THE VILLAIN'S POV

Chapter 919: An Eccentric Author (2)

When the battle finally ended, every attendant who had participated was utterly exhausted.

Audrey, in particular, could barely catch her breath.

She could scarcely remain standing, relying on her long sword for support.

Her face and hair were a complete mess.

Only her emerald-green eyes still stood out—the one part of her that had never lost its brilliance.

Unlike her appearance in the Material World, where she possessed fiery crimson hair, her hair in the Aether World was golden blond with faint crimson at its tips.

Her features were softer as well.

Less sharp.

Less severe than the face she would become known for in the distant future.

She possessed breathtaking beauty.

Even stained with blood and worn down by war, she naturally drew every gaze around her.

Audrey swayed unsteadily, driving her long sword deep into the ground to keep herself from collapsing.

Her thoughts drifted elsewhere, and she barely noticed her surroundings...

Until Frey descended from the sky before her, forcing her attention back to reality despite her exhaustion.

Seeing the miserable state she was in, Frey let out a quiet chuckle.

Then he shared a portion of his aether with her, easing the burden weighing upon her body.

"Clean yourself up before we head home. Mother won’t be pleased if she sees you looking like this."

Frey gave Audrey a brief once-over before shifting his gaze toward the distant horizon, where the attendants were still pursuing the Creatures of Mist to ensure none had survived.

Audrey let out a quiet sigh.

Somewhat annoyed, she glanced at Frey, who, unlike her, looked almost immaculate.

Aside from a few traces of dust, he appeared exactly as he had before the battle had even begun.

"If you’re that worried about me," she replied, "then share a little more of your aether so I can recover."

Frey simply shook his head.

"I would if I could."

"I exhausted all of my aether during the fight."

"What I gave you a moment ago..."

"...was the last of it."

His answer made Audrey reconsider everything that had happened.

Only then did she realize that, despite his composed appearance, the man before her had driven himself to complete exhaustion.

Around them, the allied attendants cheered in celebration.

Frey had defeated one of the Lords of Mist with a single strike.

To everyone watching, it had looked effortless.

But reality couldn’t have been further from that impression.

"Was your opponent really that strong?"

Audrey asked quietly.

Frey nodded without hesitation.

"He was."

"Queem is the strongest opponent I’ve ever faced."

He scratched the back of his head with an awkward smile.

"I was so terrified of dying..."

"...that all I want right now is to go home as quickly as possible."

His smile was somewhat clumsy.

Then he extended his hand toward her.

"Let’s go home, Audrey."

She looked at him silently for several seconds before placing her hand in his.

The moment she did, a golden aura enveloped them both.

Their figures vanished from the Crimson Field, instantly transported somewhere else entirely.

Throughout the journey, Audrey’s eyes remained fixed upon Frey’s back.

There was curiosity in her gaze.

And suspicion.

’Frey has always been like this...’

’He complains endlessly about how difficult everything is, yet somehow walks away from every battle without a single scratch before rushing straight back home.’

’He always makes sure to put on a spectacular performance—one that leaves allies in awe and enemies in fear.’

She paused for a moment.

’Performance...’

’That really is the perfect word.’

’Everything he does feels like a play.’

’As though he’s performing on a stage... trying to satisfy an audience.’

The only question was...

Who exactly was that audience?

Audrey already knew the answer.

The teleportation came to an end.

The instant their feet touched the ground, it felt as though they had entered an entirely different world.

They stood upon a platform built from immaculate white stone.

It stretched endlessly into nothingness.

Behind them stood a colossal gate large enough for five giants to pass through side by side.

There were no walls surrounding the platform.

Nothing enclosed it.

Only endless space...

And the void itself.

At the end of the path, the platform widened into a vast circular hall.

Standing at its entrance were two beings so enormous that calling them giants would have been an understatement.

They towered into the heavens, draped in long white robes.

Their heads were nothing more than featureless masks, completely blank.

Each carried a magnificent staff in one hand.

Those overwhelming beings were merely guards.

Guarding the place known as...

The Council.

"Proceed alone, Frey."

"As for you, Audrey..."

"Do not move from where you are."

A cold voice descended from above.

Frey and Audrey raised their heads simultaneously.

Frey seemed to have sensed his presence all along.

Audrey, on the other hand, hadn’t noticed him in the slightest.

The young man looked slightly younger than Frey.

His build was neither lean nor muscular, resting somewhere in between.

His features were sharp, his appearance handsome in a restrained sort of way.

His eyes were crimson.

A pair of black reading glasses rested upon his face.

Half of his hair was white.

The other half was red.

The crimson looked less like dyed hair and more like a stain slowly spreading through pure white.

Everything he wore was white as well.

His robe.

His suit.

His trousers.

His boots.

Each piece was crafted from materials of the highest quality.

His hands remained calmly clasped behind his back.

He carried himself with the discipline of someone who cared about even the smallest detail.

A faint smile appeared on Frey’s face the moment he saw him, despite the cold look directed his way.

"You should leave this place every once in a while."

"The Council has drained every trace of life from your face..."

"...Ark."

"I appreciate the advice, brother."

"But I’d rather lock myself inside the Council..."

"...than waste my life writing a meaningless book."

Ark...

Or Arlecchino...

Answered in his usual calm voice.

Despite the coldness in his tone, Audrey sensed no hatred toward Frey.

Only something that resembled...

Disappointment.

Frey narrowed his eyes toward the Council before silently walking forward, leaving Ark and Audrey behind.

From where she stood, Audrey could make out several figures gathered inside the Council.

Among them...

She saw her.

The First Writer.

Clea.

Those dark eyes resembled an endless void itself, as though the entirety of space had been imprisoned within them.