THE VILLAIN'S POV

Chapter 573: The Gospel of Blood (1)

Gaining strength through the sacrifice of others…

A strange ritual had fallen into the hands of the Church—one that made breaking into higher realms possible, even for someone like Blattier.

His power had now surpassed the SS rank after being trapped there for so long. His light blazed so fiercely he felt as though nothing was beyond his reach.

But his strength came at the cost of thousands of lives—every soul offered up for the sake of this so-called power.

This was the grim Path of Sacrifice discovered by the Church, the very foundation of their rise.

In this vast world, countless paths to power exist—this one, perhaps, the darkest and most tragic of them all.

Blattier was fast, relentless, radiant.

“I sacrificed thousands. I led them to ruin so I could grasp this strength.”

BOOOOM!!!

Explosions rippled one after another as the High Bishop of the Church clashed against the monster called Frey Starlight.

“I’ve grown stronger—far stronger than I ever was!”

With every collision, every strike, old memories rose within Blattier—the days when he bowed his head, humbled himself before others, waiting for the day he would rise again to repay them in kind.

And now, that day had come.

This was meant to be his hour of triumph—the moment when the world would finally see who Joseph Blattier truly was.

The elder who led the Church for generations…

At least, that was what it should have been.

BOOOOOOM!!!

Before the stunned eyes of the Church’s followers, the explosions roared on.

“With this power, I should stand among the strongest in the world… Then why—why in the hell…”

His fists clenched until they bled, his body forced backward, his feet digging into the earth just to remain standing.

Blattier stared in horror at the masked figure before him.

“I should be one of the strongest alive… Then why the hell can he still overwhelm me so easily?!”

BOOOOM!!!

With a single, vicious slash from those cursed black swords, Frey sent Blattier flying, pressing harder with each strike.

“Formation of Blades of Light!!!”

Gathering all his power, Blattier conjured dozens of radiant swords and hurled them at Frey in desperation.

But Frey brushed them aside with ease, never relenting.

“Ten Thousand Steps of Shadow: Supreme Art—Abyssal Wave.”

In less than a fraction of a second, Frey vanished, reappearing behind Blattier in the blink of an eye.

The bishop’s face turned ashen as his body was torn apart by hundreds of violet slashes that shredded him mercilessly.

Blattier forced his sacred power to its limits, healing himself as quickly as he was being cut, clinging to survival by the thinnest thread.

But Frey gave him no chance to breathe.

“Seems you’re the one who doesn’t know his place, Blattier.”

SLASH!!!

Bathed in the glow of Shadow Assimilation, Frey carved him apart again and again.

At first, Blattier seemed able to hold his ground, but within moments, Frey had flipped the battlefield entirely to his favor.

“Damn you! Light Formation!!”

Blattier gathered his power for a new technique—only for time itself to freeze. The world fell silent as though even existence held its breath.

“Skill: Screenshot.”

Frey had stopped time for a single second.

A second was short, but for someone moving at Frey’s speed, it was enough to accomplish plenty.

SLASH!!!

In one swift strike, Frey tore open Plattier’s chest, spilling entrails and organs onto the earth without mercy.

“Ah, you were about to unleash a technique of some sort? I’m sure it would’ve been pathetic anyway… Let’s not waste either of our time.”

BOOOOM!!!

Another ruthless strike sent Blattier crashing across the battlefield.

“What were you even trying to achieve here? Did you really humble yourself for all those years, deceiving thousands of people—for this pitiful scrap of power? Tell me, Blattier…”

Frey’s eyes brimmed with genuine contempt for his opponent.

Blattier, bleeding profusely, finally understood the grave mistake he had made.

Compared to the monster before him, his strength was nothing.

“Followers of the Church!!! Unite your strength against this demon!!!” Blattier screamed in terror. His voice shook the faithful, who rushed toward Frey.

“Whoever sacrifices their life here, heaven shall be their reward! Eternal bliss awaits! Do not hesitate—attack him!!”

He screamed, desperate, rallying them with promises no sane mind should believe.

Frey laughed bitterly at the sight.

“Look at you… this is far beyond blind faith. This is sheer stupidity.”

SLASH!!!

Carving through the zealots like paper, Frey advanced on the fleeing Plattier, who was now running for his life.

“If you are the righteous ones—if I’m the mistaken heretic here—then tell me, followers of the Church…”

Slash!!!

“Why do you die so easily before me? And why does your noble leader flee from me?”

Slash!!!

The angels opened fire; the warriors charged with their weapons—but it was useless.

The battle was completely one-sided.

“I see what you’re doing, Blattier—driving more of your followers to their graves so you can sacrifice them and swell your strength. You’re truly desperate, old man.”

Frey’s swords moved at a mad speed, leaving only exploding violet trails behind.

Blood poured from the Church’s ranks without end as Frey tore through them with his full power.

Blattier ran, leaving a line of blood in his wake.

He tried to retreat.

His followers hurled themselves in Frey’s path to stop him, convinced they were serving their cause.

Platini was locked in his own battle with Snow Lionheart.

In other words, there was no one left to help Blattier.

“I still have a chance! The power of the World Tree is on my side!”

Clinging to his last hope, Blattier rushed toward the sacred tree—toward where Saint Uriel Platini lay.

There lay his final chance.

But everything around Blattier froze when he felt death closing in.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

He heard the voice clearly—a whisper beside his ear.

Realizing how close Frey was, Blattier spun to defend ..

BOOM!!!

Blattier heard a sound… a strange sound…

The sound of an explosion, as sticky things splattered to the ground.

It was odd—until he found himself lying there amid those viscous chunks and the blood soaking everything.

“This is the end.”

With a single thrust, Frey drove Valerion into Blattier’s chest.

The strike was colossal; Balerion looked like a dark meteor from the sheer aura Frey poured into it.

The blow obliterated Blattier’s chest and neck, along with much of his stomach and shoulders.

A monster’s strike, and the High Bishop crashed down, blood spreading everywhere.

The sight was so horrifying that many of the surviving followers lost the very will that had kept them moving.

The butcher of their leader stood there, face hidden behind a strange black mask. He turned toward them.

“Who’s next?”

Simple words—but terror flooded their hearts; they all recoiled at once.

Snow Lionheart was still battling Platini, whose power had swelled through sacrifice—and that, in particular, caught Frey’s eye.

“So the bishops are the only ones benefitting from the power of the dead.”

Swords in hand, Frey prepared to rush over, help Snow, and cut down the second bishop as fast as possible.

That was the plan—

the plan he didn’t carry out, because something utterly unexpected happened.

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