THE VILLAIN'S POV Chapter 730: Shadow Sect vs the High Demons (12)
Previously on THE VILLAIN'S POV...
The heavens transitioned from a blinding white to an absolute void of black.
Shortly after, the sky was saturated with a breathtaking shade of blue.
Thunder and lightning crashed from every direction—yet these were no ordinary storms.
They were the physical manifestations of two violent auras clashing against one another.
It was Gehrman versus Wesker.
The Engineer had changed this time.
Though his damaged vessel was the same, the sheer power he unleashed was no laughing matter... not even in the slightest.
Standing across from him, Wesker hovered on colossal black wings, each flap stirring up catastrophic windstorms.
The King’s Eye in Wesker’s socket glowed with an intense light.
At that same moment...
Four azure rings, mimicking the appearance of ancient Roman timepieces, began to rotate around Gehrman’s right arm.
"The Hand of the Sovereign."
Gehrman whispered the name of the mysterious ability as he activated it, while Wesker immediately attempted to analyze its secrets.
"So this has been your scheme all along, has it?"
While they traded words, the fierce struggle between Zibar and Abraham continued to rage in the distance.
"You turned Abraham Starlight into your hidden card, waiting for the ideal moment to play him against me,"
Wesker remarked with unsettling calm.
"And now you have leveled the playing field by resurrecting the ancient heroes of humanity—exactly as you intended centuries ago."
Wesker brought a hand to his face, fully acknowledging that the blue-eyed man had truly outmaneuvered him this time.
Gradually, his lips curled into something resembling a grin.
He reached out with both hands... and began to applaud.
Once.
Twice.
He clapped repeatedly.
The applause became so violent that waves of aura erupted from the sheer impact of his palms.
"Magnificent... truly superb," Wesker praised.
"It is exactly what I would expect from the right hand of Nameless, isn't it? Truly impressive."
Despite the malice in his voice, his respect was sincere.
Very few individuals possessed the capability to manipulate Wesker—especially considering his King’s Eye could see the threads of fate.
"What follows next?" Wesker asked with a soft chuckle as a massive surge of dark aura billowed from his form.
"I presume your next objective is to kill me, correct?"
"You do understand that I am merely a gateway, don't you?"
"I am only the Fourth."
Wesker gestured toward Gehrman, laughing.
"I am genuinely intrigued, Engineer.
People like us never move without a strategy—none of our actions are ever random."
"You must have planned for what happens after I fall, haven’t you?"
"How do you intend to handle the others once you have defeated me here?"
"How will you stand against those who outrank me?"
"And what of the Dukes of Hell, who have yet to even make a move?"
"Of course... that is assuming you actually manage to best me today."
Despite the looming threat, Wesker remained perfectly composed.
In contrast...
Gehrman’s body began to ascend, still radiating a crushing level of power.
"No more plans. No more tricks this time."
He settled into a fighting stance, a confident smile touching his lips.
"All I desire now... is to grant this body a battle worth fighting... just like the old days."
Gehrman had chosen a direct path.
Those words carried significant weight—because he had not always been this straightforward.
The passage of time had left its mark on him.
He had sacrificed much because of it.
He was no longer the figure whose name once made the world tremble.
For millennia, Gehrman had buried his own impulses to execute a plan that spanned across eras.
But today—for the first time—
He permitted those long-buried desires to rise to the surface.
In this moment, he was not just the Engineer of Nameless.
Today, he was the Saint... Gehrman.
His blue eyes flared with light.
Instantly, aura surged around his left fist.
A roaring blue flame ignited—its sparks flying in every direction.
"No... that isn't fire," Wesker muttered, seeing the truth.
"...That is absolute, freezing frost."
"Correct," Gehrman answered.
He threw a punch into the air toward Wesker...
And a colossal wave of that "flame" shot through the sky, rushing to consume Wesker at an alarming speed.
That blue fire was ice so frigid that it mimicked the appearance of flames.
The frost-wave swallowed both the horizon and Wesker himself.
Moments later, Wesker barely managed to escape the blast radius... but those few seconds had taken their toll.
Half of his body was frozen solid, the extreme temperature destroying his cells.
"This frost..." Wesker whispered.
"Is this not the trademark power of the Aetherial Fire Beings?"
"Correct again," Gehrman said.
The Engineer was originally a member of one of the Great Races, the progeny of one of the Seven Supreme Powers...
The Fire Beings, famously known as the Children of Irithyll.
Their ice appeared as fire... burning and freezing simultaneously.
However, what Gehrman was showing now was on a completely different level.
"It wouldn’t be an overstatement to say this rivals Vordit himself."
Even though Gehrman wasn't at his peak, Wesker compared his strength to the Sixth of the Seven Supreme Powers.
It served as a reminder of Gehrman’s true identity.
Without further delay, Wesker released his full power... no longer willing to underestimate his foe.
"Show me what you can do."
The Fourth-Rank Demon reached out.
Darkness coalesced before him, forming a black star.
With a sharp motion, Wesker triggered it, sending a roaring beam of dark aura that erased a huge portion of the sky.
The strike contained his maximum output—he intended to leave the Engineer no room to recover.
Yet, it hit nothing but air.
Gehrman had already vanished.
The King’s Eye flared to life...
Wesker spun around instantly, throwing a punch...
Only for his fist to smash directly into Gehrman’s.
The impact was catastrophic.
Blazing frost aura fought against darkness in a brutal battle of endurance.
But after only a few seconds, both combatants retreated.
Wesker pulled back immediately, his brow furrowed in a deep scowl.
"His velocity is terrifying... I wouldn't have even seen him without the King’s Eye. And then there is this cursed frost..."
Wesker looked at the arm that had met Gehrman’s fist, finding it partially encased in ice, with black blood crystallized along the skin.
"This is going to be difficult..."
"I see you still have time to ponder."
Wesker’s eyes snapped wide as the Engineer’s voice sounded right next to his ear.
The Rank Four Demon lashed out to his right... but struck nothing. Gehrman was already positioned on his left.
BOOOOM!!!
A strike faster than lightning landed squarely on Wesker’s face.
He was sent hurtling through the air, blood spraying from his face, completely unable to react to the sudden blow.
Wesker barely managed to stabilize himself by spreading his wings... only to find Gehrman standing right in front of him, their bodies nearly touching.
"You are far too slow, Rank Four Demon."
"...Huh?"
A pained sound left Wesker’s throat as his King’s Eye witnessed something impossible.
Fists.
An endless number of fists.
Thousands of them.
All of them struck his body at the exact same moment, hammering him like a tempest.
Gehrman was moving at a ridiculous speed—so fast that he could deliver blows at this impossible frequency.
His movements were not Frey’s instantaneous teleportation, but pure, overwhelming speed that gave the illusion of it.
To Wesker’s vision, Gehrman now seemed to possess thousands of arms.
The Rank Four Demon crumpled under the onslaught, completely unable to keep pace with that velocity.
After just a few seconds of that frantic beating, Wesker’s body was left in a ruinous state... bleeding in some places and frozen solid in others.