THE VILLAIN'S POV Chapter 813 After the Fall of Death (2)

Word of Frey's clash with Thanatos soon echoed across vast distances.

Gehrman had deliberately ensured the news spread like wildfire.

Before long, all knew that Frey Starlight had triumphed over a top-tier warrior, sparking massive outrage.

This hit hardest among the Black Knights, the faction swearing loyalty to him.

One might say their operations turned fiercer than ever once their icon pulled off that stunning victory.

Countless soldiers flooded into their midst.

In truth, the Black Knights had swiftly risen to command the army's core within the Shadow Sect's walls.

In a single night, Frey ascended beyond mere hero status.

He transformed into something utterly unique.

The best term for it resembled a faith-based cult.

A cult centered on one lone individual.

Their bold moves bred unease among outsiders due to such fierce conduct.

Still, the commanders stayed mute.

No moves were made to curb them.

This silence granted unspoken endorsement, validating their stand.

Humanity's remnants dwindled to perilously few numbers.

So scarce they bordered on extinction.

Should they endure the looming war…

These remnants would etch the annals of history.

And the name echoing loudest in those tales…

Would surely be Frey Starlight.

...

...

...

Humans faced hectic times.

Final battle setups raced ahead at top pace.

With mighty powerhouses in their ranks, leaders now pondered a bold assault.

Talks even turned to a decisive all-out blow to crush it all at once.

SSS-rank fighters outnumbered foes on their side.

Raw might abounded too—thanks to giants like Fulghor, Kalameet, Snow, and above all, Frey.

Days slipped by relentlessly, yet...

While humans buzzed with fervor—

Demons stayed eerily hushed.

Every shift they made happened in utter secrecy.

Their top leader, the Host of Nightmares known as Amon, uttered scarce words on fresh happenings.

Perched on a massive shadowy pinnacle—the continent of the Ultras' loftiest peak—he sat motionless, silently watching the blood-red sunset sky.

His lengthy black locks swayed with the breeze.

His mask lay nearby.

This time, he went without it.

His red eyes flickered softly now and then, as if burdened by swirling thoughts.

Alone in his isolation, he appeared to relish the quiet.

Until a new arrival shattered the peace.

"I see you haven't abandoned this habit of yours, boy. It brings back memories."

A deep voice rumbled from behind.

An ancient figure whose aura evoked eras long gone.

Elderly with a flowing white beard and silvered hair from years untold.

His visage etched with profound creases.

Clad solely in a sweeping black robe.

He drew near, fondling his beard, boldly calling Amon 'boy'.

Yet Amon took no offense.

Instead, a serene smile graced his face.

"So you have come… my lord."

He spoke with deep respect, drawing a grin from the elder.

"You never abandoned your manners, even though you've grown so much."

"You truly are different from the other demons."

"Not at all."

"This is simply the proper way to address a man who lived in a time older even than the King himself…"

"…Lord Maskith."

One of Hell's Dukes, called forth for the clash against the Shadow Sect, had shown up.

The enigmatic Maskith.

He arrived in stealth.

Devoid of any spectacle.

For an instant, both stared at Earth's vast sky.

One sitting.

The other upright at his side.

That pause flooded back old recollections—to when Amon was just a weak youth.

"Back then, I was nothing more than a lab rat thrown into your experiments," Amon remarked casually. "And yet here we are now… a High Demon and a Great Duke."

"Times have changed quite a bit," Maskith responded evenly, face unchanged. "Or rather… you have."

Amon grinned broadly, lost in those far-off moments.

"I never expected you to come," he voiced with intrigue. "Do you truly intend to fight in the coming battle?"

"If I must, yes," the elder replied steadily, gaze locked on Amon.

"I will only fight under one condition—your defeat. If you lose, I will take over the matter myself."

Amon erupted in hearty guffaws.

"So in other words… you will never fight," he quipped with a smirk. "Because I will not lose."

Maskith eyed him intently.

"From what you're saying… you intend to use that ability?"

Amon gave a firm nod.

"Yes. My enemies grow stronger with every passing second… and I don't believe I can win with my own strength alone."

"I see…" Maskith shut his eyes for a short moment.

"What a pity, then."

"This lovely sky won't endure… if you persist."

Saying that, Maskith spun around and started departing.

"Leaving already?" Amon questioned, facing him.

Maskith lifted a hand in a relaxed gesture.

"Indeed. I'll just watch from the darkness."

"I only showed up today to meet you once more after so many years."

Amon observed him quietly for an instant before posing the query that had been nagging at him.

"By the way, my lord… if we clashed right now, who would you say comes out on top?"

He inquired with a grin.

Maskith halted and faced him once more.

"Gotten cocky from your minor power boost?" the elder stated tonelessly.

"I could handle ten like you effortlessly, kid."

With that, he pivoted again and kept moving off.

"Things would change if you unleashed that banned power of yours, though."

"Nobody could beat you then."

Amon grinned silently while Maskith fully vanished from view.

The Eleventh High Demon stood up and donned his mask.

"Brother Crimson… how are you holding up?"

"Still battling? Coming out ahead?"

"I'm nearly done here… yet I feel some regret."

"Even in victory…"

"I can't link up with you. That power will drain me entirely."

"How regrettable… I'd always yearned to battle alongside you."

Amon gazed downward at the realm below—former home of the Ultras.

Or rather… whatever was left.

The conflict hadn't favored him.

Nito was defeated... and taken prisoner.

Beatrice perished.

Some Ultras mutinied and sided with the Shadow Sect.

The Top Ten High Demons weren't invincible anymore.

Defeats were piling up for them.

Slain.

Seized.

"Guess I'll sort out this chaos on my own."

Gradually, Amon's form faded from the tower summit.

"I'll wipe them out… like the rest before."

His objective stayed straightforward.

Total extermination of foes—

Save for Frey Starlight, tasked to deliver alive to Helmond.

That done…

His duty ends.

Planet Earth's strife concludes eternally.

Days remaining until the Shattering: 45.