Nameless must have stabilized the energy, helping him endure the transformation.

"...Father."

Now that his mind was clear, Frey truly realized who was standing beside him—Abraham Starlight. The father he had believed was lost to him forever.

A sense of relief washed over Abraham as he assisted Frey in standing. "You fought well... Frey," he said, exhaling gently.

Frey let out a weak chuckle. "’Frey’? Is that what you’re calling me now?"

"It is the name we chose for you in this world, my son. Do not reject it." Abraham offered a soft smile, keeping a supportive arm under his son as they moved toward Ada.

Even though the instability of Frey's aura had been resolved, the physical toll of the battle hit him all at once. Standing was a challenge, and walking was even more difficult. He had no choice but to rely on his father for support.

"Did you kill Geppetto?" Abraham inquired as they traversed the ground.

Abraham only recognized the name because Geppetto was the one who had brought him back to life. Frey gave a nod. "I did."

"Good."

"You’re incredibly strong, Father... You still have so much power left even after all this. Look at me compared to you... haha," Frey laughed weakly.

Abraham joined in the laughter. "You are far stronger than you think, my son. I am certain you will surpass me soon. I merely exist to clear your path."

"You’re overestimating me... Look at me, Father. I’m nothing but a naive fool, a puppet tossed around by forces standing at the top of the world."

He raised his eyes toward the heavens. Above them, another conflict was raging: Wesker versus German. It was a clash far more intense than the battle they had just survived.

"I’m no god... nothing close. Just a human. Just your son." Frey smiled bitterly. "I couldn’t change anything. I let them take your corpse... desecrate it. If not for the Engineer, we would have killed each other. I’m helpless. Pathetic."

They walked slowly across the devastated terrain while the thunder from the overhead battle shook the skies. Abraham listened in silence before offering a peaceful smile.

"You know... hearing that from you brought me peace."

Frey looked at him, confused. Abraham continued, his mind drifting back to the distant past.

"To be honest... there was a time when I doubted what you truly were, my son," Abraham said. "I still remember holding you in my arms as a newborn... in this life, and in the one before it. You were flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood... twice, not once."

"But one day... I was given the chance to witness your true self... your soul... what you really are, stripped of every shell and disguise. What I saw was something far beyond human understanding... something someone like me could never hope to grasp. At that moment, I started to believe you might not be what I always thought... a mere mortal child. Perhaps something higher... a divine being, even."

Abraham spoke without any hesitation, revealing a truth he had kept hidden for years. Frey listened in silence, unable to find the words to respond.

"But you know..." Abraham continued, his voice warming as if filled with sunlight. "Hearing you call yourself just a human, watching you lean on me... struggling to even walk... I felt relief."

He smiled, tightening his grip on Frey’s shoulders. "In the end, you are still my son. Flesh of my flesh. Let the world call you a monster, a god, or something beyond comprehension... but to me, you will always be my child. The one I am proud of."

His tone left no room for uncertainty; love was evident in every word. Those words hit Frey harder than any blade, curse, or battle he had ever faced.

Frey blinked once, then twice. A shaky smile appeared on his face. Slowly, his composure broke as the weight of years of buried emotions finally crushed his defenses. His lips trembled and his breath hitched as he lowered his head, hiding his face behind his arm.

Abraham saw it all—the trembling, the silent plea, and the breakdown of a warrior who had carried a heavy burden for far too long. He pulled him into a firm, warm, and unshakable embrace.

"It’s alright to cry, my son," he whispered into Frey’s hair. "It’s alright to tremble. We are not perfect beings... we were never meant to be. We lose sometimes. We win sometimes. But we never fall forever... and when we do, we rise again."

Frey trembled quietly in his father's arms. These simple, human words were exactly what he needed—more than power, victory, or any grand destiny. After years of carrying the weight of the world alone, bleeding and surviving, he finally found the strength to breathe. That breath of life was Abraham.

The father who had once died for him continued to save him even from beyond the grave. It was a bond forged in blood, tested by the fires of hell, and tempered by the heat of war. It was a connection stronger than fate and more powerful than the demons themselves.

Together, father and son—Frey Starlight and Abraham Starlight—had defeated Zibar, the Tenth Rank Demon. One of the greatest evils to ever exist was slain by the power of their bond. The Starlight Duo had shattered a legend.