THE VILLAIN'S POV

Chapter 353: Darker than black (2)

Quietly, both Ghost and Daemon exited the building.

Night had fallen. The streets were completely deserted—eerily so—but the eerie silence didn’t faze the duo at all.

Ghost lifted his gaze toward the moon that lit the sky, the same moon seen from all corners of this world.

He found himself wondering about the others.

“You said assassins work alone, Daemon Valerion.”

Ghost’s voice broke the silence, and Daemon halted, staring at him with a blank expression.

“So what?”

“You’re wrong. Assassins never truly fight alone.”

Ghost kept walking, voicing thoughts he rarely shared aloud.

“An assassin always assesses the situation and chooses the most logical path … the one that offers the best chance of survival. The simple truth is, I saw no advantage in staying alone with you, Daemon Valerion.”

“…”

Daemon didn’t say anything. He knew Ghost was right.

“But no need to worry. The purge you want might just happen on its own.”

Daemon was momentarily surprised by how accurately Ghost had read him.

What Daemon truly desired was a team made up only of the strong—no deadweight, no burdens.

And it seemed that team would assemble itself naturally, just as Ghost implied.

The Continent of Ultras would ensure it .. one way or another.

With a crooked grin, Daemon expressed his admiration.

“I wonder how you can speak your mind so easily… Ghost Umbra.”

But Ghost didn’t really care.

The number of people he wanted to save in this world was small—painfully so.

Especially for someone like him, who had grown used to burying his comrades.

Nothing really moved the assassin anymore.

…

…

…

Far from the rebellious duo of Ghost and Daemon…

A lone girl wandered the alleys of the Ultras, hiding herself as best she could.

From time to time, her body would glow faintly with a soothing green aura, healing her fatigued body little by little.

This was how the Saint Candidate, Emilia Atarax, had survived these past few days.

With no food or water left, she had no choice but to resort to this method to stay alive.

Especially here, in the barren lands of the Ultras—no animals to hunt, no crops to harvest, not even water to drink.

The only meat that sustained these people was human flesh, and their only wine was filthy demon blood.

Emilia was already nearing her limit. Alone, scared to even move in search of her comrades, she had hidden away.

“Lord… grant me strength to overcome this trial…”

She prayed with all her heart, hoping her god would show her a path—or that one of her companions might find her.

Anyone would do.

Anything but this crushing, maddening solitude that left her unable to even sleep. The young girl suffered in silence.

Even her holy power had nearly run dry.

But just as she finished her prayer, she heard it …

A child’s cry in the distance.

The sound of a small boy weeping.

Emilia hesitated for a moment, afraid to leave her hiding place, but she gathered her courage when the crying didn’t stop.

“This must be a sign from the Lord…”

Believing it to be an answer to her prayer, she followed the sound immediately.

She moved through alley after alley until she reached a dark corner.

There, a child—no older than five—sat sobbing uncontrollably.

Emilia covered her mouth in horror as she saw the boy’s arms had been severed, his body tied to a chair and left to bleed out.

She rushed to him, pouring what little holy power she had left into his body, desperately trying to heal him.

“Hold on!”

But no matter how hard she tried, her power was too weak. His wounds didn’t close. The boy’s crying only grew louder.

“Lord… what should I do?!”

Emilia was at a loss, searching for anything—anything—to help the boy.

Then, as she turned around, she froze.

Right in front of her, just inches away, stood a man—his eyelids dry and crusted, his skin peeling to the bone—staring at her with grotesque curiosity.

A twisted smile stretched across his face the moment he saw Emilia’s features.

“I knew it!”

He shrieked, mad with joy, as he yanked back her black cloak, revealing her green hair and the face she’d tried so hard to hide.

“I knew you’d come!!”

The deranged man screamed, reaching out with a trembling hand.

But Emilia, frozen in terror, released a burst of holy energy, blasting him back.

And yet…

It didn’t harm him at all.

“Stay away!!”

From her frail hands, Emilia unleashed another beam of holy power, shattering the terrifying man’s body with force.

But not enough to kill him…

“Damn you!! I cut off my son’s hands just for you! Why are you acting like this?!”

The man screamed in madness, and Emilia’s fear only grew—along with the certainty that she had no choice but to kill him.

But she had never been a fighter to begin with. Her strength had faded, worn down by days of hunger and exhaustion.

Then out of nowhere…

A second man appeared. Then a third. A fourth. Crawling in from the edges of the narrow alley…

Between the boy who had cried until his tears and blood ran dry,

and the men whose skin was blistered and clung tight to their bones…

Emilia resisted, summoning a barrier to keep them at bay.

Those men—more demon than human—threw themselves at the barrier with mindless ferocity, drooling as they stared at her.

They pounded against it until their arms and legs bled.

Tongues out. Eyes glowing red.

Emilia watched her barrier begin to crack.

“My God…”

The fissures spread, one after another…

“My God!!”

Tears streamed down her face as her body trembled involuntarily at the sight of those creatures battering her last line of defense.

Now… there were dozens of them.

Then—without warning—

Emilia fell to the ground, struck by the one soul she hadn’t seen as an enemy.

The child, the boy with severed hands, leapt onto her and bit down on her left shoulder with animalistic force, sinking his teeth deep into her flesh.

Emilia, who had always fought from a distance—far from pain, far from suffering—was not used to feelings like this.

So, all she could do was scream in agony, forgetting the barrier that had protected her until now.

And just like fragile glass… the shield shattered.

The monsters surged in.

Like beasts, they swarmed over Emilia’s fallen body, tearing off her clothes in an instant, pinning her down with brutal force, snapping the bones in her arms and legs, refusing to let her escape.

When the wave of blinding pain hit her—pain unlike anything she had ever known—Emilia had no choice but to scream until her voice broke.

From every direction, the men piled onto her like rabid animals, even fighting each other in their frenzy to get to her.

And finally ..

The Saintess Candidate felt a searing, unbearable pain from below, unable to comprehend that she had already been violated.

In that moment… a single phrase echoed through her broken mind:

“If they get the chance, they’ll take turns raping your corpse, one after the other…”

With her body shattered and monsters raping her again and again…

Emilia, who could no longer scream or cry, found herself asking:

After endless hours ..

’Why is this happening to me?’

She had been obedient. Devout. Faithful.

She had done everything right. Lived a righteous life.

The bishop once said… the faithful would never suffer.

So why?

Why was this her end?

Her holy power didn’t save her.

No one came.

In that dark alley…

She was violated again and again until she died in that cursed corner of the world.

And as expected—those monsters continued what they started, even knowing their prey was dead, raping her corpse and dragging all meaning of life and morality down with it.

In a shadowed corner of this damned land…

Another tormented soul fell.

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