THE VILLAIN'S POV Chapter 745: A World Worth Destroying

Everything stems from me.

The source of all this agony for those around me.

Without my presence in their lives... maybe they could have avoided this terrible end.

The blood flows heavily... and it refuses to wash away.

It just keeps spreading further.

I need to press on relentlessly.

I lack the permission to halt... or to flee from this unavoidable path any longer.

"To push ahead, I have to crush everyone underfoot...

incinerate their spirits, right down to the final one."

To seize strength, I have to inflict pain on them.

Inflict suffering on others.

Nourish this fixation inside me... allow it to swell bigger and bigger.

"I’ll keep stuffing this void with bodies... until it's utterly packed."

I have no idea how many additional lives I'll need to take for that goal.

"But that's okay," I rasped, a bitter chuckle slipping from my mouth.

"That's okay."

It seemed like the entire world was forcing me along this route.

And if that's true...

"I'm not the guilty one here.

This world is."

A corrupt realm.

A polluted, unfair realm.

A realm where nobody can pick their own destiny...

a realm dominated by mighty forces from on high, entities so bold and presumptuous they dictate the futures of whole peoples and countries.

I'm merely another casualty caught in that control.

A stream of destiny laid out just for me...

one from which I could never break free.

"Using these hands, I'll shatter this world... and forge a new one."

"A world where my sister Ada... my father... and everyone else can exist peacefully, free from any danger to their existence."

For that end, it doesn't matter if I turn into a beast.

A fiend.

"I'll build that world... or perish in the attempt."

Having etched my fresh purpose deep into my essence,

I made my initial move ahead.

Purple fires burst into life surrounding my form, and a fearsome might rushed out—sustained by the blazing spirits.

An immense rush of vigor poured through my bloodstream, and finally, I grasped why the higher levels of Shadow Adaptation stood apart.

Every stage embodied the ultimate height that rebellious abilities could attain.

"Now I possess six."

I still didn't know the effect of the fifth stage...

But I was sure the upcoming clash would reveal it.

"Armed with this might... I'll make it happen."

In one stride, I blasted the earth under me and closed the gap to the fray.

"Now's the moment to test the full extent of this might."

...

...

...

While Frey stirred to life with his recently gained might...

The conflict in another spot hit its peak.

In general, the Shadow Sect gained no edge.

Except for Fulghor, who succeeded in overwhelming Vine through raw might...

Snow Lionheart proved obviously inferior to Nito.

And Gehrman, alongside Abraham, found themselves unable to challenge a beast like Amon.

Amon's might proved crushing...

so much so that Gehrman grew convinced it exceeded even Wesker and Vine's.

The confrontation tilted completely in one direction.

The blue-eyed warrior could only dodge, depending on his remarkable swiftness. He failed to launch any solid retaliation, or cause harm to Amon.

Abraham didn't do any better.

He couldn't connect his sword with the fiend whatsoever... Amon parried each blow with ridiculous simplicity.

The circumstances stood totally opposed to them.

"This isn't looking good... I've already deployed the Hand of the Ruler on Wesker. It won't be ready for use again for a while."

In such a skirmish, the Hand of the Ruler served as Gehrman's mightiest tool versus horrors like Amon.

"None of my remaining strikes can pierce his guard..."

If Gehrman had operated at full capacity, the outcome might have shifted.

Even lacking the Hand of the Ruler, he might have devised a path to victory.

The predicament grew severe...

Still, Gehrman showed no signs of despair.

And that drew Amon's notice.

"You possess ironclad resolve, Saint Gehrman... Those eyes don't belong to someone teetering on loss," Amon remarked, his eyes sharpening.

Simultaneously, he lifted his hand, sending out a surge of shadowy energy that easily blocked Abraham's sudden assault.

Abraham had lurked for the ideal chance... yet his attempt proved entirely pointless.

"You're concealing a secret, right?" Amon inquired with icy calm.

Gehrman balled his hand, holding steady his composed face.

With no response from Gehrman, Amon pressed on.

"I've learned that Nameless can temporarily claim his host's body... That's what allowed him to overcome Zibar before. Is that your reliance?"

"You speak excessively," Gehrman shot back with irritation.

Amon brushed it aside.

"Pardon me. Yet I relish battling foes like you... since shattering you makes it all worthwhile."

Gehrman resembled Wesker closely.

Such warriors always layered strategies, secret aces ready to flip the tide instantly... rendering them particularly vexing adversaries.

However, Amon savored clashes with these kinds.

For him, it resembled unraveling a riddle—exposing each hidden truth his rival guarded, then demolishing them sequentially.

"Once your schemes exhaust themselves... that's when the true thrill starts."

Witnessing their hopelessness... broken, robbed of assurance... thrilled Amon deeply.

"Don't let me down, Gehrman. I hold high hopes for you!"

Amon disappeared.

Gehrman followed suit.

A blistering pursuit ignited... swift beyond the ability of bare eyes to follow.

Concurrently, blasts started erupting all around, enormous and dreadful.

Abraham attempted to match them, but their pace outstripped his current capabilities entirely.

"Both of them move with mad velocity... making their shifts seem like instant jumps," Abraham grumbled, clenching his sword tighter.

He stayed composed.

Rather, he seized the interval to regain as much vigor as he could, biding his time for the perfect strike.

In the meantime, the hunt between Gehrman and Amon raged on...

with such ferocity that they spanned hundreds of miles within moments.

"How much longer will you flee, Saint?" Amon bellowed, slamming into the emptiness.

A whole zone underneath burst apart suddenly.

At their velocity, the blasts appeared to trigger independently.

Occasionally, the pair swept past inhabited zones throughout the Empire.

Those folks suffered the worst fate...

turned to ash in split seconds, clueless about the cause.

"Gehrman! Right now, your sole superiority over me lies in that ridiculous quickness!" Amon thundered once more, hurling torrents of shadowy ruin from his palms.

Gehrman evaded them all... though the havoc tore through huge stretches of the Empire.

"Beyond quickness, I dominate in all areas. And regarding quickness alone, I match you without trouble."

"How long can you sustain that lead? Eventually, you'll err... and that seals your doom."

"And here's a fact for you...

even should your lord assume the host, I'll handle him too. So abandon that fantasy!"

Amon pursued without mercy.

Gehrman failed to lose him.

"Listening to you is utterly irritating," Gehrman stated during the flight, twisting his head while thrusting an arm at Amon.

"So let's begin by silencing you."