Read Novel Full Chapter 863 A King’s Return (1)
Chapter 863 A King’s Return (1)
"This is the end… Shadow Sect warrior."
After standing his ground against one of the strongest demons ...
a bearer of the Hell Duke title at its peak ...
the tide had turned, and Alexander Rybak found himself in a position no one would envy.
Maskith, who had relied solely on aura since the very beginning,
suddenly drew forth an entirely different power ...
a gray energy wrapped in black flickers, crackling like lightning in the dark.
Its presence was faint compared to aura, barely enough to coat his hand ...
and yet, the beam it released was impossibly fast,
accomplishing what none of his previous attacks had ever managed.
The dark gray ray pierced straight through Alexander's chest,
tearing open a grotesque hole that exposed the void behind him.
Alexander slowly passed his hand through the hollow in his own body,
a look of disbelief carved into his face ...
his absolute, indestructible form… violated by a single, trivial strike.
It was a complete shock to the proud warrior of the Shadow Sect.
From afar, Wesker watched in silence, equally shaken.
"What… is that power?"
His eyes remained locked on the fading gray beam, unable to comprehend it.
No matter how closely he observed, no matter how deeply he analyzed ...
not even the Eye of the King could decipher it.
It was a force that existed far beyond his domain.
"You fought well," Maskith said calmly, stepping forward.
"If this battle had been decided by aura alone…
you would have defeated me without question."
"But the world is far greater than you imagine, Shadow Sect warrior…
and beings like you see only a fragment of it."
As the gray energy slowly faded,
Alexander staggered in place, clutching his chest, barely holding himself together.
No blood flowed from his wound ...
his body was forged from that same dark substance that once consumed Frey within the tomb.
But the absence of blood did nothing to dull the pain.
He felt everything.
Every ounce of damage. Every fracture of his existence.
Maskith and Wesker closed in, intent on delivering the final blow,
while Alexander struggled to remain conscious, caught completely off guard.
He had lost.
He understood that much.
He had lost the moment Maskith broke through his defense ...
the moment that fatal strike landed.
That gray energy…
it had felt like death itself—erasing everything in its path.
With great effort, Alexander lifted his head, staring at his enemies ...
before slowly turning his gaze toward the distant tomb behind him.
The place where his king slept.
His blue eyes ignited with a roaring flame,
his teeth grinding against each other as he forced himself to breathe.
With trembling resolve, he removed his hands from his chest ...
revealing the gaping hole without hesitation ... and clenched his fists once more.
Ready to fight.
The sight alone stunned both Maskith and Wesker.
"You still intend to fight… even now?" Maskith asked coldly.
With a wave of his staff, he unleashed a surge of dark aura,
while Wesker followed with a flood of shadows,
engulfing Alexander within a suffocating black storm.
Maskith no longer used Aether ...
the battle, in his mind, was already decided.
"Finish him, Wesker," he said, his gaze shifting toward the distant tomb.
"I'll take care of what lies beyond."
His body flared with energy as he prepared to move ...
But he froze.
A crushing wave of aura slammed into him, halting him mid-motion.
Turning sharply, his expression darkened as he witnessed
an explosive eruption of power that shattered both his and Wesker's forces.
Alexander Rybak had broken free.
His body was engulfed in roaring blue flames,
his entire being consumed by a feral, unrestrained aura.
With a monstrous roar, he unleashed his presence ...
a pressure that spread across dozens of miles in an instant.
"You're not going anywhere… none of you are!!!"
His scream tore through the battlefield,
his metallic skin cracking under the overwhelming strain.
This… was his last stand.
The final defiance of a warrior willing to give everything ...
his life, his body, his very existence ...
just to delay them.
Even for a second.
Even for a single breath.
If he could stop them for that long…
he would accept death without hesitation.
It should have been a pitiful sight.
But neither Maskith nor Wesker felt pity.
Only dread.
Alexander's aura exploded outward,
compressing into a suffocating pressure that locked them both in place.
They could not move.
He could not attack ...
all he could do was hold them there… just a little longer.
And yet, standing at the edge of death,
his final act managed to restrain two monsters ...
one at the peak of SSS, and another at its fifth stage.
Under that crushing force… Maskith laughed.
"Incredible, warrior… truly incredible."
With great effort, he brought his arms together, resisting the pressure.
"Is this sheer will alone…?
Or something far deeper?"
Slowly, he began to draw upon that forbidden power once more ...
Aether forming in his grasp as he fought against Alexander's overwhelming aura.
"Such loyalty… worthy of respect."
His voice grew colder.
"Allow me to honor it… by ending you with my strongest attack."
The old man steadied himself,
forcing out the unstable negative energy once more ...
a power that was destructive even to him.
And yet…
He chose to use it.
As a final tribute to the warrior before him.
The gray, dark energy flared violently between Maskith's hands ...
then shot forward at terrifying speed, tearing through the air toward Alexander.
Aether carved its path straight through Alexander's crushing aura pressure,
dispersing it completely with absurd ease… until it reached him at last.
This time, Maskith aimed for the head—intent on ending everything in a single strike.
For a fleeting moment, both he and Wesker saw it ...
the vision of the Shadow Sect warrior's head erased from existence.
In their minds… he was already dead.
But reality… told a different story.
At the final instant, a second gray beam erupted from nothingness ...
identical in nature to Maskith's own ... and collided with it before it could land.
The two forces devoured each other, vanishing in a deafening explosion.
Maskith's eyes nearly burst from their sockets at the sight ...
his own power… reflected back at him.
Wesker's expression darkened as he realized ... someone else had entered the battlefield.
Maskith's veins throbbed, his eyes burning red with intensity.
Wesker instinctively took a step back.
The reason was simple ...
a masked man now stood between them and Alexander… having appeared from nothing.
'What the hell is happening…?'
The demon could not comprehend it.
He felt nothing. Not even a trace of aura.
He could see him ... but the Eye of the King could not perceive him.
No information. No reading. Nothing at all.
Because it could no longer understand what it was looking at.
Floating in the air, Frey had finally entered the battlefield ...
catching Alexander Rybak's broken body, preventing him from falling.
Alexander stared at his king, his once blazing eyes now dimmed and weakened—
yet filled with undeniable relief upon seeing him.
"My lord… I—"
"Don't speak. Say nothing, Alexander… you've done more than enough."
Frey's eyes reflected calm… and a warmth Alexander felt clearly.
Placing his hand over the massive wound in Alexander's chest,
a faint smile formed beneath the mask.
"I won't accept the loss of a great warrior… and a valued friend.
So don't die, Alexander. Live… and fight beside me."
With a single motion, a gray energy surged from Frey's hand ...
but unlike Maskith's, this one pulsed with a crimson glow… alive.
Maskith stared at it, his expression shifting in ways it never had before.
"Positive energy…"
A power far beyond what servants could ever wield…
had appeared before his very eyes.
In one effortless act, Frey filled the hollow in Alexander's chest ...
reconstructing his body within seconds, restoring him to near perfection.
Life returned to Alexander's eyes instantly—
even he was stunned, unable to grasp what had just occurred.
Once the healing was complete, Frey rested a hand on his shoulder,
patting him gently before issuing a quiet command.
"Fall back. I'll take it from here."