THE VILLAIN'S POV

Chapter 672: The Demon King (2)

The Demon King tapped his chest—right where an endless vortex of void churned deep within him.

“To be honest, I once intended to consume you too .. to join you with the rest of them.

But you’re far more useful like this… just as you are now.”

He paused, his crimson gaze dimming slightly.

“I thought something inside me would move when I hurt you like this .. when I saw you broken, ruined, a shadow of what you once were.

But the hollow inside me… it’s deeper, wider than I imagined.

I feel nothing.”

Agaroth sat down in front of her.

“Nothing at all.”

—

Somewhere along his ascent to power .. to becoming the mightiest being in existence.

..

Agaroth had gained much… and lost even more.

That was the curse that accompanied absolute power:

an emptiness so vast only he could comprehend it.

He, the Devourer of All ..

forever consuming, yet never fulfilled.

For a while, he remained in Audrey’s chamber, silently watching her .. the Infinite Core .. before finally leaving, disinterested once again.

He ascended back to the very top of his tower…

The 132nd Floor — The Crimson Sky of Helmond

The uppermost level was open to the burning red heavens, the skyline of Helmond itself serving as its roof.

There, standing at the edge, Agaroth gazed downward.

From his perch, he could see the entire world that lay beneath him ..

the realm that was supposed to be his.

His dominion.

His creation.

Yet he felt nothing for it.

No pride, no belonging. Only a void.

Then, as his solitude stretched on, a familiar presence approached from behind ..

the only one permitted to set foot on the summit and stand before the Demon King face-to-face.

Crimson.

The Red Moon.

The First Seat of the High Demons.

“My King…”

Clad in his Blood Armor, the First Seat stood a short distance behind, his crimson eyes filled with conflicting emotions—

foremost among them: absolute loyalty.

Agaroth chuckled softly.

“You always choose the strangest times to appear before me.”

He stepped away from the edge, his footsteps heavy against the stone floor, until he stood beside Crimson.

Then he extended his hand and rested it upon the First Seat’s chestplate.

“Do these feelings weigh on you, I wonder?”

Crimson said nothing. He couldn’t.

The First Seat was unique .. not merely for his strength, but because he alone among the demons had been allowed to share multiple world-breaking powers with the Demon King.

Yet of all the gifts Agaroth could bestow, Crimson had received the strangest of them all:

Emotion.

The emotions of the Demon King.

His echoes of pain and emptiness.

Through them, Crimson could understand exactly what his King felt ..

the crushing loneliness, the unending silence,

the isolation that came with absolute might.

The solitude of a being unmatched, who could no longer feel,

having ascended to a level no creature could ever reach.

In such moments, Crimson had only one answer.

He raised his weapon .. the King-Slayer Spear ..

and unleashed his full, devastating aura, ready for battle.

And so, atop the tower beneath the red sky of Helmond,

Crimson, the First Seat, challenged his master, Agaroth, the Demon King.

Their clash defied comprehension ..

a thunderous, world-shaking battle that split the heavens and tore the earth below.

Crimson fought with desperate fury,

yearning to stir something .. anything within his King.

To make him feel again.

To remind him of the thrill of battle ..

of what it meant to fight for victory, to fight for life.

He had trained endlessly for that purpose,

pushing his limits beyond comprehension,

reaching a level that rivaled the Great Ones themselves ..

all for him.

He had even created the Red Domain,

the most powerful defensive technique in existence ..

a barrier strong enough to withstand even the Demon King’s might.

Yet in the end…

Beneath the crimson sky, Crimson lay fallen ..

his spear slipping from his hand, his back pressed against the cold ground.

Beside him, Agaroth sat quietly,

dark aura unfurling around him like a black mantle spreading across the earth like roots.

Once again, the outcome was the same as always.

Crimson had lost ..

as he always did ..

every time he came to fight the King, hoping to awaken him.

Perhaps that was Crimson’s greatest regret ..

that he could never grant his King what he desired most:

the feeling of being alive again.

A being so powerful that nothing in existence could challenge him.

And yet, bound to a warrior who worshiped him so completely

that his entire existence was devoted to serving one man.

Agaroth sat silently beside his fallen First Seat,

his mind wandering into the depths of memory once more.

“When was it, I wonder…

the last time I truly felt my life in danger?”

The first thing that surfaced was the battle against Nameless ..

the heat, the struggle, the ecstasy of combat.

That had been the pinnacle, without question.

But it wasn’t the only memory.

“Hah… I’m losing myself.

Living in the past more than the present.”

When was the last time he had truly stood on the brink of death?

“Against Nameless? Against my brothers?

Or perhaps… when we all united against that filthy one?”

Each answer was correct in its own way.

But could such a battle ever happen again ..

for someone like him now?

He looked toward the horizon, his crimson eyes burning brighter.

“Go, Crimson… pave the way.”

The Demon King’s voice reverberated through the sky.

A moment later, his eyes blazed with terrifying light,

and even Crimson .. who had faced death itself countless times ..flinched at the sight.

“Prepare the path… until I break free from this prison.”

“And when I finally leave Helmond…”

Agaroth’s aura surged like a storm.

“…let the world know that the end has come.”

The Great Ones.

The Pantheon.

The Bearers of Light.

No matter the race or realm ..

They had all forgotten what it meant to stand against Agaroth.

And the Demon King intended to remind them ..

in a way no living creature would ever forget.