THE VILLAIN'S POV Chapter 776 The Devil Who Refused to Die

"Are you certain? It's reckless to dispatch him solo against the Shadow Sect," Vayne remarked with a subtle smile, while Amon shook his head.

"No worries. Though I wish that vile beast would perish, his talents are formidable. Should he fail, his prowess will ensure his survival."

"Hmm... I hope you're correct," Vayne responded, causing Amon to face her.

"What's bothering you, Vayne? It's unlike you to question my choices."

Vayne resembled a fierce predator acting on her whims. She had never attempted to meddle in the decisions of her superiors, sparking Amon's intrigue.

Yet she promptly shook her head.

"Nothing at all. I simply yearn to obliterate the Shadow Sect and their human allies without delay."

"No hurry is needed. I understand the shame from your loss to Fulghor stings, but revenge will come in time."

Vayne nodded in agreement.

"Naturally."

Her composed, brief answer led Amon to gaze at her briefly before looking elsewhere.

"Get ready. The ultimate clash approaches."

Amon departed, and Vayne's grin broadened.

"Indeed... this round, we'll conclude it all. This time, I'll secure it without fail," Vayne whispered, her violet gaze shimmering with a subtle crimson hue.

"Frey Starlight... you hold the key."

She tightened her fist, steadily reining in her feelings.

Gradually, she shut her eyes, allowing her form to merge into the shadows.

Mere moments passed before the view transformed entirely... to a different location, a shadowy and foreboding domain.

Surrounded by walls of obscurity and a malevolent dark energy, the area evoked an inaccessible ethereal realm.

In the heart of that gloom sat Vayne.

Suspended in mid-air, her figure was entwined by shadowy vines turned into restraints, encasing her fully within a pitch-black pod.

Inside that void, Vayne remained powerless, her eyelids shut, a pained look on her features—as though all was lost to her.

Facing her was yet another repulsive fiend, cloaked in darkness.

He observed her for many extended moments, a wicked smirk forming on his lips.

A fiend bearing three eyes, one a profound scarlet... the King's Eye.

None other than Wesker.

He suppressed a chuckle prior to uttering.

"I am genuinely apologetic, my beloved sister... forgive me for selecting you as my ultimate experiment. Yet I had no alternative—my form had hit its threshold, leaving me no route to endure."

Wesker extended his hand, caressing his sibling as she rested in profound sleep.

"However, I triumphed. And that's the crucial part."

The concluding phase. The ultimate element to fulfill his aim.

"Gehrman utterly outmatched me. That stood as the supreme disgrace in my life..."

Shadows consumed Wesker's frame as he started wielding his fresh might.

"Yet I persist... signifying the conflict endures."

"A renewed opportunity has been granted—courtesy of the Life and Death force I devised on my own!"

Even after his downfall to Gehrman and nearing oblivion, Wesker rejoiced... for he had at last forged his personal world-shattering power.

Up to this point, the King's Eye remained his sole World-Breaking Ability, bestowed by the Demon King.

Over endless eras, Wesker labored to craft his unique strength—

a force aligned with the Law of Life and Death.

It originated long ago, when Wesker grasped that regardless of his genius, regardless of his alarming advancement...

He could never attain the stature of that flawless entity.

The beast that captivated him...

The mighty Demon King, Agaroth.

Bearing his inherent rank and immense promise...

even Crimson was beyond Wesker's grasp, much less Agaroth.

Wesker—the cruel idealist devoted to dominance—refused to tolerate this.

Yet no route existed to elevate him to their heights.

That shifted on the day a particular figure emerged... a fighter capable of challenging the Demon King.

Nameless.

At that instant, a deranged notion sparked within Wesker.

What if... by some means... he could seize the form of a titan like Nameless?

Then his unattainable dream might materialize.

Since Nameless's debut, Wesker set about building a force to claim that fighter's body.

Despite his cruel tendencies, torment wasn't his sole intent.

True, he relished it—but above all...

Wesker delved into the Law of Life and Death.

Via every variety of creature, every mode of being, he aimed to comprehend it profoundly to command it.

But his drive faced a crushing setback when Nameless fell to Agaroth... prior to Wesker finalizing his power.

Following Nameless's demise, Wesker wandered aimlessly for a spell...

though he never ceased chasing Life and Death.

Initially, he even pondered targeting Agaroth as his prize...

but he swiftly discarded that deranged plan.

The Demon King comprehended far too much already.

Opposing him spelled certain doom.

Thus, Wesker bided his time.

For ages.

Quietly.

Awaiting the ideal container... a form to realize his supreme objective.

Across the epochs, myriad mighty combatants arose.

Myths emerged. Renown was inscribed in annals.

But none achieved the caliber Wesker craved...

Until the instant the King's Eye beheld the inconceivable.

The moment Frey Starlight entered the world.

A youth whose path was so convoluted that even the creator and architect of the cosmos...

even the entity who molded the Demon King...

had linked Frey to it.

Yet what truly drew Wesker's focus

was Frey Starlight's fate intertwining with Nameless.

That fact alone propelled Wesker to Earth at once... even breaching Kazis Valerion's barrier at immense expense.

Subsequently, post the clash with Gehrman and Abraham, Wesker uncovered the reality:

Frey Starlight served as Nameless's ideal host.

A physique harboring every ounce of Nameless's dormant capability.

And at that juncture...

Optimism surged back to the Fourth High Demon.

That explained why Wesker monitored Frey across these years.

Why he permitted his growth in strength.

Not for liberating the Demon King from confinement—

But to enable Frey to hit his zenith.

So that, at the appointed hour...

Wesker might seize him.

After innumerable years, victory was his.

Life and Death ability... Possession.

A force enabling him to inhabit another's body while preserving his potency.

It stemmed from decades of unyielding inquiry and trials by Wesker's warped brilliance.

He had shaped a tool of utter terror.

His Possession proved so potent that those lacking defenses against it or command over Life and Death could not defy it.

The power also failed on entities at SSS's ultimate phase,

as that condition wove in Life and Death intrinsically.

But beyond them...

Wesker wielded his might unbound.

He had trialed it already—on Prince Aegon Valerion.

Regarding Vayne, she hadn't featured in the initial scheme...

But events compelled his action.

And his triumphant mastery over such a fearsome entity merely confirmed his power's perfection.

And the subsequent mark...

Frey Starlight.

The flawless host.

The physique to propel him to the heights he envisioned lifelong.

This formed Wesker's grandest ambition—

the motive for every deed of his.

Upon attaining it...

Gehrman.

The Shadow Sect.

And any who blocked his path...

All would vanish.

As Wesker's cackle resounded in the shadowy abyss,

before his sibling Vayne, adrift in nothingness...

The Fourth High Demon hid away... Awaiting the ideal instant.