THE VILLAIN'S POV Chapter 699: Starlight

Deep within the territories of the Empire, specifically inside the borders of the Starlight Province...

A devastating conflict erupted between a trio of ancient heroes and a nightmare reborn from the annals of history.

Abraham Starlight, the unparalleled genius of House Starlight, had transformed into a cold-blooded killing machine.

He was a manifestation of light and slaughter, possessing speed and physical might that surpassed all logic. His Cultivation had reached a tier far beyond the three legends, leaving Nova Starlight—the progenitor of the Star Dust Technique—in a state of sheer shock.

"I never... in my wildest dreams did I think my own secret art could be utilized in such a manner."

Just the thought of mimicking that level of finesse caused Nova’s mind to reel; the act of controlling Ignition should have been an impossible feat for any living soul.

"Your bloodline has paved the way for our total destruction, Nova," spat Inver Sunlight, his form wreathed in celestial fire. "If this continues, our end will be nothing short of pathetic."

With a thunderous cry, he summoned the scorching power of Ilios—the Eternal Flame itself.

"To be struck down by his blade the moment we break free from our seals... it is a disgrace..."

A low, guttural laugh escaped him as his aura flared violently.

"A disgrace I refuse to accept! Eternal Flame — Ilios State: Dusk of the Solar Mass!"

As Nova and Avalon engaged Abraham in a direct struggle, Inver leaped back to concentrate his essence.

His flames shifted from blue to a deep violet, burning with the intensity of a collapsing star. He launched the miniature sun toward Abraham, intending to erase everything in its path.

The resulting detonation shook the firmament.

Tides of violet fire consumed the terrain, liquefying the very earth beneath them.

Nova and Avalon were forced to retreat to escape the searing heat.

"Surely that must have left a mark..."

But their optimism was misplaced.

Walking through the heart of the inferno, Abraham appeared. He moved with a calm grace, his stellar aura manifesting a shield that completely repelled the Eternal Flame.

"How irritating..." Inver hissed, his expression darkening.

"Never have I encountered a human of this caliber... both terrifying and awe-inspiring... yet he stands on the side of our foes."

The true depth of his power remained a mystery, but his mere presence brought back the dread of the most powerful demons from the ancient past.

In those brief seconds, Nova’s thoughts raced with desperate speed.

"I have reached the peak of SSS-Stage Two... and Inver and Avalon are at a similar level. Even with our combined strength, we cannot bring him to his knees."

This realization pointed toward a singular, grim reality.

"He is at Stage Four... or at the very least, the pinnacle of Stage Three."

If that were the case, Abraham’s combat power was equal to that of Zibar, a High Demon. Furthermore, with his World-Breaking Ability, his body—now composed entirely of Aura—processed power with a mechanical, inhuman perfection.

A cold shiver ran through Nova’s spirit.

"It pains me to say it... but a head-on victory is impossible. To win, we would have to offer up our lives... and even then, success isn't guaranteed."

Inver’s gaze sharpened. The tactic Nova alluded to was Ignition—the act of burning one’s life force for a fleeting moment of divine power. However, even if Nova took that path, he would still fall short of Abraham, who had mastered Ignition through his Absolute Manipulator trait.

Despite the odds, Nova’s will solidified. The time for doubt had passed.

"Let us finish this."

He released the entirety of his hidden reserves.

At that moment, the Star Dust Technique radiated in its most perfect form. Nova hoisted his sword, which shone as brightly as a sun brought down to the world.

"Now! Strike with everything you possess!"

The three legends launched a synchronized assault.

"Star Dust Technique — Ultimate Art: Stellar Tempest!" "Eternal Flame — Ilios: Infinite Inferno!" "Light Formation — Ultimate Art: Dawn Severance!"

Their unified strike blotted out the horizon, three peak techniques merging into a single, world-ending disaster.

Abraham did not flinch, charging straight into the center of the storm. Star Aura, Flame Aura, and Light Aura combined to swallow his form whole.

His survival instincts screamed. Crossing his twin blades, he summoned a deluge of starlight that wrapped around him like a cocoon. Then, with a flash that tore through the clouds, his aura compressed into a massive, glowing orb—a literal living star.

Nova stood frozen, his eyes bulging in his head.

"That... that is the Star Dust Technique... but it does not belong to my lineage."

This was a brand-new evolution—a technique Abraham had forged himself, reminiscent of how Frey Starlight once created Nameless Judgement.

Shielded within his blazing sphere, Abraham met the trio’s combined finale. The impact pulverized the landscape, and the fabric of space groaned under the sheer pressure. When the dust finally settled, a white dome remained—a star-shaped shell of light that stood defiant against the ruin.

Inside the barrier, Abraham Starlight remained standing.

There he was, completely unharmed. Not a scratch could be found on his person, and even the patch of dirt beneath him was preserved. His aura was suffocating and monstrous.

Slowly, Abraham dissolved the radiant star, ending his perfect defense. It was undeniable—the fight had concluded. The collective power of three ancient legends hadn't even managed to draw blood. They were fundamentally incapable of defeating him.

While Abraham emerged untouched, he quickly grasped his enemies' true intent. Nova Starlight had realized early on that they couldn't win. In that desperate moment, he had opted for the only viable path: escape.

The battlefield fell into a heavy silence. Abraham stood in the center of the destruction, alone. They had fled at the final moment, using the blinding light of their joint attack as a smokescreen while he was focused on defending. Had he chosen to counter-attack instead, they likely would have died, but they bet everything on his instinct to protect himself.

They had gambled correctly. Even so, Abraham did not intend to let them flee. He pushed his aura out for miles, scanning for any lingering ripple of their presence...

Ultimately, he found nothing. They had vanished without a trace, suggesting one of them possessed a high-level teleportation skill. As they disappeared from his range, Abraham’s senses cooled, and his aura retracted into his body.

He stood amidst the wreckage in solitude. He had claimed victory, yet his targets had survived. There was nothing left but to depart... and wait for the next conflict where he would be deployed.

...

...

...

Far from the Empire's reach, hidden within the Shadow Sect that protected the war's remaining refugees...

A pair of eyes slowly flickered open. Frey Starlight had returned to consciousness.

He had made a full recovery, moving past the soul-crushing fatigue of pushing the Nameless powers to their breaking point. Upon waking, he found himself within the Shadow Sect’s temple. The atmosphere was ghostly quiet; the others had dispersed to handle the fallout of the recent disaster.

Only Uriel remained by his side. She had clearly spent herself stabilizing his Meridians and healing his wounds following the clash with Wesker. To save him, she had maintained her golden angelic form for far too long, leaving her utterly exhausted. She now lay in a deep slumber next to him.

Observing her, Frey rose silently. He draped his cloak over her small frame to keep her warm before stepping out of the room. A dull ache throbbed in his head, but his focus returned instantly. One specific thought drowned out all others:

"Ada..."

His sister's name was still flashing red on his system display— a clear sign she was in mortal peril. Frey prepared to leave immediately, ignoring his own condition, until a sudden movement stopped him.

In the shadows of the temple corridor, a crimson butterfly fluttered quietly. It shed sparkling red dust as it looped around him, beckoning him to follow. He recognized the creature instantly; it belonged to the mysterious figure who had rescued him previously.

Without a word, he followed the trail. The butterfly led him through the dark architecture to a concealed path, ending at a forgotten sector on the peak of the black mountain where the Sect resided.

"Where are you leading me?" Frey whispered, his hand on his weapon, though he was driven by curiosity.

The butterfly suddenly stopped in mid-air. Its wings dissolved into a shower of glowing red embers. From that light, a silhouette began to manifest—a woman who projected an air of profound serenity.

Her form solidified into a woman in her late twenties, dressed in a flowing crimson gown. She was strikingly beautiful, with eyes like rubies and hair like flowing silk, possessing an aura that felt hauntingly familiar. Though they had never met, Frey felt a strange tug of recognition in his heart.

Standing before him, the woman offered a faint, tired smile.

"At long last... we meet. After so many years of waiting." Her voice was laced with a gentle melancholy, the sound of a long-suffering soul.

"Who are you?" Frey demanded, cutting through her sentimentality to get to the truth.

"I am Audrey. Does that name mean anything to you?"

Frey’s pupils dilated. He knew that name—but from a completely different context. Audrey. She was one of the primary heroines of the story, a powerhouse whose strength at her peak rivaled that of Snow. He had written her character once... but he never expected to encounter her in person.

However, this Audrey was a far cry from the legends. She didn't look like the indomitable warrior who had slaughtered demons and challenged the heavens. Her gaze was soft and filled with grief. She appeared more like a fragile, kind-hearted girl than a legendary combatant.

"This... I don't understand," Frey muttered, his mind spinning.

Instinctively, he released a small pulse of aura to test her presence. That was when the truth became clear.

"With your current power, you can see it, Frey. You aren't slow... you can perceive that this is merely a projection, a tiny shard of my consciousness."

Audrey spoke calmly as she took a step toward him.

"So this is not your actual body..."

"It is not," she replied softly.

The figure before him was nothing more than a temporary ghost—a butterfly that had escaped from Helmund, carrying a sliver of her mind. Her physical self had no knowledge of this encounter. In reality, the true Audrey was a broken shell, trapped in a cycle of eternal agony, used by the demon race as a living battery for Aura. Thousands of years of torture had shattered her spirit.

This single fragment... this butterfly... was the only piece left of the woman once revered as the Crimson Saint.