THE VILLAIN'S POV Chapter 861 Forced Hand (1)

"Great Mother… heed my plea—and obliterate my adversaries!"

High above Londor's skies, a technique of unparalleled might was unleashed, a spectacle rarely witnessed.

Maskith conjured a colossal phantom, a woman cloaked entirely in shadow, her presence awe-inspiring.

The sheer immensity of aura required for her materialization was staggering… so profound that an oppressive weight bore down upon every lifeform within her dominion.

Alexander Rybak bore the brunt of this formidable pressure.

After all, he was the sole individual who dared to confront the ancient entity known as Maskith directly.

Yet, despite the suffocating force and the terrifying display of power, Alexander remained undeterred.

He surged forward with astonishing velocity—only to encounter something unforeseen.

The spectral figure… was observing him.

Tracking his movements.

As if time itself had decelerated for her penetrating gaze.

And then...

Without the slightest forewarning, her palm descended.

It struck with brutal efficacy, affording him no opportunity for evasion, no possibility of a counterattack.

Raising his arms to shield himself, Alexander was immediately overwhelmed—his form propelled into the earth, scythed across the landscape, obliterating numerous mountains in a single, unrelenting impact.

Nevertheless, the warrior from the Shadow Sect rose instantaneously.

He did not remain grounded for even the briefest moment.

His imposing, dark-armored physique stood unharmed, defying the devastating blow.

Still… the phantom's sheer speed and raw power genuinely astonished him.

"Her resilience… and her speed… they defy normal limits," Alexander breathed, his iron fist clenching as aura surged from it.

"I shall shatter her… with a single blow."

Dropping into a lower stance, bending his knees, he readied himself.

Harnessing every particle of explosive power within his being, Alexander launched himself like a projectile...

the ground beneath him erupting as he instantly annihilated the distance separating him from Maskith.

The instant he closed the gap, the phantom moved once more.

This time, it delivered a thunderous punch directly at him.

But Alexander was prepared.

He retaliated with force.

His explosive fist met the phantom's, and a colossal explosion erupted from their point of contact.

Azure, flame-like aura erupted violently from Alexander, while the phantom countered with a vast deluge of dark aura.

The two opposing forces engaged in a ferocious contest of strength...

a clash so immense it instigated earthquakes and widespread natural calamities across the entire battlefield.

Alexander clenched his jaw, gritting his teeth.

Then...

He unleashed a deafening battle cry that resonated through the very heavens.

Relative to the phantom, his stature was insignificant… comparable to an ant confronting a colossal titan.

The disparity between them was unnatural… overwhelming.

And yet… This "ant" began to exert pressure.

Right before Maskith's astonished eyes, Alexander Rybak gained an advantage in the struggle, pushing the massive phantom backward.

The old man's expression contorted with disbelief.

"The Great Mother's Phantom… is my most potent aura technique… and still, he can withstand it? Who exactly is this individual…?"

With a subtle flick of his staff, Maskith altered the phantom's trajectory.

It retracted its fist… then struck again with its other arm, propelling Alexander through the air.

But in less than a singular second—

He was already back.

Unscathed. Unwavering.

Drawing all the ambient air into his robust lungs, Alexander unleashed another punch of nuclear-level intensity...

a catastrophic blast that tore into the phantom's immense structure.

Yet, it endured.

And it responded.

Its own strike descended like a meteor, sending him hurtling through the air once more.

He impacted the ground...

And instantaneously rebounded.

Again.

And again.

And again.

The cycle repeated with terrifying rapidity.

He struck the ground one moment, only to return to the sky the next...

to re-engage the phantom.

The sequence dissolved into a relentless, continuous exchange.

At some point, Alexander's physical form became imperceptible...

he transformed into naught but a luminous streak, ricocheting between the sky and the earth in an unending tempest of impacts.

Devastation rippled outwards over a vast expanse.

Aura exploded in quantities that defied comprehension.

Tempests raged, hurricanes materialized—enveloping the entire combat zone.

Witnessing the astonishing resilience of this monstrous entity, Maskith extended his hand towards the phantom, channeling an even greater portion of his immense aura reserves into it.

Its might escalated.

Its durability intensified.

Its offensive strikes grew significantly more ferocious.

And yet…

Nothing fundamentally changed.

Irrespective of the number of blows it landed, Alexander returned...

his dark, metallic body remaining completely unblemished.

"What… is that physique constructed from?"

Alexander Rybak was far from an ordinary being.

Particularly that formidable body of his.

A form meticulously crafted to be the supreme… the most indestructible within the confines of the Shadow Sect....

a body that no other could control… save for him alone.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!

Hundreds of nuclear-force punches detonated as Alexander struck repeatedly, blasting the phantom time and again...

yet its shadowy form withstood all of it.

He was incapable of destroying her.

Amid the raging storms of aura and the violent turbulence born from their continuous clashes…

Alexander found himself shaken by the sheer power of his opponent's technique.

'Every punch I throw carries enough destructive force to annihilate advanced SSS-stage fighters in a single hit…

and yet… this old man's technique withstands it—and matches me in raw force…'

For the first time, he faced an opponent he did not understand.

Unlike Vayne and Vex… whom he had already dealt with.

As the brutal clash continued, his eyes drifted almost instinctively ... toward the distant tomb.

The place he had deliberately kept the battlefield away from.

'My king… still needs time.'

'Until he returns completely… I must ensure no one interferes.'

His resolve hardened.

Power surged through his entire being as his aura exploded outward like a raging tide.

"I will not let anyone pass me—"

"Even if it costs me my life!!"

Alexander Rybak stood firm in the sky, placing himself directly between the phantom and the tomb.

The dark entity struck again ... stronger than any previous blow.

But this time…

Alexander did not counter.

He stood still.

Unmoving.

Hardening his body, tightening his fists ... gathering every ounce of strength within him.

And then ... The phantom's fist crashed into him directly.

A massive shockwave erupted from his back, tearing through everything behind him ...

reducing all in its path to dust.

The force unleashed through that strike… belonged to an entirely different tier of power.

Yet Maskith's eyes widened in genuine shock when he saw Alexander Rybak's body remain fixed in the sky ... completely unmoved, not even a fraction of an inch.

The phantom woman's fist rebounded off him, unable to push him back, leaving her exposed right before him.

And in that fleeting instant… the opportunity was seized.

Alexander inhaled sharply, drawing in the surrounding air as his eyes ignited with blazing blue flames.

"Supreme Art: Zero Punch!!!"

Both fists shot forward at once, releasing the full extent of his power in a single, catastrophic burst.

Alexander Rybak's combat style had always been deceptively simple—compress an overwhelming amount of aura into an impossibly small space…

Then detonate it through his punches at extreme speed.

That was the secret behind those blinding explosions.

But Zero Punch… was something else entirely.

It operated on the same principle ... only the scale was magnitudes higher.

The aura condensed into that strike was dozens of times greater than before.

The moment it landed, the phantom's chest and abdomen exploded apart instantly ...

her massive form collapsing before Maskith's very eyes.

"Alexander Rybak's style… Supreme art!!"

Maskith had no time to even process the destruction of his phantom.

Alexander was already upon him—closing the distance in an instant, as if that entity had never mattered at all.

Before him, Alexander formed a blazing sphere ... like a miniature celestial body ... then drew his fist back.

"Oblivion Ray!"

The instant his fist struck the sphere, it detonated violently ...

transforming into a roaring beam of condensed aura that pierced straight through the gaping hole in the phantom's body…

and surged directly toward Maskith.