THE VILLAIN'S POV

Chapter 530: Till the Last Breath (2)

’I’ve reached my peak.

There’s no path left for me to grow stronger.

Only the path of blood remains.’

’This body I’ve sculpted to perfection...

My mind, my reflexes, honed through countless battles between life and death...’

’The superhuman talents that once placed me above my peers...

All of my struggle...

All of my suffering that’s led me to this moment ... ’

Let me see just how far it can all take me.

”Against you, Dragoth...

The one who stands at the peak of humanity!”

Unfazed by pain.

Unbothered by anything his opponent could throw at him.

Frey endured.

Not once did his back touch the ground.

’Have I ever, even once in this life...

Lived without something being stolen from me?’

’Has this life ever given me anything I could point to and say, with certainty, that I lived with pride?’

’No. I’ve stopped expecting anything good from this life.’

’I’m tired of suffering...

Of being powerless to change a damn thing.’

’And I know it all too well—

That more horrors await me if I keep walking down this path.’

Under a sky that flashed with relentless fury...

And a ground that trembled in mourning...

Frey faced the very same monster his father had once faced.

And in that moment, time itself slowed.

His mind sank deeper and deeper into the abyss of his own soul.

So many scars had shaped the person he had become.

And he already knew...

His suffering was just entertainment—

A play for the onlookers watching from the dark.

’I wonder... what kind of faces do they make when they witness my downfall?’

’Do they laugh at my pain?

Mock me?

Or just sit there, silently enjoying the show?’

’If that’s the case... then good for them.’

Little by little...

Frey’s aura intensified.

His strikes grew more vicious... more savage.

And Dragoth, over time, began to lose his edge.

His opponent was matching him evenly now ..

Landing devastating blows.

”From this point forward...

I’ll show you a completely different kind of performance.”

There was no longer any point in resisting the current.

No point in fighting the script others had written for him.

Instead, Frey chose a different game entirely.

For the first time...

He swam with the current, not against it.

He embraced the desires of whoever had pushed him from the shadows.

But instead of delivering more suffering and despair ..

Frey revealed something else altogether.

A glimpse of madness.

Savage bloodlust.

A craving for death.

He became a broken man,

A warrior who didn’t fear death ..

But opened his arms to it, welcoming it with joy.

”Victory... or death.”

He wouldn’t let others die before him anymore.

On the battlefield ..

He would be the first to receive whatever hell the enemy had in store.

He would fight ..

No matter who the opponent was.

Even if they surpassed him by far.

He would stand ..

Against whatever life hurled at him..

Until the very end.

If he won, that was fine.

If he lost and died...

That was fine too.

After all, it would be a merciful end..

One he didn’t believe he deserved in the first place.

Strangely...

Amid the vortex of destruction...

Amid the chaos and ruin of his battle against Dragoth...

Frey felt peace.

A profound calmness drew his awareness away.

Despite the shredded, blood-soaked wreck of his body...

He felt... at ease.

As if something had plucked him out of existence...

And pulled him into darkness.

He was no longer on the battlefield.

Dragoth was gone.

Frey found himself inside a void of shadows ..

A familiar emptiness that stirred feelings of nostalgia and longing.

Before him...

A simple campfire burned gently, casting its light across the blackness.

Its warmth eased the weight in his chest.

Around it...

Several figures sat quietly beside him, their eyes all drawn to the dancing flames.

The darkness had hidden their faces,

Leaving only faint, fragmented outlines visible in the glow.

”Did you reach your limits this quickly?”

Asked the person sitting to Frey’s right, staring at him with a warm smile.

”Not at all... this is only the beginning,” Frey replied with a laugh ..only to be cut off immediately by another voice.

”That’s an obvious lie. You only come to this place when you’re broken.”

A third figure nodded in agreement.

”You can’t lie to us, Frey. In the end... we are you.”

At that moment, the campfire flared up violently, casting more light around it ..light that finally revealed the faces of everyone present.

Everyone around that fire... looked exactly the same.

All of them were Frey.. but from different timelines and distant moments.

The current Frey chuckled lightly, placing a hand on his chest.

”To be honest... it’s getting harder with every battle. With every soul my sword reaps... I feel like I lose a part of myself. I no longer know what I’ll become once this is over.”

Lowering his head with a faint smile and tired eyes, Frey spoke in a quiet voice:

”Maybe I’ve reached my limit. Maybe I’ve run out of strength to carry on... perhaps that’s why I came here—hoping one of you would take my place.”

He laughed at himself, while most of those present averted their gaze.

”That’s impossible. You are the strongest among us... the only one who can bear this path,” said one of the Freys, specifically the one who had won the Victoriad. Many others nodded in agreement.

Among them, Frey the writer—the one who lived a peaceful life—spoke while poking the fire with a thin stick.

”You are our strongest self. The version we created to bear what we couldn’t.”

”I know this is cruel ..perhaps the cruelest kind of pain, one even worse than everything before... but you’ll endure it,” said the white-haired Frey who had endured the time loops in Londor.

The current Frey just laughed quietly, covering his face with his right hand.

”This is horrible. Am I just a monster you throw all your fears at? All your pain? Do you expect me to keep fighting, bearing all your burdens—you, who gave up halfway?”

”That’s right,” answered the one just before the current version ..Frey, who had been forced to kill Danzo with his own hands.

”That’s why we created you—to be the monster that slaughters our enemies. To be the one who teaches them... the meaning of the terror they made us taste.”

”You are the product of everything we’ve sacrificed until now... and every sin we’ve committed in our cursed life,” added another version.

”So keep fighting. Fight until your back breaks. Until your enemies’ corpses form mountains, and their blood floods the seas. Fight... until death finally claims you, and this dark tale is given an ending.”

”You are that kind of monster... so act like it. That is your truth.”

Burdened with the wishes and wills of all those eyes that had pierced into him ..Frey slowly found himself returning to reality.

Behind the Nameless mask, his mouth opened slightly, showing a hint of confusion and surprise ..only to twist into a smile.

”...Ah. I remember now,” he muttered slowly, returning to the chaotic battlefield against Dragoth.

In that moment, his long white hair flew upward, and his pale skin cracked—revealing purple serpents slithering across it.

His face tore open, and dozens of aura veins burst from his eyes. His mouth split, exposing a smile dripping with madness.

”I am the monster forged by this cruel world.”