THE VILLAIN'S POV Chapter 775 The Age of Destruction

Even with its immense vastness and endless expanse, the universe can occasionally seem oddly confined.

The events unfolding in Helmond rapidly disseminated throughout all of existence in a remarkably brief period. Before long, every being became aware of the incident—and of the fierce confrontation that utterly transformed Helmond's landscape.

The formidable Great Ones had launched an assault on a forbidden territory that no one had ventured near since the dawn of time, despite the Demon King's own presence guarding it.

Merely hearing the name Agaroth was typically sufficient to discourage anyone from even considering such a bold move, but the Great Ones ignored that intimidation entirely. For the very first time, Odin made his appearance and engaged in his initial documented fight.

The various races held no knowledge whatsoever about Odin. To them, he existed only as an age-old myth, a long-forgotten tale passed down by elders and ancient artifacts from eras long gone.

Every detail concerning him remained shrouded in mystery. He had been assigned the very bottom position among the Seven Supreme Powers as a rare exception, with nobody understanding the full scope of his powers or his actual capabilities.

Yet now, the world had caught a brief look... a hint of the true horror that the creature dubbed the Pale Devastation represented.

Odin's inaugural recorded clash pitted him directly against Demon King Agaroth. Though their brutal encounter concluded without a clear victor, Odin held his ground evenly against the Demon King and even gained the upper hand during significant stretches of the fight.

This revelation alone sent shockwaves through everything. Ever since Nameless, no individual had managed to stand toe-to-toe with Agaroth.

Odin's remarkable accomplishment compelled the overseers of the Seven Supreme Powers' rankings to thoroughly reassess his standing.

Boasting power sufficient to directly challenge the Demon King, along with complete command over every Great One such that all bent to his desires, Odin was now viewed as a catastrophe rivaling the Demon King in scale. The Great Ones ascended to a threat of indeterminate severity, possibly surpassing even the demons in peril.

In consequence, the hierarchy of the Seven Supreme Powers underwent a total overhaul. Midir was dethroned from the top rank, and Odin was formally proclaimed the supreme among them, marking him as merely the third entity in all history to attain that status after Pure Vessel and Midir.

The Helmond incursion caused widespread devastation across a huge swath of the Demon Planet, claiming the lives of at least hundreds of millions of demons.

The intense battle completely altered Helmond's physical features, and amid the duel between the Demon King and the Great Ones' overlord, one Duke of Hell met his end. The First Demon, Manus, turned up dead amid enigmatic conditions.

Manus represented a singular entity. He served as the primordial demon, a force that once wreaked havoc throughout the cosmos.

However, in ancient times, he fully retreated from the fray and slipped into dormancy, never again stepping beyond Helmond's borders.

His once-mighty strength had faded dramatically, as every demon spawned from him and steadily drained fragments of his vitality over the course of his existence.

Consequently, he turned immobile and voiceless, refusing to communicate with anyone, much like a frail elder gripped by senility who had forfeited both reason and recollection.

In reverence for his storied past, the demons continued to show him deference and awarded him the esteemed title of Duke of Hell, though it wasn't an overstatement to declare Manus the frailest of the reigning Dukes. When measured against titans such as Gael, the Father of the Abyss, or the inscrutable Maskeith, his power seemed pathetically diminished.

This circumstance alone ignited countless queries regarding his selection as a target and the Great Ones' motive for ensuring his demise.

The Demon King offered no commentary on the issue, yet it was evident he harbored insight into the Great Ones' authentic intent.

Their singular aim boiled down to one thing: restoring their sovereign, Odin, to the tangible realm. Achieving this demanded Manus's death... no other rationale fit.

While the demons endured severe setbacks, the Great Ones absorbed a crushing defeat too. From the fifty Great Ones that stormed Helmond, Agaroth eliminated forty-one, with just nine surviving.

The overall count of Great Ones hovered just above a hundred, making it no hyperbole to state that the Demon King had personally eradicated almost half their species single-handedly.

Relative to the loss of tens of millions of lesser demons, the annihilation of forty-one Great Ones—each an elite SSS-class powerhouse—carried far graver consequences.

Given these outcomes, discerning if the Helmond assault triumphed or floundered proved utterly impossible.

This episode transpired mere days following the turmoil on Earth, signaling that the world had plunged into a turbulent period of change.

It merits mention that, for all their impressive accomplishments, entities like Saint German were consistently omitted from the Seven Supreme Powers. The reason lay in how Nameless and his peculiar following were regarded equivalently to the Demon King and his exalted council.

As such, neither Nameless nor any of his devotees ever counted among the Seven.

One day bled into the next, and the era of conflict formally reignited... across the Uncharted Continent, gathering place for the universe's colossal figures, and upon Earth, where the climactic showdown loomed ever closer.

Sixty-seven days persisted until the Shattering.

...

...

...

Back on Earth, within the Ultras Continent, the War of Darkness had formally concluded. The strife pitting the Empire against the Ultras wrapped up, yielding an outcome akin to a tie or a shared downfall.

At present, the ongoing turmoil stemmed wholly from outside influences.

The Ultras now yielded to the authority of High-Ranking Demons arriving in waves, as the Empire lay in total ruin, consigning humanity to the Shadow Sect's dominion.

The decisive clash delivered a resounding win for the Shadow Sect. They dispatched three High-Ranking Demons, retrieved Abraham Starlight, and moreover freed a creature that served as a natural foe to the demons.

To date, the Shadow Sect, guided by Gehrman, maintained dominance, pressuring the demon faction to act without delay.

Following Wesker's demise, the eleventh-placed Amon seized unchallenged control over both the demons and the entire Ultras populace.

Flanking him were the ninth-ranked Nito, the third-ranked Vayne, and several additional demons who had shown up subsequently…

This latest contingent included one of the most abhorrent demons alive—a dread-inducing abomination designated for the unfolding war.

The instant he stepped forth from the warp gate, the Ultras Continent's very air grew heavy. His aura choked the breath from all, laced with a murderous pressure never before sensed.

Amon stood ready to welcome him personally, joined by an Ultras entourage. One could say that all humans nearby blacked out the moment they encountered his essence.

He manifested as a thick, shadowy form, less a living thing and more an embodiment of obscurity. His physique resembled a tangled heap of overlapping gloom and inky blackness. The sole distinguishing feature was his facial mask... ghostly pale, marked by three shadowy pits serving as his eyes.

Devoid of mouth or nostrils—possessing only those vacant sockets—his radiating killing intent dwarfed that of everyone around, attesting to the vast legions of lives he had claimed.

The slayer... Helmond's most notorious executioner—one among the Dukes of Hell.

Vex.

"I see you're still a brute who can't even rein in his killing intent," Amon remarked coolly, his hands folded behind him, his features concealed under a mask, as he admonished his counterpart Duke of Hell.

Vex had long earned his reputation as Helmond's premier assassin... a repulsive presence Amon had always held in contempt. But the killer paid it no mind.

"Stop spouting nonsense and give me a name," Vex answered without emotion.

His words came out softly, hardly perceptible—like a vexing metallic grind that clawed at the listeners' ears.

"I don't have a name. I have names. But since you're so eager to begin your work, bring me the head of Saint Gehrman."

Amon supplied the target, and that sufficed for Vex entirely.

In a flash, he dissolved into the soil, fading away amid its myriad fissures, slipping through them akin to a shadow pursuing its caster.

As soon as Vex vanished, Amon released a frustrated exhale.

"I hope he dies this time."

Amon's loathing for Vex ran deep—not simply due to his alignment with the Dukes of Hell, rivals to the High Seats, but from something much more profound.

He detested him on a fundamental level and offered no admiration for him as a combatant.

Amon honored raw power above all. He held utter disdain for stealthy killers like Vex—those who struck foes from the darkness.

That ominous beast had, in bygone days, felled adversaries vastly superior to himself through sheer assassin prowess and fatal techniques.

As Amon fixed his gaze on the spot of Vex's departure, Vayne came up from behind.