From the embrace of death, blood and ruin.
A crimson butterfly wove its threads around Snow and Frey.
In those few fleeting moments of the battle ..amid the war Frey felt a strange warmth flood his body... a gentle warmth that stirred a longing in his chest.
The butterfly’s crimson filaments crawled through his veins and coiled around his heart. They were comfortable, really warm.
Although a foreign power had taken hold of his body, Frey welcomed that aura and let it move through him without conscious thought.
It felt, somehow, as if it had always belonged to him.
"I won’t lose you this time..."
Her voice whispered inside his Soul, and Frey heard it clearly.
He didn’t recognize the voice at all... and yet it felt painfully familiar.
The final clash with Wesker had been utterly despairing; for a moment Frey had truly thought he would lose everything.
Neither his strength nor Snow’s had sufficed.
But life had not completely forsaken him in the abyss.. there was still a glimmer of light, a last chance to survive and fight.
In that warm instant, Frey’s heart beat again, and a red light cut through the darkness inside his world.
Alone there in the void, the butterfly scattered its magic until it reached Frey, hovering before him slowly and calmly.
At that moment he felt the auras sweep his body and spare him from the worst.
At first he thought he was hallucinating in the throes of death, but he wasn’t that foolish ..he soon realized this was reality.
"Who... are you?" Frey asked, reaching for the butterfly.
"Why do you seem familiar? And why... do I feel you so distant despite your closeness?" he added, trying to understand what was happening.
The butterfly’s form dissipated at once, turning into a spray that coalesced into a misty figure ..a strange woman Frey had never seen.
"There’s no time, Frey... you must wake now," the woman said, her voice engraving itself into Frey’s mind as she placed her hand over his chest.
"Wake up ..the battle isn’t over."
Her touch pushed Frey’s body out of the void; an invisible force dragged him back to the world.
Gasp!
On the battlefield, Frey’s back slammed into the ground. He leapt up and drew a ragged breath.
He breathed painfully, heat and pressure filling his chest; his eyes flared red, and when he clenched his fists, strength surged back into him.
"My aura... returned?"
Magically, the aura reservoir that Frey had completely drained by overusing the Black-Hole Aura had been replenished. When he tightened his fist, raw power burst forth.
It was a miracle.
Frey didn’t linger on himself; he spun, remembering his friend lying nearby.
"Snow!!"
He turned frantically ..Snow had been on the brink of death, and Frey had failed to save him before. The thought of losing him had wounded Frey deeply. Snow had been like a brother; he couldn’t bear to lose him.
But the horrible vision Frey feared had not occurred. Instead, Snow sat beside him, pushing his upper body up and staring at Frey in bewilderment, unable to believe he was still alive.
"Frey...I .." Snow managed, then stumbled. Frey caught him immediately, preventing him from falling.
Holding him tightly, Frey felt Snow’s strength and aura clearly ..his friend had recovered.
"Am I dreaming... haha... I’m still alive, Frey," Snow said, astonished at his own survival.
Wesker had devastated him; Snow had tasted death. Yet fate had decreed otherwise, and the White Knight of the land lived another day.
"Yes... you’re alive. We’re not finished yet."
On the battlefield, Frey and Snow rose again.
They were wounded and exhausted, but the strange aura that had appeared from nowhere had revived them.
"We can fight again," Frey said, releasing Balerion and the Dark Sister once more, while Snow drew the Vermithor.
"What’s the situation? Where’s Wesker?" Snow asked, still unsure of what had happened. Frey wasn’t much better informed ..only that someone had intervened and confined Wesker, and that for now their only enemies were the Ultras: Beatrice, Belith, Simon Manus, Mergo, and many others.
"Let’s deal with the enemies in front of us first," Frey said, ready to return to the fray and annihilate them.
Before they could move, a deafening explosion shook the area nearby: the void itself fractured like breaking glass .. the field that Adyr with the long arms had cast was destroyed.
At that moment everyone saw the ferocious battle that had been raging inside the field.
Thousands of thunderous explosions, clouds of clashing aura, and projectiles smashing into one another while two monsters fought up close, tearing each other apart.
And then his voice echoed clearly for everyone to hear.
"Hahaha!!! Adyr!! You can’t beat me!!" Wesker shouted as his body flared with dark aura, assaulting Adyr who was matching him blow for blow.
Adyr, the long-armed man, looked strange and terrible: dozens of hands sprouted from his elongated arms, letting him manipulate aura and wield multiple combat styles simultaneously with each hand.
"You will not leave this place victorious, Wesker. This land still has much to offer."
Adyr roared, conjuring a vortex of aura that swallowed every strike Wesker hurled.
Wesker answered by summoning four colossal black giants, their heights dwarfing mountains. They swung their massive blades, shattering the vortex in a single sweep.
But in the next instant, Adyr raised hundreds of enormous aura blades that ripped through the void, tearing the giants apart in a storm of destruction.
The battle was chaos incarnate. Unlike his fight against Snow and Frey, Wesker was now fighting seriously, unleashing his full strength.
Originally, Frey and Snow were prepared to strike at the Ultras, but the shattering of Adyr’s domain made them hesitate.
"That damned demon is still here... and he still has plenty of power left," Frey muttered.
Even without the King’s Eye, Wesker was still overwhelmingly strong.
"But... we might have a chance if we join forces with him."
Adyr. He had been able to restrain Wesker. Frey saw this as a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to strike and kill the wretched demon.
He and Snow were far from being at their peak, but they could at least deal damage.
Snow nodded instantly. He had been thinking the same thing.
But before either of them could move to support Adyr...
They both heard that voice again.
"Do not fight him. You are not his match. Not yet."
"That voice..." Snow’s eyes widened at the familiar echo, while Frey fell silent.
It was the same voice that spoke to him earlier in his mind.
The voice of the one who had saved them from certain death.
"A warrior of the Shadow Sect cannot defeat Wesker. He can only restrain him, and only for a while."
Adyr was strong, but his vessel was damaged. He could not exert his full strength. Even if Frey and Snow aided him, victory was not guaranteed.
In fact, it was unlikely.
That was the warning she was trying to deliver.
"Wesker is not a fool. A Rank 4 Demon who has lived since ancient times will not be cornered easily."