THE VILLAIN'S POV Chapter 941: Against the First Writer (2)

"Hasn’t my point already proven itself once?"

Frey immediately countered her argument.

"You acted in the past to prevent the first prophecy. You sealed Agaroth’s power and stopped his growth."

"But all that did was lead us to another catastrophe... and another prophecy."

He was using the events of the past as evidence against her.

"I’m not asking you to do nothing."

"Just... don’t try to stop something that hasn’t even happened yet."

Fate had always been an obscure concept, far too complex for any single person to fully comprehend.

Even if someone knew the future and attempted to change it, there was no guarantee that their interference would lead to a better outcome.

After everything Frey had seen and experienced...

And after witnessing the five visions of his own future...

He had come to believe that deeply.

But his reasoning did not convince Clea in the slightest.

If anything, it angered her.

"Seriously, Frey?"

"That’s your brilliant advice? Your perfect solution?"

"To do nothing until the catastrophe happens right in front of me?"

Frey’s argument seemed so absurd to her that Clea released a long sigh, disappointment plainly visible on her face.

"You misunderstand."

"Even if my actions today lead to another catastrophe, then I’ll simply deal with that catastrophe as well."

"Just as I dealt with the first."

Her gaze moved toward Agaroth.

"Besides... if that thing dies here, how exactly is he supposed to cause any more trouble?"

"Don’t you understand, Frey?"

"Once he dies, we put an end to every evil that could ever come from him, whether in the present or the future."

Clea’s voice remained cold and rational.

"So tell me... why should I abandon a guaranteed solution like that and allow him to live?"

"Especially when he already harbors so much hostility toward us Writers."

"If we allow him to continue living, sooner or later, he will stand against us."

No matter how they looked at the situation...

No matter which angle they approached it from...

Killing Agaroth seemed like the perfect solution.

One that was almost impossible to argue against.

If he died, his path would be erased entirely from the flow of fate, leaving him incapable of influencing the future ever again.

Clea’s argument was becoming increasingly convincing, and everyone present could feel it, whether Abraham, Seth, or even Audrey.

But Frey could not allow her to kill Agaroth.

’I have to save him somehow... If those five visions Lea showed me are true, then his existence is necessary!’

Frey’s thoughts raced as he desperately searched for a solution.

He wanted to shout the real reason at the top of his lungs, to tell them just how important Agaroth truly was, but he could not reveal the visions of his own future. The moment he did, that future could change completely and collapse beyond recognition.

Words would never convince Clea.

And that left Frey with only one choice.

The First Writer’s eyes slowly widened as her son raised two fingers toward her, holding them like the barrel of a gun poised to fire.

Aether erupted around those fingers at an astonishing density, wrapping around them as it took on shades of crimson and black at once, merging positive and negative into a single force.

Frey’s Aura erupted violently.

Then his voice thundered through the void, shaking everything around him.

"Get out of this world!"

Frey unleashed the full force of his Aether upon Clea.

A deafening explosion followed, drowning the entire world in gray. The power behind the attack was so terrifying that the ground beneath them began to disappear, unable to withstand the sheer force of his Erasure.

An attack of that magnitude could have erased almost any creature from existence in the blink of an eye.

But his opponent was no ordinary creature.

She was the First Writer.

Clea shielded herself from the damage, countering Frey’s attack by releasing a wave of Aether equal to the one her son had fired at her.

Even so, the suddenness of his attack forced her several steps backward.

Mother and son possessed similar Runes, both carrying the properties of Erasure.

But Clea’s Aether was stronger.

Little by little, Frey began to lose ground beneath the crushing pressure of his mother’s power.

Their Auras collided and wrestled against one another, turning their confrontation into a brutal contest of sheer force, each trying to overwhelm and crush the other.

The pressure was suffocating.

Audrey could barely protect herself and Seth beside her even after releasing everything she had.

Abraham, meanwhile, fared considerably better, maintaining his composure despite standing much closer to Clea and Frey.

"So you’ve chosen to fight."

"Against me... your own mother."

Clea raised a hand toward Frey and began walking forward again, one step after another, while the Aether surrounding her swelled with every passing second.

From afar, it looked as though two colossal spheres were struggling to devour one another.

It was a thunderous clash.

And yet Clea’s sphere was far larger.

Worse still, it continued expanding with time, placing Frey at an ever-growing disadvantage.

"You cannot defeat me."

"Despite all the extraordinary talent you were born with, you rejected the path I laid before you and chose to squander your gifts like a fool."

"And now look at you."

Clea’s eyes remained fixed upon him.

"Struggling against my Aether inside your own world."

Slowly but steadily, Frey was driven backward.

His Aura dimmed beneath his mother’s pressure.

Although the nature of the power they wielded was nearly identical, the difference in raw strength between them was enormous.

"You try so desperately to appear calm and cold on the outside, like someone who carefully calculates every step he takes."

"But in truth, you’re weak and sentimental."

"You grow attached far too easily to those around you."

Her voice struck him with every step.

"Abandon this world and open your eyes."

"The Land of Survival is nothing more than an illusion you created yourself!"

The battle was utterly one-sided.

Clea had not earned the title of First Writer without reason.

Nor had she been called the strongest without justification.

Frey’s mind conceived a hundred different ways to fight her.

Every single one ended in failure before he could even attempt it.

In less than a minute, Frey’s Aura had been reduced drastically, barely covering a few meters around him, just enough to protect himself and shield the fallen Agaroth behind him.

"This world isn’t an illusion!"

"It is real, every bit as real as ours. My entire future is tied to the Land of Survival, and that is something I know for certain!"

Frey tightened his grip.

"Agaroth cannot die here."

"I’ll save him even if I have to stand against you!"

Frey had no intention of retreating, despite Clea’s overwhelming superiority in Aether.

He understood that he would never win a battle of pure pressure.

So he changed his approach.

Frey withdrew his Aether and compressed it violently until it formed a gleaming gray sword in his hand, violent arcs of concentrated power erupting around its blade like lightning.

But Aether alone was not enough.

He poured a tremendous amount of Aura into the sword as well, forcing the two powers together until the blade took on a strange violet hue that bordered on absolute darkness.

Then Frey swung.

His counterattack came in less than a second.

A blinding slash tore through Clea’s Aura, splitting apart the overwhelming force that had nearly swallowed him whole.

And the strike did not stop there.

It reached Clea herself.

The First Writer blocked the incoming blade with her right forearm, relying solely on the Aether reinforcing her body to withstand the astonishing strike.

And she succeeded.

The blade was stopped.

With a single sweep of her arm, Clea knocked the attack away.

Frey’s slash exploded into the distance after being deflected, failing to cut through her.

Yet Clea’s dark eyes slowly widened in surprise.

Abraham and the others reacted the same way.

Because a single drop of blood fell from her forearm...

And stained the ground red.