THE VILLAIN'S POV

Chapter 564: Let Him Play

Aiming at the waterfall of holy power, darkness welled from Frey Starlight’s blade.

With a sweep of his sword, he unleashed a colossal cleave that soared hundreds of meters, banking on shaking the waterfall apart.

Frey’s full-force strike scattered the holy-aura waters in all directions, and the ground quaked violently.

The attack was overwhelming—neither Snow nor Aegon could have done any better.

An attack like that should’ve been enough not just to split the waterfall, but to obliterate it entirely...

Yet none of that came to pass. True, Dark Sister’s blow sent turbulent ripples coursing across the surface of the waterfall of holy power, but it soon resumed its flow as if nothing had happened—swallowing Frey’s starlight whole.

Stunned, Frey stared at his sword, then back at the falls in turn.

”I wasn’t playing around here... did that thing actually block my strike?”

The waterfall hadn’t seemed man-made, but Frey had never once expected that a blow carrying his full might wouldn’t even make it tremble...

’What now? Am I supposed to hit it with Nameless Judgement or something?’

Frey scowled, seriously considering erasing the waterfall with the strongest weapon in his arsenal—but Aegon stepped in to stop him.

”This isn’t the right way to handle it, Frey. This is supposed to be a door—a magical pass-through. To pass, we need a key. Otherwise, even if you destroy it, that won’t open the way.”

In other words, Frey might manage to destroy the falls with his strongest strike, but all that would accomplish was destroying the path—not opening it.

”So you’re saying we’re forced to hunt for the key now, after finally finding the door?”

”That’s how it is.”

Having found the passage, they were back to square one—until Aegon pointed out something else that changed the equation.

”If our assumption is right, the Church’s entire force is on the other side... which likely means the method of entry is simpler than it looks. Maybe you only need to belong to the Church.” Aegon spoke, and Frey answered at once:

”Or carry something that ties you to it.”

At that moment, both of them turned toward Snow Lionheart. Snow traded looks with them for a few seconds, raising a brow.

”What?” he asked—then realized what they meant.

”Ah... I see.”

Snow extended his hand, revealing the sacred blade, Vermithor.

”If what it takes is proof of one’s bond to the Church to enter, I doubt there’s anything better than Vermithor—the holy sword granted by the Lord of Light Himself.”

What lent even more weight to the theory was the strange glow that rippled across the waterfall’s surface in response to Vermithor—proving it was the key.

”So? Do I just stick my sword into the falls like a key, or what?”

There wasn’t any keyhole to begin with, so that didn’t seem like the answer.

”Just release some of the blade’s holy power into the waterfall. I think that’ll do it,” Aegon said, and Snow nodded, stepping forward.

”Let’s try it, then.”

Holding his sword before the falls, Snow poured a considerable amount of holy power into it—and the instant he did, the ground trembled beneath their feet, and the waterfall’s surface shuddered.

”Immediate effect...”

The response was instantaneous, and a passage opened within the waterfall—a strange gateway formed entirely of holy power.

Oddly, the passage pierced the very void, carving a path that broke space and time; it didn’t lead to the other side of the waterfall at all...

But to somewhere else entirely.

”The Church really was hiding a lot,” Aegon murmured, as Snow turned to him, Frey at his side.

”Stay close to me when we go in. This place seems to reject anyone who doesn’t carry the key.”

Following him, Frey and Aegon kept near Snow as the three of them stepped onto the road shaped by holy power.

The path trembled as they went, holy tendrils creeping across the ground and through the walls toward Frey and Aegon—only to calm the moment they neared Snow.

They seemed especially agitated toward Aegon; he drew the fiercest resistance.

”This tunnel can pinpoint impurity with precision. No wonder it’s drawn to you,” Frey said to the prince, who chuckled lightly.

”Don’t forget you’re getting your fair share of attention too.”

Aegon wasn’t wrong; Frey drew some resistance as well—but it was paltry compared to what Aegon faced.

Whatever the prince was hiding, it clearly wasn’t in harmony with holy power.

Demonic aura, maybe? Frey wondered, keeping his eye on the prince the entire time.

Holy power springs from the Bearers of Light, the antithesis of demons.

In other words, demonic aura is exactly what would send holy power into such agitation.

That gave Frey a few hints, though for now they were only wild inferences.

The entity backing Aegon... might be a demon.

The possibility was there, and Frey connected the dots.

The prince had never left his thoughts—not even now, when the three of them were about to clash with the Church. Frey kept prioritizing him above everything else.

As they walked upon the luminous ground of holy power, time itself seemed to slow around Frey while he pondered the prince’s truth:

If the entity behind Aegon is a demon, it would be one of immense power—one whose abilities could reveal my secret.

Aegon had spoken his name—his true name from his previous life.

And the only demon who had ever uttered that name was the Demon King... Agaroth himself.

The latter possesses an eye that can behold fate itself... He can discern the past, the present, and the future of those he gazes upon. This is the King’s Eye—a world-breaking power that toys with fate itself.

Beside Agaroth, there is another demon who wields the very same ability.

The demon whose name had been circling around Frey of late—the one the Engineer warned him about.

Perhaps it was the very entity that whispered into Aegon’s ear and told him his name—the malign being that whispers to all humankind and manipulates them from behind the curtain.

Connecting the dots, Frey drew close to a conclusion.

He had no proof, nothing to guarantee his thoughts were right—but this was the most logical inference he could reach.

The demon backing Aegon... the one who gave him my name—and perhaps other weapons hidden up his sleeve...

’The Fourth Seat... Wesker.’

The moment this possibility surfaced in his mind, Frey’s eyes gradually darkened, as he smothered the killing intent gnawing at his heart.

’I’ll watch a little longer.’

Staring at Aegon’s back, Frey wore a thoroughly frightening expression.

’I’ll let him play it his way... then finish it my way.’

From the beginning, Frey had made Aegon swear to tell him the truth once the war ended—an Aura Contract the prince entered.

Likewise, Frey had entered an Aura Contract stating he would fight in this war at Aegon’s side and would do him no harm.

But what Aegon didn’t know was that Aura Contracts no longer worked on Frey at all.

’The first time I entered an Aura Contract was three years ago—right after my reincarnation...’

Back then, he made it with Ada. Since that time, Shadow Attunement had already grasped the inner workings of that contract.

And now, after Frey opened the third stage of Shadow Attunement—the stage that let him manipulate aura with absolute freedom—he had become capable of nullifying the inevitability bound to Aura Contracts.

In other words—

’I can kill him.’

Frey played obedient, presenting himself as utterly beaten from the moment Aegon spoke his true name.

He let the prince believe he had won completely—that Frey would pose no threat.

No human in recorded history had ever been able to annul an Aura Contract.

In other words, Aegon Valerion truly believed he was safe now.

’I’ve been dancing to others’ tunes for far too long. Countless entities have toyed with me, trying to make me do their bidding.’

It was the curse of Frey’s life.

Aegon Valerion was attempting the same—manipulating him and leading him into a trap.

But things were no longer the same.

’I’m not the naïve fool you can push around so easily anymore.’

As the three of them walked within the tunnel of holy power, Frey quietly wove his counterplan, deliberately keeping his head lowered.

’Enjoy your victory, Aegon—and the false safety you crafted for yourself. Keep walking just like that... and ready your neck.’

’Because you won’t know when you’ll lose it.’

Mastering himself—and the killing intent within him—Frey steadied his breath and schooled his body and features with meticulous control, hiding his true intent.

Thus, Frey and his companions finally reached the tunnel’s end, setting foot for the first time in the land where their enemies had hidden—

the land erased from the history books, the safe haven of the Lord of Light’s followers:

Noctherra, the lost city swallowed by eternal night.