THE VILLAIN'S POV Chapter 915: Back to the Origin (1)
Previously on THE VILLAIN'S POV...
"Kill me."
The three of them heard Audrey’s voice at the same time.
It was so faint, so fragile, that it barely qualified as a whisper.
The Chamber of Flowers was drenched in crimson.
The color of blood dominated its walls, while scarlet roses adorned every corner.
Aura threads resembling countless crimson tubes hung from every part of Audrey’s body, so numerous that, from afar, they resembled an enormous gown woven from blood, spreading across much of the chamber.
The moment they stepped inside, Frey and the others found themselves walking over it.
Audrey kept her eyes tightly shut.
Dark shadows stained the area around her eyes, spreading over part of her cheeks like marks that had long since become permanent.
"Kill me."
"Kill me."
"Kill me."
Her dying whisper echoed over and over.
Each time those words reached their ears, the three of them understood a little more of the torment she had endured... until death itself had become her only remaining wish.
The only place where her suffering could finally end.
Audrey had always been exceptional, even among the Author’s attendants.
The reason lay in her World Breaking Ability, a gift that granted her an inexhaustible reserve of aura.
Beside Odin alone, she possessed the greatest aura capacity in existence.
She was one of the very few capable of sustaining such limitless power.
Agaroth had exploited that ability.
Rather than allowing the demons’ endless hunger to drive them toward devouring worlds and consuming life itself...
He had simply fed them Audrey instead.
"Audrey has been imprisoned here ever since the first war that marked Agaroth’s true rise to power."
Maskith’s heavy voice echoed softly through the chamber as he looked toward the fellow servant who had once shared his duty under the First Author.
"It happened after he defeated the First Lord of Light."
"That was so long ago..."
He shook his head slightly.
"So long that I can no longer tell you how many years have truly passed."
Although they had once served the same master...
Although they had been sent into this world for the same purpose...
The old man’s eyes showed neither pity nor sorrow toward his younger companion.
"You had her right before your eyes all this time."
Frey interrupted him.
His voice was colder than usual.
"And yet... you did nothing."
Maskith immediately sensed the anger hidden beneath those words.
He instinctively stiffened.
Fortunately...
That anger was not directed at him.
"I had no choice."
Maskith answered quietly, mentioning Agaroth’s name as he attempted to explain himself.
"Agaroth never left her side."
"There was no possible way for me to defeat... that monster."
Frey offered no reply.
Instead, it was the Great One of Earth who broke the silence, his attention fixed upon Frey.
"What do we do now?"
His voice carried genuine concern.
"I’m afraid the damage she’s suffered goes far beyond her body."
"Even if we free her... she may never return to who she once was."
His eyes glowed faintly.
Through them, he perceived things neither Frey nor Maskith could see.
His ability allowed him to peer directly into the mind...
To manipulate memories themselves.
Driven by curiosity, he had attempted to look into Audrey’s consciousness.
What he found...
Was something no one should ever witness.
"Her mind is shattered."
He spoke slowly, struggling to describe what he had seen.
"It’s like a mirror broken into dozens of scattered fragments."
Frey listened in silence.
There was no surprise on his face.
If anything...
He had expected this outcome from the beginning.
"Having her aura drained so relentlessly..."
The Great One continued.
"...is no different from being stabbed without pause while every drop of blood is simultaneously pulled from your veins."
"Someone might endure it for a while."
"But she endured it..."
"For countless years."
"Even I..."
Frey raised his hand before the Great One could continue.
"...wouldn’t have survived something like that."
"My consciousness would’ve shattered as well."
A crimson butterfly slowly materialized above his palm.
It had been formed entirely from Frey’s own aura.
Maskith and the Great One of Earth both turned toward it immediately.
A moment later...
They realized it was no different from the countless butterflies surrounding Audrey.
It was part of her.
Frey gazed at it quietly.
Those brilliant crimson wings awakened memories buried deep within him.
"I nearly died once."
He spoke softly.
"It happened when Snow and I confronted Wesker."
"Audrey was the one who saved my life."
He recalled that distant battle.
Back then, after losing to the Fourth High Demon...
He had possessed nowhere near enough strength to stand against such a monster.
"I owe her my life."
"And I’m not the kind of man who forgets his debts."
Frey had already made his decision.
He would not leave Hellmond...
Not until Audrey had been rescued from Agaroth’s prison.
The prison where she had spent countless years in silent captivity.
Maskith’s gaze shifted repeatedly between Frey and Audrey.
Doubt was plainly written across the old man’s face.
He gently tapped the floor with his staff before asking the question weighing most heavily on his mind.
"But is saving her even possible?"
He sighed.
"If you ask me..."
"She’s already gone."
Frey slowly shook his head.
"No."
"She isn’t gone."
He answered calmly before pointing toward the butterfly resting in his palm.
"Audrey knew she wouldn’t survive."
"So, in desperation..."
"She divided her consciousness."
"She shattered her very existence into countless fragments, leaving a small piece of herself within each one."
"This butterfly is one of those fragments."
The Chamber of Flowers was filled with butterflies.
Each carried a tiny fragment of Audrey’s broken self.
Long ago...
One of those butterflies had escaped Agaroth’s grasp.
It eventually found Frey.
Because he had always been the person it was searching for.
"So..."
Maskith murmured after understanding Frey’s intentions.
"You’re going to gather those scattered fragments..."
"And try to save her?"
Frey nodded.
The old man offered no objection.
Nor did he argue.
He understood there was still a chance.
A real one.
Fifty...
Or perhaps fifty-fifty.
Either Audrey would return...
Or only an empty shell would remain.
A body stripped of its mind...
Driven by nothing except the desire to die and finally find peace.
Frey stepped forward.
He intended to begin immediately.