THE VILLAIN'S POV Chapter 827 Against the Duke of Hell

Snow offered no spoken reply, his response came instead through the cold bite of steel.

In a flash, a colossal torrent of Light Soul energy ripped through the very fabric of space, engulfing Maskith entirely.

The Vermithor blazed with an intense brilliance as Snow surged forward, his sword aimed with deadly precision at the old man's neck.

"So, you are the architect behind the Devil's Seed…"

"The one accountable for all this widespread suffering—!"

His voice resonated with immense fury.

"Such a being like you has no place in this world!"

"You are nothing more than a depraved existence that inflicts misery upon all life!"

SLAAASH!!

The strike landed.

Clean.

Decisive.

—Except, it was halted.

No.

It was caught.

Snow's eyes widened at a slow pace.

Maskith's frail, withered hand had somehow seized the blade.

With his bare hand.

Effortlessly grasping the gleaming edge of Vermithor.

Completely unharmed.

09:47

Untouched.

Not even a scratch.

Maskith gazed at him.

Within his eyes, there was no trace of anger.

No hint of disdain.

No sign of recognition.

Only one emotion was present.

Boredom.

"Lord of Light…"

A soft chuckle escaped his lips.

"I will not engage in a debate with you."

"You perceive yourself as the noble hero…"

"And me as the wicked villain."

"But your understanding is flawed."

"You fail to comprehend the true nature of this world… and the beings that dwell within it."

With a sudden, swift movement, Maskith yanked Vermithor towards himself—

pulling Snow along against his will.

At the very same moment, Maskith leaned in close...

his voice dropping to a mere whisper near Snow's ear.

"You… and every inconsequential creature in this world…"

"…are merely characters penned by the hand of a single man."

"Beings that can be discarded and replaced at any given moment."

"So tell me… what reason prevents me from extinguishing such existences?"

He tapped his staff.

And Snow was violently propelled backward—

managing only just to regain his balance, his face a mask of profound shock.

"You… what in the blazes do you even mean by that?!"

"The meaning is self-evident. It needs no further elaboration."

Maskith let out a mocking chuckle.

"All that you need to comprehend, Lord of Light… is your own insignificance."

"Replaceable. At any time."

His eyes.

His stance.

Even the rhythm of his voice—

everything confirmed this singular truth.

He spoke no falsehoods.

In his perception—

all life held no value.

That stark realization ignited something deep within Snow.

Confusion.

Rage.

And a chilling sense of unease.

Without any prior warning...

Snow unleashed Pureflame, seamlessly merging it with his Light Soul.

The outcome—

was a surge of power exceeding any he had ever manifested before.

An overwhelming eruption of aura—

one that shattered conventional boundaries.

"Combining two world-altering abilities…"

Maskith's tone conveyed a hint of mild interest.

"I see… so you have indeed ascended to this level."

In response—

a serene, ashen aura began to envelop his form.

"Come."

"I shall entertain you for a short while."

Despite the immense power confronting him—

Maskith displayed no surprise.

No apprehension.

It was as if this entire scenario...

was entirely within his expected purview.

He braced himself to receive the impending attack—

but the force that arrived...

did not originate from Snow.

At the critical final moment... he shifted, his staff rising swiftly—

intercepting a descending blade.

A blade of purest darkness.

Bone-chilling.

Unyielding.

It emanated the profound density of a black hole—

coupled with the searing intensity of a blazing soulfire.

The impact—

was catastrophic.

So destructive that Maskith was violently hurled back several dozen meters against his will.

His eyes narrowed...

focusing intently on the newly arrived combatant.

And unlike their previous encounter—

this time, recognition flickered within them.

"Frey Starlight…"

"Our paths finally cross."

Maskith's lips curved into a smile.

Frey stood before him—

positioning himself directly between Maskith and Snow.

His expression was glacial.

Impossible to decipher.

"Duke of Hell, Maskith."

"I had not anticipated you being the first to fall to my blade today…"

"…but I am considerably pleased with this turn of events."

There was no mistaking the sentiment...

his voice dripped with unadulterated hostility.

His body ignited with a terrifying surge of power.

An oppressive aura radiated outwards—

as palpable killing intent seeped into the space separating them.

"The truth is…"

"I have yearned to extinguish you with these very hands for an extended period."

Frey vanished.

Without any discernible transition.

Without leaving a trace.

He simply ceased to exist...

and reappeared in the very next instant.

The Dark Sister writhed under the sheer destructive force coursing through it—

as Frey brought it down with immense power directly towards Maskith's head.

Maskith closed his eyes.

Slowly.

The immediate vicinity around him began to tremble...

an invisible distortion materialized, intercepting the lethal strike.

A defensive barrier.

Invisible—

yet utterly impregnable.

The Dark Sister halted its descent mere inches from touching him.

But Frey's assault did not falter.

His aura intensified, multiplying in power.

The mounting pressure forced both the barrier and Maskith downwards...

plummeting inexorably towards the earth.

Maskith reacted with immediate swiftness.

A single, precise tap of his staff...

and an unseen wave of concussive force erupted outwards,

slamming into Frey and violently repelling him.

"Easy now, Frey."

"I have no intention of fighting you."

"I see."

"Then disappear… and spare me the trouble." Frey responded instantly—

unleashing a beam of pure darkness.

Maskith raised another unseen barrier ...

deflecting the attack effortlessly.

At the same time—

Snow moved.

Striking from the opposite side.

"Don't forget—your other opponent is still here!"

BOOOOOOOOM!!

Light and darkness collided ..

engulfing Maskith completely.

An overwhelming torrent of energy—

more than enough to annihilate anything caught within it.

And yet Maskith walked out of it.

Unharmed.

Not a single mark on his body.

His gaze remained fixed on Frey.

The same faint smile still lingered on his lips.

"Frey Starlight…"

"You don't have time to waste here."

"I am not your opponent."

He raised a finger—

pointing downward.

"You should look below… before it's too late."

Frey hesitated.

Only for a moment.

There was something strange in Maskith's tone ... something deliberate.

Still—

he complied.

His Void Eyes activated—

piercing through space.

And then—

his pupils widened.

Slowly.

"So that's your plan…"

"You cowardly bastards."

Darkness erupted from his body ...

dense.

Threatening.

"It won't take me more than a few minutes."

"So stay right where you are, old man…"

"…you're next."

With that ... he vanished.

Gone.

Leaving only Snow and Maskith behind in the silent void.

Maskith exhaled softly ... almost in relief.

Then turned his attention back to Snow.

"What a terrifying young man…"

"Now then, Lord of Light…"

"Where were we?"

Snow didn't understand.

Not yet.

But Frey—

had seen everything.

Clearly.

Through the Void eyes.

The enemy he had been waiting for—

had not appeared on the battlefield.

Not on the Ultras Continent.

But somewhere else entirely.

Before the gates of the Shadow Sect ...

stood a man.

A white mask.

Long black hair.

Crimson eyes.

There was something noble about him ...

something… beyond ordinary existence.

Amon.

He had arrived at the Shadow Sect.