THE VILLAIN'S POV

Chapter 499: Path of Blood (3)

Frey greeted her with a smile.

“Uriel. I didn’t expect you to join me. Shouldn’t the Saintess be chasing after the prophesied hero?” he asked.

Uriel nodded.

“You’re not wrong. The Saintess does follow the hero…

And that’s exactly what Yurasha is doing.

There’s no need for two saintesses, so I chose this side instead.”

“I see,” Frey nodded, walking alongside her toward the army’s front lines.

“Your presence will be a great support for the troops. Just stay behind me and try to keep up.”

His words made Uriel blink, surprised by his strange demeanor.

“Frey… am I imagining it, or are you actually excited?”

That eerie grin carved across Frey’s face didn’t seem natural..

And he himself appeared unaware of it.

Trying to adjust his expression, he offered a soft apology.

“Sorry. That was… unseemly of me.”

Uriel quickly waved her hands.

“Not at all. No need to apologize ..

It’s only natural for warriors to fight for those they love.”

She tried to justify his behavior with kindness.

But Frey chuckled bitterly.

“You’re right.

Still, I didn’t want to show you that side of me.

You’ve been avoiding me lately because of it… haven’t you?”

His words made her face twist in visible surprise, Before transforming into something else .. A quiet confusion.

’Was I the only one who saw it…?’

Uriel had genuinely believed that Frey shared the same strange vision.

She’d been waiting for the right moment to talk to him about it.

It had taken her time to overcome the fear that gripped her heart—

After all, she’d seen herself die by his hand.

But it seemed…

He hadn’t even realized it.

Which made her question what kind of power it truly was.

Still ..

There was no time to dwell on that now.

Clearing this misunderstanding was her priority.

“…That’s not why I was avoiding you,” she said.

Frey raised an eyebrow.

He truly believed Uriel had grown to hate his bloodlust.

“If that’s not the reason…

Then why?” he asked, genuinely curious.

But Uriel shook her head.

“I can’t talk about it here.

If you’re willing, after our next battle…

Please give me a little of your time.

I’ll tell you everything then.”

Uriel had already made up her mind to tell him everything.

She saw no point in keeping it to herself anymore.

But she couldn’t bring it up here, not in the midst of the army. They were about to march into enemy territory, and Frey was their commander. She couldn’t pull him aside.. all they could do was wait.

“After the battle, then.”

Frey’s smile deepened.

“Then we both have to survive. Is this your way of asking me to protect you, Uriel?”

Frey misunderstood again, which made Uriel part her lips, trying to clarify … but he suddenly burst out laughing, cutting her off.

“No need to make that face, I’m only teasing. Besides… I was planning to do that anyway.”

There was no need for her to ask .. he simply wouldn’t let her die.

Frey was direct like that, and Uriel found herself at a loss for words.

In moments like this, he felt like the older one .. not the other way around.

The Saint Candidate lowered her head, seemingly lost in her own thoughts, eyes drifting to the shadows spreading beneath her feet.

That darkness reminded her of something.

“Will that demon girl be joining us?”

Frey turned to her, following her gaze to the shadows below.

“You mean Sansa? Yes, she’s with us as we speak.”

It wasn’t easy to sense Sansa’s presence, but Frey had no trouble with it.

Seeing Uriel’s grim expression, Frey sighed, well aware of her deep hatred for demons.

“Sansa is an ally. And someone dear to me… Uriel, I want you to trust her.”

It was a rare request coming from Frey, but Uriel gave no reply. And he didn’t push her. He already knew her past.

Still, he wanted to plant the seed — perhaps one day, Uriel could come to accept the demon who walked among them.

Frey and Uriel couldn’t talk much longer. The noise of marching soldiers, the thunder of war drums, and the trembling earth beneath them drowned out everything else.

As Iris Sunlight ignited the air with a rousing speech, the troops roared in unison, ready to launch the first assault of this war.

Unfortunately, Frey paid the old man’s speech little attention and missed it entirely…

His focus was drawn entirely to what stood ahead of him.

As he looked toward what was coming, Frey was caught off guard by the approach of a large figure from the right flank.

A towering man, scarred and rugged, with reddish-brown hair tucked beneath a dented helmet.

A massive greatsword was strapped to his back, and his merciless eyes gleamed with something unsettling.

“You…”

Frey recognized him immediately.

One of the eight who had chosen to follow Frey to the bitter end.

“So you still remember me. I’m honored… Lord Starlight.”

With a grim, gravelly voice that made many avoid him instinctively, the man introduced himself.

“My name is Morval Nox. A lone mercenary who’s spent his life wandering through warzones.”

A twisted smile curled across Morval’s face .. one eerily similar to Frey’s own.

“Morval, huh? That’s quite the bloodlust radiating from your body…”

Hearing that, Morval let out a loud, guttural laugh.

“Isn’t it obvious, Lord Starlight? That’s precisely why I chose to follow you.”

“Oh? And how so?” Frey asked, though he already had a feeling.

“I won’t lie to you, Lord Starlight…

I’m here to kill. I want to tear and spill the blood of as many people as I can. I’ve spent my whole life drifting from battlefield to battlefield for that reason alone.”

Morval looked exhilarated. It was clear he wasn’t a normal human being.

He was… wrong — in a way that made him love the act of carving through flesh.

“By your side, Lord Starlight, I feel I’ll finally be able to satisfy that hunger .. the hunger for slaughter.”

Morval laughed again, so loudly and violently that the soldiers around him instinctively stepped farther away.

He was already infamous.

Not a warrior who fought for kin or country .. but a mad butcher who found his purpose in carnage and ruin.

There, and only there, could he be his true self.

One could argue he was more wicked than the Ultras themselves…

He had a dark history.

Frey knew all this .. and yet, he showed no disapproval.

In fact, he welcomed it.

“Excellent, Morval Knox. Then prepare to stain your hands in blood… because we won’t be sparing anyone.”

With that, he moved to the frontlines and surged forward.

Moments later, the first assault force scorched its way into enemy soil .. under his lead and no one else’s.

The scouts and assassins had already returned, and Frey now knew the position of many of his enemies.

And he had made up his mind:

He would kill them all .. to the very last one.