THE VILLAIN'S POV Chapter 938: The Prophecy That Created a Monster (1)

The passage connecting the two worlds collapsed.

It shattered with terrifying speed, giving Frey and the others no chance to react, much less stop what was happening.

Seth collapsed as well, utterly exhausted after draining every last trace of his strength to keep the passage intact until that moment. But what had just happened was far beyond anything he could handle.

Yet no one had suffered more than Agaroth.

He had been forcibly thrown back, expelled from the passage and cast once more into the Land of Survival.

His body was horribly mangled, barely holding itself together after most of it had turned to dust. The damage was appalling, yet his crimson eyes remained fixed on a single point, carrying a chilling look that could make anyone’s blood run cold.

Because standing before him was the same woman who had haunted his nightmares for years.

The First Writer.

Clea.

She was exactly as he remembered her, from her overwhelming presence to those eyes resembling the night sky itself.

They were strange, extraordinary eyes, so profound that each one seemed to contain an entire universe within it.

But this was hardly the time to marvel at her presence or her power.

There was only one question that mattered.

"Why?!!"

Agaroth barely managed to force that single word from his mouth as his ruined body staggered, struggling just to remain upright.

It felt as though a volcano had erupted inside his mind, while every cell in his body throbbed with rage and fury.

His question was justified.

And it was the same question Frey and the others wanted answered.

Frey and Abraham immediately stepped forward, placing themselves between Clea and Agaroth, while Audrey remained behind with the exhausted Seth, watching what was about to unfold.

"Clea... why are you here?"

Abraham approached her with confusion written across his face, his gaze meeting his wife’s.

"I should be asking you the same thing. Why did you take part in this? Do you have even the slightest idea what you were about to do?"

Clea turned toward the place where the passage between the two worlds had just collapsed.

"If beings like him become capable of leaving whenever they please, then what would be the purpose of creating these worlds in the first place? And what do you think would happen to our real world?"

Clea wasn’t speaking without reason, and Abraham understood that perfectly well.

The Writers did not create countless worlds simply for the sake of doing so. There was a purpose behind their existence.

It maintained balance and prevented catastrophes whose true scale of destruction no one could possibly predict.

All of that was true.

Yet the more Frey thought about it, the deeper his frown became.

"So that’s why you interfered? To preserve the balance and prevent some catastrophe?"

His voice grew heavier as he rejected her reasoning.

"I don’t understand how what we were doing posed any danger. We were only trying to bring Agaroth out, not drag the entire Land of Survival with him!"

Behind Frey, Agaroth listened in silence while doing everything he could to repair the damage inflicted upon his body.

"If Agaroth alone crossed over, nothing would happen. I’m certain of that."

"No."

Clea cut him off coldly, her eyes never leaving Agaroth.

"He, specifically, must never leave this world."

Her gaze hardened.

"In fact, it would be preferable if he died here."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Frey’s expression darkened further.

"You already sealed his power and stopped his growth. What danger could he possibly pose now?!"

His agitation grew with every exchange.

Until Clea extinguished it completely with her next words.

"I know exactly what I’m talking about."

"Because the Oracle has delivered another prophecy."

For a moment...

Absolute silence descended upon them.

The mere mention of the Oracle was enough to leave even Frey unable to respond immediately. Every Writer in existence understood the weight carried by that title.

But of everyone present, Agaroth was the most shaken.

He refused to believe what he was hearing.

Every fiber of his existence wanted to reject it.

Clea continued without caring what he thought.

"Through the Oracle’s prophecy, we learned that you would attempt to bring him out of the Land of Survival."

"And that your attempt would succeed."

"But that success would mark the beginning of a chain of events... events that would ultimately end in catastrophe, with a dark monster rising to become a threat to every living being."

"A monster that devours everything in its path."

There was no mistaking who Clea’s final description referred to.

Agaroth.

"This thing must never leave the Land of Survival."

Clea’s voice remained mercilessly calm.

"It should die here."

Every word she spoke struck the monster destined to one day devour everything like a bolt of lightning.

Agaroth trembled.

His dark crimson eyes remained fixed on Clea.

’Again...’

’Again...’

’Is my fate going to be decided again... because of a single prophecy? Because of some damned vision seen by an Oracle?!’

It had already happened once.

And that single time had nearly driven Agaroth mad.

His growth had been stopped and his power sealed just as he was approaching the goal he had spent so long pursuing.

Agaroth had sought freedom.

He wanted to prove that he was not a slave to those authors.

To prove that he belonged to himself.

That he could defy them, even if only once.

All he wanted was to escape his cage and stand upon the same ground they did.

To exist in the same world as them.

As their equal.

That alone would have been enough.

He had never asked for anything more.

Despite the despair he had suffered the first time, Agaroth had risen again.

He had tried again.

He had even managed to convince Frey and the others to help him.

He found another path.

He took his first steps upon it and nearly reached the other side.

He had been so close.

He had even seen the Aether World with his own eyes.

Yet once again...

At the very end of the road, when his goal was finally within reach, that woman stood before him.

And she looked at him with the same eyes.

The same gaze that saw him as nothing more than a slave beneath her.

Nothing more than ink upon paper.

Something utterly insignificant.

’Does this make any sense?’

’Is it right to condemn me because of a prophecy?’

’Do I have to abandon everything because of it? Not once... but twice?!’

’Do they have the right to decide my fate? To interfere with my future and pass judgment on me... simply because they saw some damned future I know nothing about?’

’Simply because they’re stronger than me?’

"No..."

Agaroth’s voice trembled as he forced himself back onto his feet.

"I refuse to accept this."

Dark power began swallowing his body.

His missing limbs started regenerating on their own.

His power began to rise.

The pressure radiating from him intensified enough to draw everyone’s attention.