THE VILLAIN'S POV Chapter 847 Endless Struggle (2)

A world stood poised to witness the conclusion of a conspiracy spanning millennia.

Without a moment's hesitation, the trio gave chase, pursuing Gehrman.

Meanwhile, high above Earth, the celestial battle raged on—time itself appearing to warp and stretch differently between the two distinct realms.

The Demon King carved a path through the Devourers of Chaos, one after another, annihilating them with sheer, unbridled brutality.

Their blood spilled like rain upon the land, coalescing into crimson rivers as he relentlessly advanced toward the figure known as the Great One.

"I had assumed you were nothing more than chattel, mere slaves to that abhorrent entity," Agaroth snarled, his voice echoing with disdain.

"Since when did you acquire the autonomy to act according to your own volition?!"

The Great One met the onslaught head-on, unleashing a torrent of immense aura that clashed with the Demon King's power.

"We remain slaves… that much is indeed accurate," he responded with unsettling calm.

"However, as you can clearly observe… I possess a certain distinction."

Agaroth retaliated by combining two reality-shattering abilities, directing a wave of pure darkness straight at his opponent—

yet, to his astonishment, the attack dissolved into nothingness before it could even make contact.

It was at this precise moment that understanding finally dawned upon him.

"My inherent ability… is named Oblivion."

A power both strange and profoundly terrifying.

It possessed the faculty to erase his name… and indeed, his very essence… from the collective consciousness of all sentient beings.

Even his progenitor, Odin himself, had been made to forget him… utterly expunged from all memory.

Wielding this formidable power, the Great One had successfully severed his own chains, remaining in concealment for countless eons.

It was a perilous capability.

One that granted him the capacity to nullify the Demon King's assaults—rendering them mere phantoms, as if they had never occurred at all.

Had it not been for Agaroth's inherent resilience, even he might have forgotten ever initiating those attacks.

Oblivion offered even more than simple negation.

It bestowed upon him the power to manipulate minds directly—to expunge memories, and to implant entirely new ones in their stead.

It was through this potent ability that he had masterfully orchestrated the subjugation of the Devourer of Chaos—transforming it into nothing more than a compliant instrument.

An instrument… now employed to ensnare the mighty Demon King.

Agaroth found it utterly incomprehensible why this Great One had chosen to align himself with Gehrman and the clandestine Shadow Sect.

The Great One offered no elucidation for his actions.

Instead, he simply continued his relentless assault.

Unyieldingly.

Subduing the Demon King with every ounce of his formidable power.

"Do you truly comprehend the gravity of standing in opposition to me… Great One?"

Agaroth contemptuously flung aside the remains of vanquished beasts, his form radiating an oppressive, overwhelming pressure.

"You ought to have remained in obscurity."

"You willingly forfeited your existence the very instant you chose to reveal yourself."

"I am entirely apprised of the consequences," the Great One replied, utterly unfazed—as though he had long since accepted this particular outcome from the outset.

Despite the profound exhaustion that permeated his being, the Demon King still commanded sufficient might to bring ruin to entire worlds.

Although his aura reserves had been significantly depleted during his arduous confrontation with Nameless, he commenced the vital process of replenishing them… drawing in and absorbing every vestige of ambient energy from his immediate surroundings.

His physical form transformed into something akin to a void, a black hole…

consuming all existence.

"…Agaroth… what a truly cursed existence you embody."

A radiant, pure white aura emanated around the Great One—luminescent as freshly churned milk foam—coalescing into colossal spears that then launched themselves with blinding speed toward the Demon King.

Agaroth countered the assault with swirling shadows, subsequently retaliating with torrents of dark, fiery energy that immolated vast swathes of the landscape with each devastating eruption.

The Great One strained, erecting translucent, glass-like barriers to absorb the inferno's fury as he was progressively forced backward.

His vacant, obsidian eyes remained fixed upon Agaroth's imposing silhouette…

desperately attempting, even just once, to penetrate the enigma that was that ever-shifting singularity.

"From whence… does all that incomprehensible power originate?"

he mused internally.

"Such power cannot spontaneously generate from nothingness… there must be some underlying source…"

A profound secret… one that the Great One of Earth desperately yearned to unravel—yet he found himself utterly incapable of piercing Agaroth's inscrutable existence, nor could he grasp the complex, anomalous architecture that defined him.

A being both twisted and flawlessly formed… one that no entity could truly fathom, save for the singular entity responsible for his creation.

'At this trajectory… I shall fall swiftly.'

The stark realization settled upon him without any internal resistance. The Great One understood with chilling certainty that he could not possibly endure prolonged engagement against Agaroth—especially considering his own abilities, formidable as they were, had never been designed or honed for direct, sustained combat.

Even the potent energy of the Last Survivor would offer no salvation now, not when he had willingly exposed himself before eyes capable of bending the very fabric of fate.

'But it is sufficient… I have entirely fulfilled my designated role. There is absolutely nothing further required of me.'

He ceremoniously lifted his gaze towards the heavens, a profound sense of serenity gradually permeating his features.

'Time flows at a significantly accelerated pace in that other realm… in Londor. By the time this cataclysmic battle concludes… all outcomes shall have already been irrevocably determined.'

And thus, Agaroth had been successfully impeded—held back, expertly restrained, and prevented from intervening in the grander scheme.

All that now remained… were his subordinates, and they now constituted the solemn burden that Gehrman was condemned to face alone.

The Great One gave the matter no further consideration. Gehrman, despite his weakened state, would inevitably confront them in solitary combat.

Ten minutes subsequently elapsed.

By that point, the Demon King stood once more before him… having annihilated every last Devourer of Chaos, having utterly erased that enigmatic Great One from existence itself.

Now… his moment had arrived.

Agaroth loomed, a figure cloaked in profound darkness, shadows writhing like living entities around his form.

"Any final words?" the Demon King inquired, his voice devoid of emotion, his expression utterly blank.

The Great One offered a wry smile.

"None."

There was nothing more left for him to utter. His designated purpose had been served.

He had placed his trust in the very same path that Frey… and the Shadow Sect… had embraced.

Now, only the outcome awaited.

And facing the Demon King in one's final moments… was merely a consequence of that conclusion.

He had come to terms with it.

However, another soul refused to accept such an end.

Just as Agaroth prepared to strike, a powerful wave of emerald aura violently tore through the space between them, rending both earth and void, compelling them to separate.

"Great One of Earth… did you conceal yourself for all this time… only to meet such a pathetic demise?"

A third presence materialized.

A solitary figure advanced from the distance, bearing a blade resembling a katana, its hilt a gleaming gold.

His attire was tattered and scorched. A vibrant green hue illuminated his hair and eyes.

A self-assured grin played on his lips, while intricate, arcane markings pulsed across his body, radiating formidable power.

"And who might you be?" Agaroth pivoted, directing his query toward the newcomer.

The young swordsman assumed an impeccable battle stance.

"They know me as… the Transcendent Ascendant. The fifth amongst the Seven Great Powers…"

He ascended into the sky with a powerful leap.

Then, he descended—his strike cleaving through the very fabric of space.

"The human… Sieghart!!"

Slash—!!

Agaroth deflected the incoming blade with his arm, his shrouding shadows clashing ferociously with Sieghart's unleashed aura.

Their combined powers collided—yet the Ascendant maintained his position against the formidable Demon King.

"A mere human…?" the Great One mused, a flicker of disbelief in his eyes.

Sieghart's sword became a blur, its movements intricately weaving—enveloping the King within an tempest of innumerable emerald slashes.

Perceiving the potent force behind that devastating weapon, Agaroth's smile broadened.

"I have confronted numerous formidable adversaries today."

"A select few managed to evade my grasp… but a far greater number were entombed beneath the soil."

"And it appears… I am destined to inter even more."

His incandescent fist impacted Sieghart's sword with crushing force—propelling him backward.

Yet, the Ascendant recovered instantaneously, poised for another engagement.

"Proceed, then. Endeavor to entomb me, Demon King."

"Should my ultimate fate be defeat at your hands… then I shall embrace it."

His aura surged—mounting, expanding beyond all conceivable limits.

"I set foot upon this world at the very moment you descended… a fact that undeniably marks me as a target of the very force that summoned you, regardless of other considerations."

Green energy swirled around his blade, its intensity escalating with each passing second.

"My intention was never to confront you directly…"

"But I have just borne witness to the most magnificent battle of my existence."

"My very blood boils with exhilaration; I find myself unable to restrain my impulses any longer."

"If oblivion is my inevitable end… so be it!"

"But before I succumb—before I return to the primal dust…"

"Allow me to demonstrate… the true potential of humanity!!"

The Great One's eyes widened in astonishment.

In that pivotal instant, comprehension dawned upon him.

True humans…

A legendary hero who had departed Earth countless centuries prior.

"Unthinkable…"

"Am I truly beholding the emergence of a new lineage… with my own senses?"

The zenith of the nascent human race….

The Transcendent Ascendant, Sieghart.

A warrior endowed with the intrinsic gift of the Prophet of Humanity…

And now resolved to reveal its profound truth—in defiance of the Demon King himself.

The conflict unfolding on Earth reached its ultimate crescendo.

And in a distant realm…

Londor, too, entered its decisive confrontation.

The final stand of the Shadow Sect had commenced.

An ancient behemoth, concealed for aeons, emerged once more into the light—

A being that had patiently awaited this precise moment… to re-enter the fray.

A cataclysm that irrevocably altered the destinies of entire races… and shattered the resolve of mighty warriors.

Ancient humans. Modern humans.

The Shadow Sect. The demonic legions. The Great Ones.

The monumental battle for dominion over Earth raged fiercely…

Its reverberations extending even to Londor.

And the paramount question remained…

What ultimate conclusion… would this arduous and bitter war ultimately bestow?