The hymns of war shook the very foundations of an entire continent.
Millions of monsters—
against thousands of humans.
If there were words capable of describing such a conflict, they would all manifest in blood.
Endless blood.
Filth.
And ruin.
The demons were powerful—relentless creatures that neither tired nor slowed.
The primal demons that came from Helmond were the very definition of monstrosities.
Gray-skinned beings with warped bodies, long horns, and stretched wings.
Sunken dark eyes.
Terrifying features.
Yet even they were not the worst part of the equation.
The true horror...
were the Ultras, twisted by the Demon Seed.
How many humans from the Empire had already perished at their hands?
A single swing of those mutated limbs was enough to detonate human bodies ...
intestines and organs scattering across the battlefield, painting the ground red without end.
In terms of individual strength, the transformed Ultras army far surpassed ordinary human soldiers.
The elites of the Empire and the Shadow Sect compensated for that gap ...
each one of them slaughtering hundreds at a time.
Even so...
the balance tilted toward the demons.
The decisive factor was simple.
Maskith had injected Demon Seeds into every Ultra—warriors and civilians alike.
An entire race had been turned into weapons of war.
In contrast, the Empire had entered the battlefield with only the remnants of its forces.
Abraham fought ferociously—
decapitating demons, Ultras, and puppets alike with every strike.
The human champions followed closely behind him,
pressing into the demonic ranks, seeking to uncover their secrets—and their strongest warriors.
From above, Snow supported them.
His blade had become a sentence of death for every demon it touched.
And yet despite all of this ...
the war began to take a dreadful turn.
The demons slowly encircled the human army.
Their movements were fast—coordinated with terrifying precision.
Until the humans found themselves fighting at the heart of a dark vortex.
Shadows closed in from every direction.
Gradually—
darkness swallowed everything.
The light of humanity began to fade.
The demonic forces had contained the Empire’s army.
Men were dying at an alarming rate.
All of this was visible to Frey and the others watching from above.
They saw clearly ...
the dark path the battle was taking.
They knew exactly where this would lead.
Yet none of it showed on their faces.
They understood what was happening ...
and accepted it, as though it were inevitable.
Fulghor’s golden eyes studied Frey and Kalameet for a moment,
before returning to the battlefield below.
’At this rate... the human army won’t last even an hour... They’ll all die. Only the strong will remain.’
His prediction was accurate.
If things continued like this,
humanity would be wiped out swiftly—
leaving behind only the strongest:
the ancient human heroes,
the dragon kings under Kalameet,
and Abraham, of course.
Most of these figures had conserved their strength—
especially Abraham, in preparation for the enemy generals.
But that restraint...
would cost them the entire army.
And that outcome—
was within acceptable bounds for Frey.
But he had no intention of letting things end so simply.
"It’s time," Frey said quietly, his gaze shifting toward a particular individual.
Both Fulghor and Kalameet followed his line of sight, curious.
Among the allied Ultras under Mergo ...
a figure stepped forward.
A young man, roughly Frey’s age.
Hair black as coal.
Crimson eyes.
A white mask covering his face.
"Don’t make me regret keeping you alive... V."
As if he had heard those cold words ...
the masked man’s hands trembled around his swords.
The Moonlight blade.
And the claymore.
He was tense.
But he steadied his breath—
and raised his weapons high.
In those fleeting moments, as the demonic army surged toward him,
his mind drifted elsewhere—
to everything that had happened over the past few weeks...
since Frey Starlight had dragged him to the Empire’s side.
It had all begun within the prisons of the Shadow Sect.
V had been thrown there without mercy—
left to await death.
But death never came.
Instead ...
Mergo arrived.
And convinced him to fight alongside the Empire in the coming battle.
The masked V was never as cold as he pretended to be.
The reason he had fought—and obeyed Gavid Lindman in the past—
was simple.
Gavid had held the children of the orphanage V grew up in hostage.
Under Frey’s orders,
Mergo freed the orphanage ...
and brought all the children to the Shadow Sect.
But Frey Starlight had not truly freed them.
He had merely moved them from one prison... to another.
Threatening V with them ..
just as Gavid once had.
"It’s a deal. Nothing more, nothing less."
That was what Frey had told him.
Their safety would be guaranteed.
In exchange...
V would walk through hell.
Because in the days leading up to the battle,
he endured something worse than death itself.
He was forced to fight Frey—every single day.
Frey showed no mercy.
He destroyed him, again and again ...
forcing V to copy him each time,
to expand the limits of the power he could imitate.
All of this was done under Nameless’ guidance—
who had been genuinely surprised to see such an ability in a mere human.
"This human possesses a powerful world-breaking ability... but it is only an inferior imitation of the true power."
Nameless revealed this to Frey—
and told him of an ancient being,
one even Frey himself had never heard of.
It was said to have existed long before even the age of Soul Bearers.
A being of unknown origin.
Unknown race.
All that was known—
was that it was a monster with the mind of a child.
It knew neither good nor evil.
A giant.
A tyrant.
A strange, incomprehensible existence.
And most terrifying of all ...
He possessed the ability to copy the powers of its opponents.
Not an incomplete imitation like V’s...
but a perfect replication.
He could copy abilities, elements ...
even alter the very structure of his own body.
He had been an overwhelming existence—one no one could defeat.
And yet... he vanished from the records of history, lost somewhere within the current of time.
It was said that Agaroth had killed him.
But that was not true.
At least—that was the conclusion Nameless reached.
Because the Demon King would never have ignored such a devastating ability... he would have devoured it without hesitation.
The fate of that being remained unknown.
A story for another time.
For now ...
"This human is merely an inferior imitation... but he will be useful."
Frey was convinced of that.
And so—
he spent countless days fighting V.
Forcing him to copy.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Until the masked man’s power grew tremendously ...
while at the same time, he was pushed to the brink of death.
Because the gap between him and Frey...
was simply overwhelming.
Collapsed at Frey’s feet, trembling like a madman—
Frey finally stopped.
Ending the torment.
"It seems you’ve reached your limit. You won’t be able to copy any further."
When Frey said those words, the two of them stood within a massive crater ...
as though a meteor had struck the earth.
V trembled violently, foam mixed with blood and vomit dripping from his mouth.
Frey paid no attention to his condition.
"To be honest... the level you’ve reached is barely acceptable after all that copying."
"Pathetic compared to me... but against demons, you’ll be lethal."
He stepped forward slowly ..
his voice turning cold.
A warning—
the very words V now remembered as he stood on the battlefield.
"During the time you were copying me... I could have killed you thousands of times."
"Don’t make me regret it, V."
"Don’t make me regret letting you live."
"Prove your worth... and understand this—if you fail..."
"...even death won’t save you from me."
It was both a warning ...
and a threat.
And despite how extreme his final words sounded—
Frey had not lied.
Even if he died—
V felt certain Frey would bring him back somehow... just to make him pay.
Not to mention ...
the children of the orphanage were entirely in Frey’s hands.
The masked man had become a slave—
forced to obey.
Unwilling ... but without choice.
And so—
V entered the battlefield.
Slowly, dark aura gathered around him.
Black flames ignited across his body, raging violently.
Then, with a single swing of his blade—
he replicated Frey Starlight with terrifying precision.
And overwhelming power.
Through the Moonlight sword ...
he unleashed a wave of aura that surged like a raging ocean, threatening to swallow the entire demonic army.
"Frey Starlight Style: Nameless Judgement!!"
Dark flames erupted—
engulfing demons and mutated Ultras alike in a single devastating sweep.
It was an astonishing display of power.
V became a volcanic force ..
erupting without pause.
He unleashed one sweeping strike after another in every direction—
drowning the battlefield in black inferno.
He was incredibly powerful.
And unlike Abraham and the human champions, who deliberately restrained themselves—
V unleashed everything from the very beginning.
Even if it meant burning himself out.
More and more black flames surged forth—
his aura reaching SSS rank.
He swung his blade like a madman, without pause ...
drawing every gaze toward him.
That explosion of madness...
completely altered the course of the war.
Alone he shattered the encirclement.
He exposed openings in the enemy ranks.
All of it because he had copied a monster beyond comprehension.
And in doing so ..
he became one himself.
Far inferior to the original—
but devastating against such enemies.
V’s rampage tipped the scales once again ..
restoring balance ..
as he annihilated astronomical numbers of enemies on his own.
But it lasted only five minutes.
Five minutes—
in which he unleashed countless Nameless Judgement strikes ..
until his aura ran dry.
His eyes turned white.
Their light faded.
His body convulsed violently .
every bone in his body shattering and breaking apart .
as he collapsed to the ground, his swords falling from his grasp.
Five minutes...
was the absolute limit he could sustain the power of that monster .
Frey Starlight.
The moment V fell .
Mergo appeared beside him.
He caught him, staring down with an expressionless face.
With a single glance ... Mergo understood the extent of the damage.
V’s body had been completely destroyed—
all from attempting to replicate Frey at such intensity.
The result had been extraordinary.
The sea of black flames surrounding them was proof enough ..
he had broken the encirclement alone.
But the cost...
was catastrophic.
His body was ruined beyond repair.
He might never move again for the rest of his life.
All of it—
because of the pressure Frey had forced upon him.
"In such a short time... he pushed him this far..."
Mergo had never seen V fight with such desperation.
Every strike of his blade reflected the deep fear that had taken root within him toward Frey.
Frey had not simply forced him to copy ..
he had tortured him.
Until the young man lost his sanity ..
and erupted into madness ..
achieving exactly the result Frey had intended.
Carrying V away ... Mergo withdrew temporarily, shaken by what he had witnessed.
The only positive outcome was that the Empire could now breathe again.
They could fight on equal footing against the demons once more.
Above—
Frey’s expression did not change.
But overall—
he was satisfied.
His Void eyes glowed faintly as he scanned the battlefield once again.
Dark flames now covered a vast area ..
and an enormous number of demons had perished.
From the damage inflicted ..
Frey knew.
The time was near.
His enemies...
would soon make their move.
And that—
was the moment he had been waiting for.