THE VILLAIN'S POV Chapter 715: The Battle of Father and Son (2)
Previously on THE VILLAIN'S POV...
Capítulo 715: The Battle of Father and Son (2)
In this very moment...
Frey stood prepared to shatter his father’s physical form.
That realization brought an agonizing, soul-crushing grief to Frey, who was witnessing his father in the flesh for the first time—not as a fading memory or a still image, but as a living being of blood and bone.
Frey endured his torment in silence, his knuckles whitening as his grip on his blade tightened.
A scorching heat surged in his chest, accompanied by a bitterness so profound he felt the urge to shriek, yet he forced every emotion back down.
Opposite him, Zibar strode forward with heavy, echoing footsteps, his face twisted in a grin.
“What is the matter? Are you holding a conversation with your father’s corpse? Ahahahaha!!”
Zibar’s mocking laughter rang out across the field.
“Snap out of it, Frey Starlight. That creature is nothing more than a slaughtering tool designed for your execution. Your father is nowhere to be found. He has been purged of those miserable human sentiments that once made him fragile. In this state, he is a vastly superior combatant! Even if he is merely a hound following commands now.”
Those insults triggered something deep within.
Frey vanished instantly, reappearing directly before Zibar to launch an assault fueled by raw, uncontrolled rage.
The Dark Sister slammed into Katarina’s Blade with violent force, the collision birthing a ferocious tempest of aura.
“Zibar… mark my words. You shall NOT walk away from this battlefield alive today…”
BOOOOOOM!!!
Their respective auras erupted in a massive explosion as each warrior attempted to crush the other under the weight of their power.
“I possess the sight to see the future, Zibar… and the vision before me now is nothing but your rotting carcass, you filthy demon!!!”
SLAAAAASH!!!
Moving with blinding velocity, Frey’s blade slipped past Katarina’s defense and bit deep into the center of the armor with savage intent.
Zibar retaliated immediately, but Frey used teleportation to evade the counterattack.
The moment he repositioned, Abraham manifested again, renewing his assault.
A high-speed, lethal duel commenced between the two—their swords clashing so rapidly that shockwaves of ruin rippled outward across the terrain.
Midway through the exchange, Abraham materialized a second blade composed of radiant light in his off-hand. Dual-wielding now, the former Starlight genius doubled his offensive output, completely suppressing Frey.
Abraham’s prowess as a swordsman was nothing short of terrifying.
Lacerations began to open across Frey’s skin one after another. Within moments, Abraham gained the upper hand, landing a sudden, forceful kick that caught Frey off guard and sent him tumbling backward.
Capitalizing on the opening, Zibar manifested behind the mid-air Frey and unhinged his jaw.
From his maw, Zibar discharged a colossal beam of aura that rent the fabric of space, obliterating everything in its trajectory before detonating in the distance.
This was among Zibar’s most lethal techniques—a concentrated aura bomb ignited within his own frame to be expelled through his mouth.
Yet, Frey remained unharmed.
In an incredible display of skill, he had switched his position with Abraham, forcing the latter to endure the brunt of the blast.
Frey stood exactly where Abraham had been moments before, completely untouched.
As for Abraham, he emerged staggering from the heart of Zibar’s explosion. Despite taking the hit directly, he had managed to defend himself, proving his legendary resilience.
“Tch… this irritating technique… that brat has acquired a troublesome power.”
Zibar hissed before charging at Frey once more. Abraham moved in tandem, the two of them closing in to pin him down.
Frey persisted in warping space, rapidly swapping his location with his foes to survive the onslaught of both adversaries with marvelous precision.
Zibar, in particular, grew visibly frustrated by the tactic.
“His movements are impossible to read. Sometimes he rotates all three of us, and other times he simply teleports alone…”
Given the extreme velocity of the three combatants, these maneuvers only bought Frey a few seconds of breathing room.
However, those fleeting moments were enough to maintain the stalemate.
The conflict grew more desperate with every swing, every step, and every impact.
The trio traded a staggering number of blows, leaving behind three chaotic wakes of aura that coiled and vied for dominance across the ruins.
During the chaos, Frey felt his mind burning under the immense mental strain.
He was forced to maintain absolute control over the entire battlefield just to stay alive against Zibar and Abraham—two SSS-rank warriors who had reached the pinnacle of their Cultivation.
“Keep your fury in check. Do not permit your heart to lead you. A single error... just one, and the end is certain.”
Nameless provided his warning, continuing to direct Frey through the frantic struggle.
Yet, despite his own counsel, Nameless found himself acting in a way that defied his nature.
As the fight dragged on...
the behavior of the masked king became increasingly erratic.
“This is strange… why am I feeling this level of wrath?”
Nameless wondered, unsettled by his own state of mind.
He had been instructing Frey to discard his anger, yet he was becoming consumed by a mirroring rage that echoed Frey’s own heart.
“These feelings… they act like a toxin. They are infiltrating my being… obscuring my vision… destroying my equilibrium…”
Deep within the mental landscape of Frey’s consciousness...
Nameless tightened his fist as he observed the unfolding carnage.
Nameless was missing vital parts of his soul—pieces of his history and his very self.
What endured was merely a single shard.
A shard that should have been a blank slate, yet was now being stained by the essence of Frey Starlight.
“Why does my anger flare when his does? Why do I feel sorrow when he mourns? Why does his suffering manifest as pain within me…?”
Earlier, witnessing the desecration of Abraham had driven him into a state of madness—
as if Abraham were his own father, rather than Frey’s.
Nameless felt a wave of self-loathing.
He felt himself sinking further into the dark well that was Frey Starlight’s existence.
As a mere observer bound to this mind, he spat out a curse.
“I cannot comprehend this… You possess my techniques. You hold my power.
These are your enemies... these are the monsters who violated your father.
So why are they still breathing?
Why… are you acting so pathetic?”
Nameless demanded, while Frey continued to falter against the combined might of Zibar and his father.
Holding his ground against two SSS-rank masters was a feat bordering on the divine, but through the perspective of Nameless, it was nothing but failure.
Frey was not meant to just survive.
He was meant to slaughter them, crush them, and wipe them from the face of the world.
That is what Nameless would have achieved had he been the one in control.
However, the masked king stood firm in his refusal to seize Frey Starlight’s body again.
“His influence has penetrated this deeply without me even taking the reins…
What would happen if I truly stepped in?”
With that thought...
Nameless realized there would be no turning back.
“This is your war… not mine.”
This struggle belonged to Frey Starlight alone.
“So cease this hesitation...
and end them!!”
Nameless bellowed within Frey’s mind, driving him to push past his limits.
Meanwhile, the engagement reached its zenith.
Zibar and Abraham unleashed wide-range strikes saturated with catastrophic power—
attacks so overwhelming that Frey buckled under the sheer weight of the pressure.
The situation appeared utterly bleak.
Furthermore, Geppetto had not yet entered the fray.
Though he was less powerful than the other two, his interference would surely be the final nail in Frey’s coffin.
Fortunately, he remained stationary for now.
Geppetto was a predator of opportunity.
His gaze was fixed on Ada Starlight, who lay slumped on the ground, blood staining her brow from the impact of being cast aside at the start of the duel.
Geppetto understood perfectly the leverage that girl provided over Frey.
He began to walk toward her, intending to claim his prize.
“You will serve as an excellent tool to break that monster.”
Geppetto smirked as he reached out for Ada, but his fingers met an invisible wall.
An artifact clutched between Ada’s fingers began to radiate a brilliant light...
projecting a formidable aura barrier that encased her entirely, preventing Geppetto from coming near.
The rank-13 demon stared in confusion.
He struck out immediately, trying to shatter the protective dome...
but his blows did absolutely nothing.
That aura was peculiar…
and unnaturally potent.
It shielded Ada with a fierce intensity, denying the demon's touch...
as if someone had sacrificed their very life force into that artifact for this specific moment.
Frey, of course, sensed what had occurred.
Because of that, he felt a small spark of relief amidst the carnage...
knowing his sister was safe from the enemy’s grasp.
Geppetto’s time would come.
But first...
Zibar and Abraham had to fall.
With renewed resolve, Frey channeled every bit of his concentration into his primary foes, fighting with every fiber of his being.
Between Frey’s desperate struggle...
and the internal storm within Nameless...
the battle ascended to a terrifying peak...
a collision that promised a level of devastation never before witnessed.