THE VILLAIN'S POV Chapter 722: Shadow Sect vs the High Demons (4)

The foundations for the coming slaughter were laid as the conflict erupted into full motion.

Wesker faced off against Gehrman, while Zibar found himself confronted by Abraham Starlight.

The tides of war had turned.

The Engineer’s intervention had successfully stabilized the situation, stripping the demons of their overwhelming advantage.

If the scales were tipped now, it was the Shadow Sect that held the winning hand.

Gehrman moved without hesitation.

He lunged forward, focused entirely on the annihilation of the demonic entity standing in his path.

Wesker, the Fourth Seat.

The intensity in Gehrman’s gaze made his resolve clear.

For the first time in an age, he was capable of exerting power that rivaled his ancient prime.

This resurgence was fueled by the borrowed essence of Fulghor.

Knowing this borrowed strength was fleeting, Gehrman refused to squander even a fraction of a second.

He thrust his arm forward, and a vivid sky-blue brilliance erupted, manifesting as several revolving halos around his limb.

"The Ruler’s Hand."

His deep, resonant voice boomed as the technique materialized.

Four rotating rings—no, they were spectral clocks—encircled Gehrman’s right arm, their ticking rhythmic and unwavering.

"Shall we begin, then... Wesker?"

Gehrman flickered out of existence before the demon could process a response.

He materialized instantly in Wesker's personal space, driving a high-velocity left hook toward the demon’s jaw.

Wesker managed to throw up a desperate guard, but the sheer force, amplified by the heavy sky-blue aura, propelled him backward until he crashed violently into the dirt.

The Gehrman of today bore no resemblance to the crippled man of the past.

Wesker was about to discover the magnitude of that mistake through pure agony.

---

Elsewhere on the battlefield...

Abraham stood as a bulwark in front of his son, shielding him from harm.

"Father... I—"

With bloodshot eyes, Frey struggled to find words, but Abraham cut him off with a gesture.

"There’s no need to say anything now... we’ll have plenty of time to talk... after we kill that demon."

Pressing his palm against Frey’s chest, he released a surge of warm, luminous aura into the boy.

It was a soothing radiance that Frey had not experienced since the onset of the carnage.

Abraham’s Qi permeated his form, mending his fatigue and dulling his pain with miraculous efficiency, leaving Frey breathless at the sensation.

True to their bloodline, the similarities were striking.

Frey had never suspected his father possessed the ability to transfer his own vitality to others.

"Are you able to fight?" Abraham inquired.

Frey forced himself to his feet, swaying slightly but wearing a pained grin.

"One way or another... I can manage for a few minutes."

"Good. That’s more than enough," Abraham said, offering a small smile before pivoting toward Zibar.

Frey mirrored his father's stance.

Zibar approached with heavy, rhythmic thuds, his features twisted in a mask of fury.

He gestured with the stump of his missing limb, and in a flash...

The arm Abraham had severed earlier flew through the air, reattaching itself as if drawn by a magnetic force.

Zibar was seething.

"What the hell is this?! Aren’t you supposed to be controlling your damned corpses?! I’m talking to you, Geppetto!"

Geppetto stood some distance away, his face pale with visible distress.

"I—I don’t know! My ability revives the body, not the soul! Somehow... that man’s consciousness awakened, and I can’t override it anymore!"

He had made several frantic attempts to regain his grip on Abraham’s Dantian and mind.

Every effort had been in vain.

"You won’t be controlling me again, demon," Abraham declared, a sword of pure light coalescing in his grip.

"The moment my consciousness returned... your defeat was sealed."

"Don’t get cocky, human. Your strength is nothing before the Upper Demons," Zibar snarled.

Abraham let out a dark, low chuckle.

"It may not be enough against the strongest of your kind... But it is more than enough to kill the likes of you."

"We’ll see about that."

Consuming by rage, Zibar blurred forward at maximum speed.

Abraham pushed Frey out of the line of fire, meeting Zibar’s onslaught with his radiant blade.

"Frey! Take care of the other demon—get Ada away from him!" Abraham roared as he engaged Zibar in a brutal, high-speed exchange of blows.

Nodding firmly, Frey transformed into a streak of dark light, lunging directly at Geppetto.

The puppet-master demon shrieked in terror at the sight of Frey’s charge and immediately turned to run.

He didn't even consider making a stand.

The Rank 13 demon had never been known for physical Cultivation.

His combat effectiveness resided entirely in the thralls he manipulated.

He had gambled everything on the power of Abraham’s corpse.

It was a gamble that had backfired disastrously.

"Stay away from me!!" Geppetto howled, unleashing a barrage of aura beams toward Frey.

Frey gripped the Dark Sister tightly, flooding the blade with Black-Hole Aura, which tore through Geppetto’s projectiles as if they were mist.

"Father is incredible... he actually managed to restore my exhausted body... even if only temporarily..."

The warmth of Abraham’s energy continued to circulate through his Meridians, allowing him to exert his full strength despite his previous exhaustion.

The turn of events felt surreal to Frey; he was astonished by Gehrman’s tactical genius and his father’s miraculous return.

Though the situation was chaotic, Frey narrowed his focus to the demon in front of him.

The monster he was destined to slay.

Against the destructive potency of the Black-Hole Aura, Geppetto was utterly defenseless.

No matter what shields or spells the Rank 13 demon threw up,

Dark Sister cleaved through them all.

"This is strange... you’re a high-ranking demon... so why are you this weak?"

SLASH!!!

In a blur of motion, Frey slipped past Geppetto’s guard and lopped off the demon’s right leg.

"If only all demons were as weak as you... I would’ve ended this war ages ago."

"Damn you!! Don’t underestimate me!" Geppetto bellowed, forcing his leg back onto the stump as he threw his arms wide, a violent eruption of ashen aura bursting from his chest.

Suddenly, a thicket of aura tentacles whipped outward, tearing through the atmosphere as they converged on Frey from all angles.

He was caught in a lethal web.

Yet, before the first tendril could make contact, Frey’s sword hand moved.

A fan of afterimages followed the Dark Sister, a testament to the sheer velocity of his strikes.

An instant later, the sword spat out a wave of dark crescent arcs, mincing the tentacles into harmless dust.

Frey dismantled the assault effortlessly, then pointed his blade at Geppetto’s throat.

"You’re the bastard who dared to defile my father’s corpse. Don’t even dream of leaving this place alive."

BOOOOM!!!

Dark Sister sang as Frey discharged a colossal beam of pure Black-Hole Aura.

The torrent engulfed Geppetto in an instant, disintegrating flesh, marrow, and essence.

The bombardment continued for several heartbeats before the demon finally managed to roll aside, barely avoiding total erasure as he tumbled across the wasteland.

He was a ruinous sight—burnt, mangled, and leaking life from a dozen gashes.

He struggled to rise...

Only to find Frey already looming over him.

A split second later, the sickening crunch of metal meeting bone echoed as Dark Sister was buried in his chest.

Using his momentum, Frey drove Geppetto backward until the demon was pinned against a shattered slab of stone.

With the demon impaled, Frey twisted the blade, hollowing out a cavity in the creature's chest.

Geppetto clawed frantically at the steel with trembling fingers, but the blade remained immovable.

Frey met his gaze with eyes like ice...

Then he funneled more Black-Hole Aura into the Dark Sister, letting the destructive force explode inside the demon’s ribcage.

Geppetto let out a shattered, high-pitched scream as his internal organs were shredded at a molecular level.

Frey reduced his insides to pulp before wrenching the sword out, leaving the demon to slump to the ground like a broken doll.

Geppetto clung to a thread of life, dragging his broken form through the mud in a pathetic attempt at escape.

"Where do you think you’re going?"

Frey intercepted him instantly, crushing Geppetto’s head into the dirt with his boot.

"Didn’t I tell you? You die here today."

He raised the Dark Sister high for the execution.

In that final moment, the Rank 13 demon was consumed by a primal, suffocating terror.

"P-Please! Don’t kill me!! I’ll do anything... just don’t!!"

Geppetto shook violently beneath Frey’s heel, begging for any scrap of mercy.

Frey remained unmoved by the demon’s cowardice.

"You dared meddle with my father’s corpse. You dared stain him with your filth, Geppetto... You committed an unforgivable sin... and its only punishment... is death."

With a savage thrust, Frey impaled the demon once more, blood spraying across the cracked earth.

"Don’t worry," Frey hissed.

"You won’t share my father’s fate. I won’t leave your corpse behind. I’ll tear you apart until nothing remains of your filth in this world!"

The Dark Sister became a blur of motion, hacking Geppetto’s remains into fragments.

The demon’s screams lasted for an eternity, pleading for salvation...

Calling to his superiors...

Calling for Zibar...

Calling for Wesker...

But no help arrived.

Both were occupied in desperate struggles against formidable opponents.

Geppetto was abandoned.

And so, his existence was snuffed out by Frey Starlight.

Frey erased him completely, until only drifting ash remained on the wind.

The Rank 13 demon had been wiped from the world.

But then... a strange phenomenon occurred.

From the spot where Geppetto fell, a distorted pulse of dark aura radiated outward—the dying residue of his necromancy.

With the puppet-master gone, the seal on his undead thralls shattered.

The consequence was immediate...

Every corpse he had ever raised suddenly lost its direction, turning into mindless, berserk engines of destruction across the continent.

A fresh disaster had been unleashed.

Frey was oblivious to this, nor would he have cared.

By slaying Geppetto, he had fulfilled a primary goal of his ultimate mission.

Standing amidst the wreckage, he looked toward the horizon, his eyes shimmering with an ominous violet light.

As Geppetto’s life vanished, Frey felt a profound shift.

A surge.

An evolution.

It felt as though his very being was transcending, washed in a majestic energy that revitalized every fiber of his body.

Shadow Adaptation: 5/7.

A higher threshold had been reached.

A new fountain of power was tapped.

His ultimate trait, Shadow Adaptation, had ascended once more.

In a state of heightened clarity, Frey looked toward Ada.

She was battered and blood-soaked, but the protective barrier had kept her alive.

She was out of danger.

That was all that mattered.

Frey then shifted his gaze toward the distance...

Toward the clash between his father and the High-Rank Demon.

He tightened his fist as fresh power bubbled within him.

Without a word, he sprinted toward the fray.

Abraham Starlight had once sacrificed his life for his son...

Frey would not permit a repeat of that tragedy.

This time, he would be the one to protect.

He would fight as his father’s equal.

Frey had long ago vowed:

He would never again be a helpless witness.

His father’s return was a miracle...

A miracle he intended to protect with his life.

Without a shadow of doubt,

Frey plunged into the battle against Zibar, joining his father for the final confrontation.