THE VILLAIN'S POV

Chapter 742: Beyond Redemption (1)

A hell of blood .. and walking corpses piled upon one another, stretching their arms in despair, desperately trying to cling to the feet of a single man.

Here, within this hell, those twisted, deformed faces reached for Frey in futile desperation, while he had no choice but to flee .. climbing higher and higher, trying to reach the summit far away from them.

The corpses did not relent. One after another, they climbed atop each other until an entire mountain was formed—a sight ripped straight from hell itself.

All of this unfolded before Nameless, who watched in silence. His face remained hidden behind that cold mask of his, leaving no way to discern what he truly felt... nor how deeply Frey Starlight’s emotions affected him.

Frey, on the other hand, fled in sheer panic, unable to comprehend what was happening.

”What are all these monsters, damn it?! How did this place turn into a sea of blood?!”

This place was supposed to be his safe haven .. separated from everything outside.

Yet even that sanctuary had now shattered, and hell had erupted from beneath it without warning.

”You said you wanted power, didn’t you?” Nameless replied, standing nearby.

”Then here it is. This is the power you seek—resting in your hands... or rather, beneath your feet.”

”What are you talking about?! How is this nonsense supposed to help me in any way?!” Frey shouted as he tried desperately to pull away from the corpses clinging to him.

Twisted, filthy faces .. no sane mind could endure staring at them for long.

”Do you not recognize them, Frey Starlight?” Nameless asked. His voice echoed faintly, nearly swallowed by the savage wailing and screams of those abominations.

Yet Frey heard him clearly.

”I’ve never seen these things in my life,” Frey replied, hurling the corpses away one after another .. throwing them from the edge of the mountain itself... the mountain of bodies.

”I expected you to say that,” Nameless responded calmly.

”Each of them died in less than a second by your sword. You never even spared them a glance.”

Amid the infernal roar, Nameless’s words fell upon Frey like ice-cold water .. forcing a horrifying realization.

”You mean...”

Nameless nodded.

”They are your victims .. no one else, Frey Starlight.”

The corpses continued to pile endlessly atop one another.

Frey did not understand what was happening—so Nameless explained.

”The Sixth Stage of Shadow Adaptation is a unique ability tied to the Law of Life and Death. There is something important you must know about me, Frey Starlight.”

”In the distant past, I was capable of manipulating souls .. storing them and reviving them through vessels I created myself. But that only applied to those who did not die by my own hand .. those who perished by external causes beyond my involvement.”

Nameless slowly sat at the summit Frey had been desperately trying to reach, continuing calmly:

”Those who die by my hand are different. The moment someone dies by me, they go nowhere. Their soul finds no rest, no release .. it remains imprisoned within me, suffering endlessly.”

”The Sixth Stage of Shadow Adaptation is the power I derive by burning the souls of everyone I have ever killed.”

Frey’s eyes widened in shock.

”Burning their souls is the complete consumption of their existence .. every fragment of what they were, down to the very last drop. They burn slowly within me, until nothing remains... transforming into power I wield against my enemies.”

Soul-burning was similar to what Abraham Starlight had done in the distant past—when he ignited his own soul and entered that transcendent state.

But Nameless did this with countless souls .. all in pursuit of power that surpassed imagination itself.

”This ability was designed first and foremost to confront the Demon King. It is the only force capable of opposing his Devouring ability.”

The Sixth Stage of Shadow Adaptation granted the greatest surge of power, as it scaled directly with the number of lives taken by its bearer.

It was a unique ability .. one directly tied to the Path of Blood.

”Now, the same principle applies to you—because you possess the same power as I do. In other words...”

Nameless gestured below.

”These deformed corpses wailing beneath your feet are the souls of everyone you have personally killed so far.”

Upon hearing that bitter truth ..

Frey lowered his head once more.

This time, he did not see monsters.

He did not see corpses.

He saw people.

Men.

Women.

Even demons.

No exceptions.

Every living being he had slain was imprisoned there—forever—awaiting consumption.

And their emotions had not faded.

Their agony.

Their screams.

Their suffering.

All of it was hurled at Frey at once.

An infinite hatred .. so intense he felt it clearly, like countless blades stabbing into him from every direction.

In the past, Nameless had slaughtered astronomical numbers of living beings across countless races. Frey had assumed it was merely for his twisted experiments.

But thinking about it now... three or four corpses would have sufficed for experimentation.

Yet Nameless had exterminated millions each time.

The reason was clear now.

He did it to acquire the power that placed him above all others—to stand face-to-face with the Demon King himself.

Nameless possessed no emotions. He was never affected by the cries of the dead, never burdened by guilt for their torment.

He could walk over their corpses, use them as fuel to stoke his flames .. perfectly, flawlessly.

But what about Frey?

Whether he wished it or not, Frey still had emotions.

No matter how cold he became... they were still there.

He could still feel.

He could still feel everything.

Could any sane mind endure such a hell?

A hell where countless tortured souls cursed you into madness.

Everything within that sea of blood were people Frey had killed himself.

Far fewer than Nameless once had.

And yet ..

It was more than enough to make Frey feel as though his head was about to explode, as those agonized screams tore through his mind.

The voices .. ones that had been sealed away until now .. finally broke through the moment Frey awakened the Sixth Stage of Shadow Adaptation.

The pressure was overwhelming, inhuman—so severe that, in the real world, Frey collapsed to one knee without realizing it, clutching his head as he struggled to breathe.

”Their voices... their screams... their suffering... everything is crystal clear inside my mind...”

”They curse me .. every single one of them.

They curse me... and at the same time, they beg me... to free them from this torment...”

Frey clenched his teeth as he finally experienced what it meant to have tens of thousands of tortured souls screaming inside his head at once.

Even so, he forced himself back onto his feet .. slowly, painfully.

”This is power befitting a demon... not a king,” Frey muttered, his voice laced with hatred.

”Anyone who uses something like this will never find salvation .. no goodness will ever come from their life.

The end awaiting those who rely on such power will never be merciful...

How could someone who tortures so many souls—before and after death—ever hope for redemption?”

No matter how he looked at it, Frey understood one undeniable truth:

This ability was absolute evil .. the purest definition of monstrosity.

Life and death were meant to be a cycle, a law established by nature since the dawn of existence.

Yet Nameless had shattered that cycle—trampled over it—turning the souls of others into tools at his disposal.

”This is unforgivable...

There is no forgiveness for you. No one will ever forgive you.”

Still clutching his head, Frey forced himself to endure.

”And there will be no forgiveness for me either... since I’m walking the same path.”

His eyes gradually darkened .. the gaze of someone who had accepted his fate.

”Maybe I haven’t killed as many as you did...

But the number of souls that died by my hands is far from small.”

Even if he hadn’t known ..

Even if he never realized those souls would be trapped inside him, suffering endlessly, never finding release ..

Frey stood up again and lifted his gaze.

Before him lay the battlefield—where Amon faced Gehrman and Abraham.

Right now, Frey needed power.

Power to save those who were still alive.

Power to ensure he didn’t lose anyone else close to him.

”Even if it means using this power...

Even if it means stepping over their corpses .. so be it. I’ll bear it.”

Slowly...

Frey took his first step.

Then the second.

Then the third.

All while enduring the savage wails and infinite rage echoing through his mind.

”I’ll become a monster if I have to.

As long as I gain the power I need, I’ll endure.

As long as I’m the one who pays the price in the end .. I’ll do it.”

Frey knew this ability would erase the last remnants of his humanity.

And yet... he chose to move forward.

He knew people like him would never find salvation.

That the hatred and rage of the dead would likely drag him toward an end even more horrific than the way they themselves had died.

But Frey didn’t hesitate.