THE VILLAIN'S POV Chapter 707: The Trial of Blood and Betrayal (1)

In a desolate, forgotten corner of the Ultras continent, a strange gathering was underway. A line of demons and legendary Ultras figures stood in perfect formation behind Wesker, who remained at the head of the procession.

Standing right beside him was Rank 13 Geppetto, accompanied by Beatrice and several other high-profile individuals.

"He’s here."

Wesker wore his signature venomous grin as he looked toward the horizon. Moments later, a massive pillar of darkness plummeted from the sky, the impact vibrating through the earth with violent intensity.

The dark beam struck the ground with incredible velocity and crushing force. Its arrival triggered a tidal wave of aura so powerful it ravaged the surrounding terrain—the approaching entity clearly felt no need to mask their presence.

A demon emerged from the swirling veil of shadows, walking toward Wesker, who greeted him with that same wicked smile.

The demon’s appearance was familiar: four horns, a scarred and twisted face, sunken violet eyes, and a trailing cape of black aura.

However, there was a difference this time...

He was outfitted in a terrifying set of black armor that encased most of his frame, giving him an even more formidable and relentless appearance.

As he arrived, nearly everyone in attendance bowed to show their respect—everyone except for Wesker.

"We welcome the Tenth Seat... the One-Man Army, Zibar."

It was indeed Zibar of Rank Ten, just as expected. But this was no mere clone.

This was the true Zibar in his original physical form, protected by the legendary Katarina Armor.

The contrast was night and day. The atmosphere grew heavy, weighed down by the suffocating pressure of his authentic aura.

His presence differed greatly from Wesker’s. Although the Fourth Seat was more powerful, Wesker usually kept his aura suppressed. In contrast, Zibar allowed his power to overflow and saturate the air.

"You certainly took your time, Zibar. Was the situation up there truly that difficult?"

Wesker’s question was laced with hidden mockery.

Zibar remained unfazed by the tone, responding with a calm demeanor.

"You are well aware of how messy things have become. My role in the army is vital... I cannot afford to be away for long."

He tightened his fist, his piercing gaze narrowing as he looked at Wesker.

"Let’s conclude this swiftly. The war against the Great Ones has already commenced."

There was a sense of urgency in his voice, a demand for Wesker to accelerate their plans on Earth.

Even as they spoke, the First Seat Crimson, along with Rank Two Aagares and Rank Five Marvas, were locked in combat with a faction of the Great Ones. They were joined by forces from other dominant powers, such as the Pantheon.

The mysterious territory that had appeared in the deep reaches of space had captured the attention of every apex being. Every faction was now scrambled to claim it, hoping to unravel its mysteries and seize its power.

Zibar, possessing the Reincarnation Spirit ability, served as a vital general who could deploy entire legions consisting of his own clones.

"Don't be concerned. I plan to wrap this up very shortly."

Wesker shut his eyes briefly before reopening only the King’s Eye.

His most potent ability had finally refreshed after the cooldown period triggered during his battle with Frey and Snow. It was clear that the Fourth Seat had regained nearly all of his peak strength.

Wesker had engaged Frey and Snow, defeating them both. He had then faced Adir of the Shadow Sect and emerged victorious once more. Remarkably, he hadn't suffered a single injury, aside from the temporary exhaustion of the King’s Eye.

This fact alone highlighted the terrifying chasm of power between Rank Four and those below.

And now... Rank Ten had joined the fray.

But the surprises didn't end there.

As Zibar conversed with Wesker while the others remained bowed, it seemed as though they were the only two worthy of standing there. Even Geppetto appeared minor in their shadow.

That was what Zibar assumed, until his eyes widened with sudden alarm.

He felt an aura—pure and overwhelming—that collided with his own and proceeded to crush it.

It was a radiant, flamboyant aura, the polar opposite of his dark energy.

Zibar immediately raised his fist, spinning toward the source and preparing for a fight, but Wesker gestured for him to stop, indicating there was no threat.

A man stepped into the clearing at that moment.

He was dressed in a simple black robe draped over ancient, battered black armor.

His hair was long and dark, and his eyes were hollow pits of shadow. Though his appearance was disheveled, the pressure he radiated was undeniable.

Zibar watched as the man walked past Wesker and headed straight for Geppetto, realizing then that this newcomer was an ally.

Still, he couldn't hide his shock.

"Where did you find this monster?"

Zibar asked with genuine disbelief, while Wesker chuckled, clearly enjoying the reaction.

"Impressive, isn’t it? This is Abraham Starlight... the father of Frey Starlight. He is the man I battled years ago."

Upon hearing the name, Zibar began to piece the puzzle together.

He had heard rumors that Wesker had once struggled against a human, but he had never actually believed it. In his mind, no human could possibly pose a threat to the Upper Ten.

Zibar had always assumed the person who managed to wound Wesker in the past was the Shadow Sect warrior... Gehrman the Engineer.

But seeing Abraham in person shattered that assumption.

"This man... he is more powerful than I am," Zibar confessed.

He looked toward Geppetto, who was already laughing, unable to hide his delight.

"You’re telling me this monster fell into Geppetto’s hands?"

Wesker gave a nod.

"That is correct."

Zibar’s face clouded over.

If Geppetto took control of that body, he could potentially challenge the Upper Ranks and seize a top seat for himself.

Sensing Zibar’s anxiety, Wesker placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"There is no need for worry. Amon will not permit it... even if he tries."

Wesker whispered those final words through a thin veil of aura, ensuring only Zibar could hear.

The mention of Amon’s name silenced Zibar immediately. He knew Wesker was right.

Amon... the Eleventh Seat. The Nightmare Host.

He held the rank of Eleven, yet his name inspired a dread that made even the strongest demons cautious.

The reason was quite simple.

Thinking of the masked demon, Zibar let out a sigh.

Amon, the demon known as the Joker, was anything but ordinary. While he was ranked Eleventh, that number was no reflection of his actual power. The true reason he occupied that rank was that he acted as the gatekeeper, personally testing anyone who tried to enter the Top Ten.