THE VILLAIN'S POV Chapter 694: Nameless Paths

She was lost to them, despite her SSS-rank status.

Now, Adyr was on the verge of being lost as well.

In the conflicts to come, a combatant of Adyr’s caliber was indispensable.

Frey would not permit such a loss.

Expanding the spatial formation, he moved to encompass Adyr within its reach.

"You’re coming with me. No matter what it takes."

Adyr evaporated into the formation, rescued.

Frey was left standing alone amidst a landscape of shadows and carrion.

Crimson liquid leaked from beneath his mask.

The sheer strain of sustaining his ability was shattering his body.

Yet, the lingering essence of that scarlet butterfly—the warmth she had bestowed upon him—remained the sole reason he kept his feet.

Wesker materialized in a flash, his hand lunging forward to shred him apart...

But before the strike could connect, Frey discharged a violent surge of violet spatial energy, repelling Wesker and warping the surrounding dimensions.

"Wesker... no. Aegon."

Frey’s voice vibrated with rage as violet light danced within his pupils.

"No more schemes from the shadows. I see you clearly this time. You stand before me... You are my enemy."

"From this point forward... This is a war between humans and demons. Between me and you."

"Only one of us will walk away alive."

The space encircling Frey began to contort.

"Whether it’s me... or Nameless himself... You will die on this earth. The same earth you toyed with for years—the same earth whose people you spat on."

"Know this, Wesker... here, before your wretched king’s eyes... YOU. WILL. FALL."

With those parting words, Frey vanished entirely.

He left behind the Ultra legions and Wesker, who drifted silently above the carnage.

The struggle between the Empire and the Ultras had concluded...

The Ultras had successfully driven the Empire from their territory.

However, they had failed to wipe them out.

This meant one thing: the war was far from its end.

The Fourth Seat had been unable to terminate the feud, a truly startling turn of events.

Nevertheless, Wesker showed no signs of frustration.

"Follower of Nameless... Gehrman taught you well."

He looked down at the pulverized remains of Adyr’s ruined vessel.

"He managed to wound me, this time."

He was aware that the ancient heroes were secreted away somewhere.

Yet, he hadn't anticipated that one of Nameless’s pillars would manifest here.

Though the world hadn't seen them for eons, their legends endured:

Number 1: Gehrman, the Perfect Vessel Number 2: Alexander Rybak, Master of Martial Arts Number 3: Fulghor, the Living Planet Number 4: Adyr, the Shadow Executor

Every one of them had disappeared... except for Gehrman.

And yet, Adyr had emerged once more, rattling the battlefield.

Furthermore, Frey and Snow had both surpassed every projection.

Wesker was no longer the sole player manipulating the board.

The Blue-Eyed One remained a terrifying variable.

"Well... this is not entirely disappointing."

Wesker made a slow descent.

Upon landing, his demonic visage dissolved, replaced by the recognizable features of Aegon Valerion.

"Everything remains within expectations."

Still wearing Aegon’s face, Wesker addressed the Ultras.

Moving forward, the war would cease to be a simple clash of infantries—it was now a direct blood-feud between humanity and demons, and their respective vassals.

In such a struggle, Gehrman’s intervention would be limited.

His vessel had already withered beyond any hope of repair, providing Wesker with a massive tactical edge.

For another monstrosity was already approaching.

Ripping through the fabric of space at a frightening velocity, Zibar was returning to the fray, clad in the Great Katarina Armor.

This time, it was his physical body, not a mere shadow.

Two Upper Demons now walked the Earth simultaneously—a historical first.

This signified that the impending battles would be more savage than anything previously witnessed.

--- ... ---

Across the globe, deep within the Eastern Nightmare Lands, the massive Shadow Sect was buzzing with a frantic energy it hadn't known in ages.

A sanctuary that had sat hollow and hushed for so long was finally teeming with people.

Because of Frey, thousands had avoided the slaughter and the fall of Caelid.

But the price was grim.

Only four thousand had survived.

Out of the 150,000 who had set out for the Empire, 146,000 were dead.

The Empire had begun the campaign with one hundred thousand troops, later joined by fifty thousand reinforcements under Aegon.

Who could have foreseen such a catastrophic decline in their numbers?

This tally didn't even include the mountain of civilians lost during the Church Massacre.

In just a few months, the conflict had claimed millions of lives, with many more balanced on the brink.

Frey was the final person to be warped into the Shadow Sect; the moment he arrived, his mind went dark.

He had driven his body far beyond its breaking point.

The Sect was heavy with silence and hopelessness.

The Empire had been stripped of nearly everything, and the state of its remaining lands was a mystery, as the demon invasion had struck there too.

But one truth was evident to all: a monumental battle had occurred.

The legends of the past had returned.

This was the turning point—the transition from one human era to the next.

The elite gathered around the unconscious Frey, while the rest of the survivors scattered through the Sect’s massive halls.

And there, waiting in the stillness, were humans who had waged war from the darkness for generations: The Readers.

Those who had once been forgotten observers now stood in quiet suspense, gazing at the fallen Frey.

A scarlet butterfly fluttered through the air, circling him delicately.

Snow was the only one capable of seeing her clearly.

He didn't drive her away; he recognized her essence.

He felt a sense of relief, even happiness, to see that a fragment of her had endured.

As he watched the butterfly rest upon Frey’s chest, his thoughts began to align.

Could it be possible? Was Frey the individual Audrey had spent her life searching for?

The realization was haunting.

He understood far less about Frey than he had assumed—his power, his heritage, his fate.

And his link to that woman.

The unknowns were vast. If mankind hoped to weather the coming apocalypse, they would need to uncover every hidden truth.

For the war that loomed now would be the most brutal of all.