THE VILLAIN'S POV Chapter 848 Alexander Rybak

Londor… a desolate planet, stripped of life, now only a wasteland.

Echoes of a forgotten epoch lingered—the remnants of a civilization that once commanded immense power for millennia.

Now, it lay as a tomb.

A final resting place, destined to witness the culmination of a conspiracy spanning thousands of years.

Gehrman was the first trailblazer… the inaugural presence on this forsaken, ancient world. But his pursuers were close behind, like persistent specters.

Maskith arrived first… followed by Wesker, inhabiting Vayne’s form, and finally, Vex.

The odds were squarely against Gehrman. All three possessed superior strength in his current condition.

Yet, the engineer with azure eyes paid them no mind.

He propelled himself forward at breakneck speed—bridging inconceivable distances in the span of a heartbeat.

Despite his depleted state, his velocity was still sufficient to challenge his pursuers.

Londor, a world vastly larger than Earth, held its secrets with an iron grip, making comprehensive discovery a near impossibility.

Countless beings had scoured its depths over time, including the Lord of Graves, who occupied the sixth seat, dedicating ages to its exploration.

Nevertheless… he too had failed to unearth the planet’s ultimate secret.

He had mistakenly believed the guarded Crown Lands, shielded by barriers, were the sole enigma.

As they relentlessly pursued, both Maskith and Wesker harbored the same perplexing thought.

'What is his objective…? Where is he fleeing to?'

Burdened with the broken form of his king… what exactly did Gehrman aim to accomplish?

After confronting the Demon King… after witnessing his annihilation of humanity on Earth… after observing his triumph over both Frey and Nameless…

How could he possibly persist in this manner?

The Demon King's actions were the very embodiment of utter despair.

No rational mind could conceive of a path to defeating such a monstrous entity.

Yet… Gehrman had not relinquished hope.

This implied a single truth—he possessed a hidden advantage.

He was neither a simpleton… nor a soul clinging to illusory hope.

All three of his pursuers recognized this profound reality.

Consequently, they launched their assault without a moment's hesitation.

Shadowy tendrils snaked across the terrain like predatory reptiles—shattering mountains and crags as they advanced, intent on consuming Gehrman entirely.

Vex materialized from the gloom, rapidly closing the gap while unleashing a torrent of deadly projectiles… each meticulously aimed to steal the life from the blue-eyed man.

Engulfed in the ceaseless onslaught, Gehrman was compelled to exert his utmost capacity… evading and parrying, desperately safeguarding Frey's incapacitetated body.

His armored vessel sustained further grievous damage…

Nevertheless, he pressed onward.

The sole individual holding back was Maskith.

The enigmatic elder simply observed… trailing at a moderate distance, his gaze alight with profound curiosity regarding the engineer's ultimate design.

"You cannot escape, Gehrman!" Wesker declared, his voice echoing through Vayne’s vocal cords, coalescing into a formidable shadow spear.

"Turn and confront your fate… embrace the end you have always eluded."

With that, he launched the weapon.

It streaked through the void with terrifying accuracy—its target, Gehrman’s back.

From this proximity, a miss was inconceivable.

Perceiving the imminent peril, Gehrman risked a backward glance… his eyes momentarily meeting the approaching weapon… and the three figures relentlessly pursuing him.

Not a trace of fear marred his expression.

Not a flicker of hesitation.

Only serene composure… as if his existence hung in no peril whatsoever.

"Fighting is unnecessary."

"We have already breached his sanctum."

His pronouncement resonated, causing them a momentary lapse in understanding.

They lacked even the interval to process his cryptic statement.

For in the subsequent instant…

An unseen projectile, pulsating with dense, dark-gray aura, impacted the surroundings… utterly annihilating the spear and shielding Gehrman from harm.

The sheer palpable pressure emanating from that aura compelled all three to swivel their attention instantaneously towards its source.

Yet, their vision registered nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

It had originated from a distance far exceeding their perceptive capabilities—yet it had intercepted Wesker's attack with flawless precision.

Without a second’s delay, Gehrman veered towards the direction from which the impactful strike had originated.

Maskith and Wesker, possessing the most acute visual acuity among them, strained to perceive what lay ahead.

But their eyes met only emptiness.

An expanse of desolate terrain… devoid of life, utterly barren.

Or so it seemed… initially.

Mere seconds elapsed before the fabric of reality itself began to unravel.

Before their astonished gazes, the spatial dimensions warped… revealing that which had been concealed beneath the barren expanse.

A colossal edifice ascended.

Immense. Imposing.

Constructed from obsidian metal… each brick laid atop another, blackened with age.

It was no mere castle.

It bore the distinct appearance of… a mausoleum.

An ancestral sepulcher—grand, foreboding, exuding an overwhelming aura of enigma and primal dread.

Wesker stood frozen, overwhelmed by disbelief.

"Impossible… I employed the King's Eye moments ago—how could I possibly have missed its presence?!"

Even a formidable ability such as the King's Eye had proven inadequate to penetrate the veil concealing this place.

The mere fact of this concealment underscored the unimaginable magnitude of the power safeguarding it.

For a moment, a stunned silence fell upon the three.

However, their astonishment was brief, as their attention was drawn upward.

Because atop that colossal structure...

A solitary figure was positioned.

Observing their approach from on high.

He was a towering individual, broad in the shoulders and possessing an imposing stature, easily exceeding two meters in height.

The upper portion of his physique was completely unveiled.

Only dark, tightly bound bandages encircled his torso...

And beneath these wraps... his form was not of flesh and blood.

It was crafted entirely of metal.

A dark, forbidding metal that constituted his complete being.

His face was obscured by shadow, devoid of any color save for the intense azure glow emanating from his sharp, menacing eyes.

He regarded his distant visitors without utterance.

Then, with deliberate slowness...

He adjusted his stance...

And drew back a fist.

A piercing, metallic whine emanated from his body—a grating, ominous sound that signaled impending peril. Gradually, his fist clenched... to the point where the very fabric of the surrounding space began to undulate.

From their vantage point, the trio watched, perplexed.

"What action is he undertaking?"

He was an unfathomable distance away... so far that even with their enhanced sight, only a hazy silhouette was discernible. Yet, distance seemed irrelevant to him.

Gehrman alone grasped the impending event. He advanced without a trace of fear, not even casting a backward glance.

And in mere moments—

The man adorned in black unleashed his fist.

A formidable eruption of aura followed—a force that shook the very heavens and sundered the void itself.

"What—?!"

A sharp intake of breath escaped the pursuers as an immense sapphire light enveloped them—exploding before their faces before any could muster a reaction.

It resembled a cataclysmic blast of aura... searing, roaring, and utterly unforgiving.

Vex and Wesker promptly conjured their shadows to form a defensive screen, while Maskith marshaled invisible barriers with his utmost exertion.

Nevertheless, all their defenses crumbled—barely sufficing to save them, only to propel them hurtling across a vast expanse, violently separating them from Gehrman.

When the three managed to reorient themselves, the singular punch they had witnessed had excavated a chasm comparable in size to a continent between themselves and the enigmatic man.

He took a step forward.

Thunderous claps seemed to erupt around him, and his voice resounded louder than the most violent lightning.

"Finally…"

The utterance, heavy with years of suppressed emotion, emerged from his lips, as if he had languished in an unending state of anticipation.

"For countless years… I have awaited."

"My form, meticulously crafted from black gold, has attained its zenith… and with each passing day, I implored for this ordeal to finally conclude."

He advanced another step.

"Ages I spent in vigil… patiently anticipating his return."

His overwhelming aura intensified into something colossal… a reflection mirrored in the dark steel that composed his very being.

"Decades spent guarding this desolate place… years dedicated solely to rigorous training… training… training—until my ultimate technique was perfected, until my martial prowess reached its apex!"

"All… for this momentous day!!"

The monstrous entity bellowed… launching another devastating punch that hurtled towards them once more.

Gehrman instinctively dodged, his eyes wide with astonishment as he observed that overwhelming surge of power—an explosion born from a solitary blow.

"Alexander… to what extent has your power truly escalated…?"

With a single strike, he had repelled Maskith—the formidable Duke of Hell—Vex, and even the third-ranked adversary among the demonic ranks.

"Proceed! Gehrman!!!"

That resonant, thunderous command jolted Gehrman back to awareness. Without a moment's hesitation, he propelled himself forward, heading towards the somber, ancient mausoleum.

Concurrently, the formidable man entered the fray... taking it upon himself to confront all three adversaries simultaneously.

Gathering his formidable strength, he unleashed a deafening war cry—a sound that ruptured eardrums and proclaimed his presence to the entire world.

"My designation is Alexander Rybak! A man who has endured years of waiting to witness his sovereign stand before him once more!"

"How dare you… you contemptible beings… obstruct his path within my very sight?!"

BOOOOOOOOM!!!

Alexander Rybak delivered yet another punch—unleashing an even more destructive force.

His raw power was genuinely monstrous. His metallic physique radiated an aura of dread... striking terror into the hearts of all who beheld him.

A being meticulously forged from dark metal… a material they had previously encountered only in implements of war...

Now standing before them as a rampaging colossus that annihilated all in its path.

The epic confrontation had commenced.