THE VILLAIN'S POV Chapter 764 A Chapter Written in Death (2)
Previously on THE VILLAIN'S POV...
The War General of the Shadow Sect, Fulghor, obviously yearned to dive into the fray—yet his present state simply forbade it.
"I see you've depleted every bit of your aura battling that Third-Rank Demoness," Gehrman noted with keen insight.
As Gehrman hoisted himself onto Fulghor's shoulder, the warrior nodded, and the two departed the scene together.
"Forgive me, my old comrade. Had you not shared half your strength with me, none of this would've occurred," Gehrman murmured.
"No apologies necessary," Fulghor responded with steady composure. "My strength played a key role in toppling the Fourth-Rank High Demon, Wesker. For that victory alone, I'd have offered you everything I possess... much less just half."
At those words, a soft sigh of ease escaped Gehrman as he perched upon Fulghor's broad shoulder.
Gradually, his gaze shifted backward toward the chaos of the battlefield they were leaving behind.
Frey Starlight dashed in the contrary direction, bearing his kin—Abraham and Ada—upon his back.
Amon's Transparent World hampered his ability to teleport, compelling Frey to sprint far enough to escape its bounds before attempting any far-reaching jumps. Inside that realm, teleportation was limited to brief hops within the barrier's confines.
This left Frey with no option but to flee on foot—hauling his family along while slashing through undead foes with his blade in the process.
Even amid the desperate peril, Frey kept his cool, his feelings scarcely surfacing any longer.
Observing him, Gehrman sensed a profound shift had taken root in Frey's very being.
Then...
Right then, while Gehrman fixed his eyes on Frey's vanishing form...
Frey spun about.
His sharpened awareness cut through the miles and turmoil, zeroing in on Gehrman's stare—a stark testament to the immense progress Frey Starlight had achieved.
Gehrman's azure eyes connected with Frey's shadowy ones.
Several wordless moments ticked by.
In unison, the pair inclined their heads in acknowledgment.
For the very first time, they met as peers.
Gone were the scheming tactician and the innocent mortal...
In their place stood a pair of genuine fighters, locked in the same fierce struggle.
With that, the Shadow Sect pulled back from the fray, abandoning the field to the freshly arrived third faction, who stirred up pandemonium right beside the demons.
In the days ahead, this whole clash would etch itself into legend...
The War of Shadows.
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The clock kept ticking onward.
The chain of happenings never halted.
A complete day had elapsed since the skirmish concluded—and its repercussions rippled out, jolting the globe.
Word raced far and wide at an alarming speed... not just over Earth, but across the wider realms beyond.
The key dispatches boiled down to these essentials:
The Shadow Sect had made its comeback, unleashing a ferocious assault on the High Demons.
The results were breathtaking.
Its standout consequence:
The Shadow Sect had slain the Thirteenth-Rank High Demon, Geppetto... a vital linchpin in the demons' arsenal of warfare.
The Shadow Sect had taken down one of the elite Top Ten High Demons... namely the Tenth Rank, the Demons' War General... Zibar, wielder of the Soul of Reincarnation.
This revelation hit like lightning, rattling the world to its foundations. Ages had passed since anyone felled even one of the Ten High Demons.
Yet the real bombshell followed hard on its heels.
Led by the returned Saint Gehrman on the front lines, the Shadow Sect also eliminated the Fourth-Rank High Demon—Wesker, possessor of the King's Eye.
This bombshell ignited global uproar—though the surprises didn't stop.
Thanatos had broken free.
An Original Soul Bearer had resurfaced on Planet Earth.
All these tidings flooded in over one frantic day... while Earth's war raged without pause.
These developments quaked the world profoundly... above all, the tidings of Wesker's demise.
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Golmara — Home of the Ghouls
The demise of the Fourth High Rank filtered through to an age-old abomination.
A creature boasting four limbs and a frame of deep scarlet muscle...
The third of the Seven Great Powers...
The Ghoul King, Radagon.
"That wretched beast... Wesker... has perished?"
The Ghoul Sovereign appeared dumbfounded... struggling to accept it...
after clashing with that fiend in person and coming up short in slaying him.
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Meanwhile—
Lucaria, the secluded realm of sorcerers cut off from the outer world, caught wind of the reports too.
Still, the mages brushed them aside, clinging to their seclusion and shunning any ties to external affairs.
In contrast...
The updates snagged the interest of a figure freshly inducted into the Seven Great Powers,
now occupying the Fifth position...
Sieghart, the Ascendant Prodigy.
"Planet Earth? Never crossed my path before..."
Such was his first thought.
But upon grasping the full scope of events there...
The Ascendant Prodigy rerouted his travels, fixing his path toward an unexpected goal.
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The reports kept rippling outward...
though they bypassed the notice of Midir, the foremost of the Seven Great Powers,
and Orested, the runner-up...
as both had already ventured to the enigmatic continent materializing at the cosmos's heart.
That occurrence by itself loomed enormous.
Now, Earth's dispatches only amplified the worldwide strain.
"What on earth is unfolding?"
Such was the query echoing everywhere.
The rise of that baffling continent lured myriad mighty entities,
guaranteeing a colossal clash there—
as demons and myriad other peoples stormed it all at once.
Concurrently...
A savage conflict burst forth in a remote sector of the stars,
upon a vulnerable world named Earth...
a strife uniting the timeless Shadow Sect against the High Demons, heightening its enormity.
Following a prolonged stretch of tranquility and serenity...
It appeared the era of conflict had dawned anew.
But the world remained oblivious then
to how the impending doom would eclipse all prior turmoil...
how the looming disaster would engulf them entirely,
without prelude...
and without pity.
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The Day After the Battle
(The hour the announcement of Wesker's death was made)
The clash between Amon and Thanatos wrapped up inconclusively once Neto stepped in.
The duel dragged on extensively, yet Thanatos couldn't eliminate his foes owing to the missing pinnacle of his arsenal—the Death Soul—and the scarcity of potent cadavers in his collection.
His personal might proved horrifying...
Yet it fell short of overcoming Amon and Nito combined.
In the end, the confrontation ceased with every side retreating,
after a huge swath of the Empire lay in total ruin.
The demon forces entrenched themselves on Ultras Continent.
Thanatos, meanwhile, seized the Empire for his domain
and set about forging a fresh legion from the local remains...
gearing up for his grand resurgence.
To counter this, the Shadow Sect spirited away as many people as feasible, steering them eastward.
Though they rescued throngs of Imperial folk, countless others tumbled into Thanatos' grasp...
Transforming him into a third autonomous player in Earth's turmoil.
The Shadow Sect took root in the east...
amid the former Eastern Nightmare Lands.
In this way, Planet Earth split into three rival camps,
their intensifying strife fated to unleash mounting devastation.