THE VILLAIN'S POV Chapter 728: Shadow Sect vs the High Demons (10)

With measured steps, the father and son walked together, moving slowly across the terrain.

Abraham provided a steady support for his son’s weight, guiding him toward the final member of their bloodline—the young girl who sat paralyzed, her mind fractured by the harrowing sights she had recently endured.

A peculiar sensation gripped Frey. His limbs felt leaden and unresponsive, as if his physical form was no longer under his true command.

Frey Starlight had always functioned as a vessel for pure chaos, a body housing an staggering array of lethal powers and hidden armaments capable of bringing the world to its knees. The fractured moon hanging in the firmament served as a grim testament to that reality.

Now, however, Frey could feel that internal turbulence expanding, pushing past every restriction he had ever established. For the first time in his life, he felt a genuine chill of terror.

Shadow Adaptation: 6/7

Even with that single notification—and despite his lack of understanding regarding the new heights he had reached—Frey was intimidated by the sheer scale of this power. It felt like a force that no mortal was meant to harness.

And yet, Nameless had once mastered this very essence, reaching for an authority that was even more absolute.

Determined, Frey vowed to do the same.

He would master it for his own survival, and to safeguard the family that had finally been restored to him.

Drained of strength, Frey shifted his eyes toward his father, Abraham.

Abraham’s arm was hooked firmly around Frey’s back to keep him upright. His touch radiated warmth—a tangible sign that Abraham truly lived. The coldness of the dead held no such heat.

That grip was unshakable and strong, the mark of a man one could lean on. He was a man of immense power, a strength he had painstakingly forged for the sole purpose of finding and shielding his kin.

Observing Abraham closely, Frey noted the striking resemblance between them; it was as if he were looking at an older version of himself rather than just a parent.

The primary distinction lay in Frey’s white hair, a result of the premature aging caused by the crushing burdens he had carried. In contrast, Abraham still bore the deep black locks of the Starlight lineage—the source from which everything had originated.

In those fleeting seconds, Frey thought back to the stories his father had recounted... the decades of hardship and the battering he had taken from a cruel world.

Frey’s eyes began to sting.

He was overwhelmed with joy because his father had returned to his side.

But simultaneously, a heavy grief took hold.

He felt sorrow because, after everything Abraham had suffered, he was now forced to navigate this living hell once more by Frey's side.

His heart was a battlefield of conflicting feelings, yet Frey shed no tears.

In truth, he found he was unable to.

It felt as though his very capacity for weeping had been drained away long ago.

Instead of sobbing, a sudden, loud laugh escaped Frey’s lips.

"I feel... as though I'm trapped in a dream. You are actually here, Father. You’re truly alive—the dead don't possess a warmth like yours."

Upon hearing those words, Abraham’s eyes narrowed slightly as he glanced at his son before returning his focus to the path ahead.

"I don't entirely grasp my own condition. I have endured too much, and the sensations of the living have become foreign to me... but at the very least—yes. I am here, my son. I am alive."

Frey gave a small nod.

"It's so surreal... Reaching you was my greatest longing. But now that it's happened, I can't help but wonder—is this a beautiful dream? Or is it just another nightmare?"

As the words left his mouth, a thunderous blast tore through the heavens, causing both men to look up instinctively.

The sky was a vision of terror, literally cleaved in two. One side was draped in absolute darkness while the other remained a brilliant blue, a visual representation of the titanic auras clashing in the heights.

The duel between Gehrman and Wesker was still raging.

The sheer magnitude of their confrontation dwarfed any battle the father and son had previously experienced.

"Life has turned into a never-ending nightmare... Each time a foe falls, a more powerful one rises to take their place. This cycle of violence seems fated to persist—until the moment the ultimate enemy arrives."

"The original nightmare."

"As long as the Demon King draws breath... this cycle will never be broken."

And so, the nightmare would endure.

While Abraham didn't fully comprehend the true extent of the Demon King’s might, his battles with entities like Wesker and Zibar allowed him to guess. If the fourth and tenth ranks were such calamities, their sovereign had to be something beyond imagination.

Frey wished his father didn't have to tread this bloody path again, fighting endless waves of ruthless enemies.

Yet, he couldn't deny the happiness he felt having him there.

It was a selfish desire, he knew.

However, Abraham didn't share that perspective.

"Whether we are in a dream or a nightmare... it is up to us to decide how we live within it. I made my choice a long time ago, my son—from the very moment I first opened my eyes in this world."

"I gave my life to my family. To seeking you out. To keeping you safe. I will continue to do so until my final breath—and even beyond the grave."

The conviction in Abraham Starlight’s heart remained untouched.

If anything, his resolve had only hardened now that his son and daughter were both within reach.

The son from a life gone by.

The daughter of his current existence.

Even the touch of death hadn't forced Abraham Starlight to betray his own principles or his sacred oath. He was prepared to see this through to the bitter end.

"There is no need for guilt. This is the path I have chosen for myself."

Frey remained silent.

He lacked the standing to argue with his father’s resolve, especially when faced with such an iron will.

If anything, his respect for the man only grew.

Staying true to a single belief for an entire lifetime—and through death itself—was a feat few could achieve.

Even the end of his life had been unable to break him.

At that moment, a question flickered in Frey’s mind...

Did he possess that same freedom of choice that his father exercised?

Abraham had walked his path by choice—but what of Frey?

Was his own struggle a product of his will?

Or was he merely a passenger on a road he was being forced to travel against his desires?

Frey contemplated this for a moment... but he found no solution.

He didn't want to find one—because he feared that acknowledging the truth might cause his entire world to crumble.

Shaking off those dark thoughts, Frey and his father finally reached his sister's side.

Ada remained where they had left her, seated on the earth and shielded by a translucent wall of unfathomable power.

A strange aura pulsed from the object clutched in her hands.

That very barrier had held firm against the Rank-13 demon Geppetto.

Yet, it offered no resistance to Abraham and Frey, acting as if it recognized their presence.

As they stepped through the barrier, a wave of relief washed over them; they had feared Ada might be unreachable.

It was painfully clear, however, that she was in a very fragile state.