THE VILLAIN'S POV Chapter 854 The Truth Behind Everything (1)

The truth… the ultimate truth behind everything.

The resolution to countless lingering questions, and the answer to a profound mystery that had persisted for far too long.

Frey’s heart hammered against his ribs, his anticipation reaching an unbearable crescendo as he stood on the precipice of unveiling it all.

What had the being known as Nameless discovered in that long-lost past?

What kind of terrifying madness had unfolded before him—what had he heard—that compelled even an entity supposedly devoid of emotion to reject it, to forcibly purge the memory and cast it into oblivion?

At a pivotal juncture in his profound journey, Nameless had pursued faint traces… intentionally left behind by an unfathomable entity, a presence he couldn't discern or even begin to identify its origin.

Yet, through these ancient fragments, he had arrived at a place utterly uncharted, a realm no soul had ever set foot in before… and in doing so, confronted the deeply buried truth.

Frey’s expression grew starkly serious, mirroring the intense apprehension now gripping the present-day Nameless.

Even the Nameless of that distant era, who was not known for outward displays, didn't seem his usual composed self—he appeared visibly shaken, unable to maintain the stoicism that had once characterized him.

Everything now teetered on the brink of revelation.

Whatever answers were about to be brought to light would irrevocably shape all that was to come.

For from the insights they were about to gain and the understanding they would achieve… the ultimate volition of Frey would crystallize… the very persona destined to continue the unending war for existence.

The souls that had met their end on Earth… still lingered, their ultimate fates unaddressed.

And innumerable other lives would undoubtedly be transformed by the profound metamorphosis Frey was on the verge of undergoing.

It would be no exaggeration to state that the ordeal Frey Starlight now faced… would fundamentally alter the course of all things.

This moment would herald the commencement of an entirely new epoch—one that defied all prior comparison.

Standing shoulder-to-shoulder, both the current Nameless and Frey followed their past iteration into the radiant stream of light…

“It was a descent into the unknown, both exhilarating… and deeply terrifying,” Nameless articulated, his demeanor resolute as he walked alongside Frey.

“The sheer thrill of unraveling truth… of bringing silence to questions left unanswered for ages. And conversely, the dread of confronting a reality so brutal… it possessed the power to shatter even a being without inherent emotions.”

The Nameless of the past had found it unbearable.

“But we will endure it,” Frey stated firmly, meeting Nameless’s gaze with an unyielding determination.

“After a lifetime steeped in nothing but misery and relentless suffering… after enduring years of struggle submerged in profound sorrow… I doubt any truth, however agonizing, can possibly break me now.”

Nameless offered a subtle, knowing smile at Frey’s declaration.

“As though all that accumulated suffering… was merely a crucible, a preparatory phase for this precise moment.”

“Yes… I believe it was,” Frey confirmed, returning the faint smile before drawing a deep, steadying breath.

And at long last… the colossal luminescence parted, unveiling that which it had so carefully concealed.

Frey bore witness with his own eyes to the instant Nameless tore through the ethereal veil…

The very moment he breached the sanctum where all hidden secrets resided.

Before their astonished eyes, an entirely novel dimension unfolded… a place that sent an icy tremor down their very beings, despite their incorporeal forms.

Nameless stepped into what presented itself as… a grand library.

A profoundly familiar edifice—Frey recognized it instantaneously.

It was an exact replica of the one he had glimpsed within the confines of the mask, eerily echoing those depicted in the very paintings they had recently observed.

Its shelves extended into an infinite vista... ascending and descending through countless levels.

The sheer scale was immense, furnished with exquisitely carved wooden tables and chairs, its architecture a striking blend of opulent gold and obsidian stone.

Intricate staircases and winding passages crisscrossed its structure, seamlessly connecting disparate sections across its immeasurable expanse.

A library that defied all comprehension… a repository containing secrets of unimaginable magnitude.

The instant Nameless crossed its threshold for the very first time… his physical form convulsed violently.

Then, he sank to one knee, overcome.

Frey and the Nameless of the present stared on, stunned into silence as they witnessed…

For the first time in his existence… a genuine warmth surged through his chest.

A sensation of warmth he had never before experienced.

The Nameless from that past era remained oblivious to the inexplicable phenomenon occurring within him.

He couldn't grasp the peculiar heat radiating through his being… nor the alien emotions that suddenly seized him without preamble.

“He’s… actually feeling…” Frey whispered, his voice laced with disbelief, having firmly believed that Nameless only began to experience emotions through his own influence.

This memory starkly illuminated the extent of his miscalculation.

Engulfed by these novel sensations, Nameless remained immobile—incapable of movement, utterly unable to even register the reality unfolding before him.

He spent those formative moments attempting to comprehend the nascent feelings that had just awakened within his core.

Frey and the current Nameless, however, found themselves in a different state.

Possessing emotions already, they therefore experienced none of the profound awakening he had undergone back then.

Their focus shifted, scanning the vast interior of the library… actively seeking the answers they desperately needed.

And what greeted their eyes… rooted them to the spot.

“…Tell me what I’m perceiving is merely a phantom,” Frey implored, his eyes betraying a visible tremor.

“No,” Nameless responded, his voice equally strained. “It is undeniably real. Utterly and undeniably real.”

Directly before them stood an unadorned table… neither excessively large, nor particularly small.

Positioned in front of it… a solitary chair.

And resting upon that table was a substantial, peculiar tome bound in black… its cover inscribed with elegantly swirling golden lettering.

Its title read clearly:

"Land of Survival."

A familiar name—to Frey… and to Nameless, who shared his memories.

But the true shock did not come from the book… nor its title.

It came from the one seated before it.

A young man sat upon the chair, his hand resting atop the book's cover.

Still. Silent. Unmoving.

He looked… lifeless.

As though his soul had already left his body.

His hair was long, dark, and strikingly beautiful.

His features… were unmistakable.

They were the same features… shared by Frey… and Nameless.

"…He looks like us."

Unnervingly so.

Yet there was one difference ...

The darkness that consumed his eyes…

as though they had been replaced by gleaming black pearls of shadow.

The young man looked almost identical to Frey—as though he were another version of him, one more complete… more refined… and far heavier in presence.

He wore unfamiliar black garments, subtly different from anything Frey had ever seen before.

Beside him stood an older man, well into his forties… with thick white hair, a light beard, and features that radiated an inexplicable warmth and familiarity.

The man stood behind the youth, resting his hand gently upon his shoulder.

Yet his eyes, too, were filled with darkness—lifeless, hollow… as though his soul had already departed.

Both of them were in the same state.

One sat, his hand resting upon the book… while the other stood behind him, hand upon his shoulder ... as if bound together by something unseen.

Frey stared at the older man for a long time, his eyes trembling, his mouth slightly open, unable to form a single word.

"My mind wants to say this is impossible… but my eyes insist that what I'm seeing is real."

He stepped forward slowly, each movement heavy… while Nameless remained behind him.

Frey continued walking, step by step… until he stood directly before them.

"There's no doubt…" he said, his voice unsteady.

"No matter how I look at him… no matter how long I stare… I become more certain…"

"…that this is… my father."

In that moment, the truth revealed itself.

The man was a perfect reflection of Abraham Starlight ..  yet even more complete… more imposing.

And the one seated upon the chair…

"…that's me."

Frey staggered back slightly, a sharp headache crashing into him, followed by a wave of dizziness.

"What the hell is going on here…?"

Looking around, he noticed the books surrounding him—countless of them.

Yet for some reason… they felt suffocating.

They closed in on him from all sides, as if their words had become screams echoing through his mind and soul.

They felt real… alive… their voices reverberating deep within him.

Especially that black book ... it exerted the strongest presence of all.

Frey felt lost… as though he were about to be dragged away by those voices.

But Nameless intervened immediately, grabbing him firmly.

"Pull yourself together! Don't let them take you!"

Snapping him back to reality, Nameless covered Frey's ears with both hands, his own gaze scanning the surroundings in confusion.

Before them sat Frey and Abraham—motionless before the book that seemed to have stolen their souls.

And all around them… the books screamed with living words, as if real people were calling out from within them.

The entire scene felt surreal… like a powerful illusion imposed upon them.