Rise Of The Infinite Sovereign

Chapter 322: Fressia Verrar

Mystified, their feet lay entrenched, unprepared for what came next.

Already extremely pissed, Alvarach didn’t mince words before laying a barrage of fire slashes.

Well...almost.

After the two initial slashes, Alvarach’s attention was taken by something.

Sha!

A large line of blue mana came through the barrier with much haste, forcing him to dodge.

Upon contact with the ground, ice formed, spreading over the charred soil and nearby corpses like a carpet.

Right after, another line of blue mana penetrated the barrier, followed by five more.

Alvarach was so angry he could explode, the slashes of ice were powerful and also an indicator of Ezra’s distance.

As such, his priorities changed and he flew towards the circle of descent.

The peak masters sustained damage from the splash effect of Alvarach’s attack, while those unlucky enough to be hit with the main attack burned to a crisp.

Fast approaching, upon seeing Alvarach enter such a large barrier capable of warding his senses, Ezra sent a barrage of ice slashes towards it in an effort to destroy it.

Instead, configured for easy access, the slashes simply went through the barrier to the other side.

As his attack failed, Ezra sped into the dome, facing no resistance as those before him.

Inside, he is immediately disgusted.

’What is this unpleasant atmosphere?’

Rather than the stench brought by corpses, the atmosphere was inherently unsettling.

’It’s this barrier!’ It hit him.

The barrier was actively suppressing him!

With a swing of his sword, Ezra cut into it, facing resistance.

Intent on destroying the barrier, Zydrax’s voice pops into his mind, reminding him of his objective.

[You don’t have time for this. Find Alvarach]

Back to his senses, Ezra pinpoints Alvarach’s location and speeds off.

With his indomitable aura, the Peak masters had been forced to take notice of him, watching as he sped off.

Among them, a special few recognized him.

"That’s Ezra!" Ashton exclaimed with excitement.

Wiping sweat from his face, Johan snorted with a smile. "About time"

"Seems like he got stronger again" Theron remarked with a complicated gaze.

"So, do we follow him?" Velora inquired.

Roxanne commented. "We can’t catch up to him, and I don’t even think he needs our help...Let’s just keep attacking the barrier"

With a nod from the others, they got back to attacking the barrier.

In his haste towards the circle of descent, Alvarach looked over the battle between Grandmasters.

Even with the three new helpers, the demon’s exaggerated regeneration left the human Grandmasters on the losing end.

But right now he wasn’t concerned about that.

Right now, an enemy capable of killing him was on his tail, and with less than half of his reserves left, he was in a difficult position.

Unlike Crea, even after studying magic circles for decades, as a demon, he was unable to change its nature to accept negative mana-which was the natural force of the demon world.

He could force it-which was what he usually did-but using magic circles like such eat through his reserves at an obscene pace.

This in turn limited the level of spells he could use, and the last stunt he pulled now had him in a difficult position, left with a little more than a quarter of his whole reserves.

While good enough to discharge any overconfident Grandmaster to the afterlife, against Ezra, who was constantly refuelling his mana, he stood no chance.

For all he was, retreating was not in the radar of Alvarach’s thoughts.

Not to mention the obvious with his decades of efforts going to waste, with a new Mythic rank, chances to make a comeback were extraordinarily slim.

He had to kill Ezra today, because there would not be a better chance.

To do that, he needed his reserves refilled, and as a demon, he knew exactly how to do that.

With Ezra getting closer, Alvarach didn’t dare dilly-dally.

He ditched the human Grandmasters. As inhabitants of Orion, their soul power was insufficient for him.

He’d have to kill and absorb the souls of all those present to make a decent recovery.

Not to mention the energy he would exert to get that done, he would be unable to kill them all before Ezra caught up to him.

So he made a grasping motion for one the demon Grandmasters.

At the moment of Alvarach’s entry into the battlefield, something very strange was going on between Frederick and Crea.

-Thirty minutes ago-

Frederick and Crea clashed for the umpteenth time.

Taking note of her human traits, Frederick started speaking to her.

"Why are you doing this?!"

"Doing what" she replied from under her helmet.

"Why are aiding demons in killing your own kind?!"

She snorted inaudibly. "What can I say? I’m just trying to survive"

"And you have to slaughter an entire kingdom’s worth of people to do that?"

"I didn’t do that" she replied. "The demon lord did...besides, he did the world a favour, ridding it of those pretentious creatures"

With a neutral tone, she continues. "They should be glad to die"

"Is that you tell yourself to justify the destruction you’ve caused?" Frederick muttered, swiping the spiked hammer to blow her head off.

Dodging, she creates distance, opening up a magic circle to cast a fire arrow.

"Nothing good has come from the destruction you’ve caused, all you do is increase suffering and destroy lives!"

"I’m simply granting them salvation, redeeming them of their pitiful existence" she replies.

Ptui!

Frederick spat with disdain. "Disgusting".

"...What did you say?" She replies in a low tone.

"Your looks, voice and everything else. It’s disgusting. Looking at you makes my tongue bitter"

Wiping sweat off his forehead, he stared at her with unbidden disgust.

"Look at you. Showering me with your disgusting ideals and acting righteous while destroying the lives of others-is there anything more pretentious than this?"

Readying his next attack, Frederick couldn’t help but add insult to injury.

"I wonder how disgusting your face has to look to hide behind such a helmet, you must look like a disgusting insect"

Hearing the last word, her mind snapped, something buried deep came bubbling forth.

Like a tsunami, killing intent surged, Frederick felt trepidation.

Bathing in killing intent, she breathed a sigh of relief, taking off her helmet to reveal short lush hair split in colours of white and black.

"I’m not sure why. But now I really need you to die!"

On the other hand, Frederick stood rooted to the spot, almost petrified with his mouth agape.

Taking a stance, with her killing intent flaring ever higher, she stares at him with. Irritated, before giving a nasty smirk.

"Am I that beautiful?"

As if woken from a nightmare, Frederick muttered.

"Fressia..."

Crea’s expression changed instantly, and like the other times before, the voices came out once again.

"Fressia, here. Eat this"

"But what about you?"

"Hehe. Don’t worry about me and just eat"

"Hehe. Fressia, I got something good today"

"Fressia, don’t worry. As long I’m here, everything’s going to just fine"

___________

Her clearest memory was waking up on a rocky carriage, soaking wet covered in a rough brown blanket, with bandages covering her head and left eye.

"You’re awake?"

A masked man was coaching the carriage, he informs her of how he saved her from drowning and brought her along.

She nods along absentmindedly, trying to grasp the situation.

"So, what’s your name?"

"My name...?" She muttered. "My name...I don’t remember"

"Ah...is that so?"

After tapping his chin, he says, "How about Crea?"

She nods along like a doll. "Crea...hmm, its nice"

Along the way her bandage had been removed.

While her head injury had healed up, she had developed amnesia and along with that-she had lost sight in her left eye.

With nowhere to go and no recollection of where she came from, she ends up following the man-who later identified himself as Neander-for months before joining the demonic cult.

There, they put her and many others to hellish training.

Beyond her amnesia, her emotions were faint.

But something lingered.

Whenever she felt suffocated, an unexplainable anger and hatred erupted from within, accompanied by the sound of water.

Looking back now, that was why she was able to survive.

With faint emotions she was unable to make meaningful connections, so the death of others didn’t affect her in the slightest.

And because she was filled with anger and hate, she was easily entranced by the cult’s agenda and before long, became a reputable killer.

Reaping the lives of over a hundred people just five years into the demonic cult, she was given hefty resources as rewards, multiplying her advantage.

As such, she shot up the ranks like a comet, leaving bloodshed in her wake.

Two decades in, she recovered a bit from her memories.

Voices and dreams came from time to die, but she could never make out a face, only black or blurry apparitions.

Some made mockery of her while others expressed envy or disdain.

But one was different.

Time and time again, she would dream of herself and a boy with brown hair and eyes dressed in rags scrounging waste sites.

The boy looked pitiful and even pathetic, but she never missed those sparkling eyes and bright eyes longing for the future.

Through him, she was able to grasp her real name.

Fressia.

But that was about it.

Each time she had a dream related to the boy, she would wake with tears.

It only angered her when she was unable to grasp nothing but straws.

Neader had died. So apart from knowing the kingdom she was brought from, all else about her past had been a vague mystery.

Searching for the boy, she went back to Isla and scoured the whole kingdom for two years, only to end up with very little results.

After that she gave.

’He must’ve died somewhere’ she told herself.

Thereafter, she purposefully suppressed the memories, putting them away for good.

As a bonafide killer, the anger was no longer a problem.

She could control herself just fine.

She lived on, dedicating herself to the demonic cult, coming together with misfits just like her.

Yet now, after four decades, her real name comes out of the mouth of the enemy.

She stares at the enemy and like a dream, the face from her dream seemed to float onto the man’s.

And...it matched.

’Ah’ the realization jolts her brain, and then, like the rising of the sun, it all started coming back.

’That’s right...my name is Fressia Verrar’

Born in Isla, she grew up in an Orphanage with her brother, Salvador.

Whoever left them there left them with a surname, Verrar.

Growing up, the orphanage provided for them.

Her hair made her stand out, but at the orphanage, that wasn’t a good thing.

"Look at her, freak"

"I wished she would just die"

"Heh, she looks like an insect"

Apart from the jealousy, a lot of times, they had to scrounge for scraps to eat from wherever.

When it became too much, Salvador joined a group and learned to pickpocket.

From that, he was able to afford minimum amenities.

During all this, her best moments were with her brother.

His face was always bright, talking about their bright future while they ate at night.

He never gave in, and he never gave up.

That was the best thing about him.

One fateful day, her brother got caught and was thrown in a cell.

With him away, she had no one to give her food.

Three days went by and hunger was about to drive her insane.

After crying herself to sleep the night before, she decided she needed to do something.

Who knew when her brother would be back?

She made up her mind to steal just enough food to stave off her hunger.

It took all the courage she could muster, but she got out in her ragged clothing and her head covered under a hood.

Wobbling and unsteady, people simply walked past her, like always.

It was getting hard to think with her stomach screaming, so she lunged at the first thing she saw.

An apple.

Grabbing it, she takes a bit as the store owner hollers for security.

Running as fast as her tiny legs could take her while eating the apple ravenously, she didn’t get far.

Caught, she made sure to ram the rest of the apple down her throat.

That would at least make the punishment worth it.

Unfortunately for her, she couldn’t have had worse timing.

The time of her crime coincided with the appearance of a passing noble.

With his intervention, what should’ve been a few days in a cell at most became something else entirely.

She couldn’t forget that face of absolute disgust.

"Why do we let such vermin walk around our city?" He said. "Throw her in the river"

He decided her fate, and no one dared interject.

She struggled, but with how underfed she was, it was all futile.

She was soon binded, tied up with heavy rope.

Tears ran down her eyes as they moved out of the city gates.

She wished something else would happen, that the future would change course, that her brother would appear to save her, but no.

Tossing her into the river, she saw them turn back immediately as she descended.

Pah!

With her body mass slamming into the water, she was underwater in no time.

’Ah!’

The reality dawned on her as she lost her ability to breathe.

With denial gone, anger set in like a storm.

What had she done to deserve any of this?

Why was her life so bad?

But those questions didn’t stay for long as the current dragged her along, uncaring for her comfort.

Soon after, she smashed her head against a rock.

Closing her eyes, she remembered thinking, ’What else could go wrong’ as she lost consciousness.

__________

Coming back to reality, she feels a moisture on her face.

For the first time in decades, fresh tears grace her cheeks.

With a panicking voice, she spoke.

"Sa-Salvador...?"

"Fressia..."

The two just stared at one another, still coming to terms with such a shocking revelation.

In the midst of this...

"Bera sstratum! (Come here)

Alvarach popped into the scene like an unsettling cockroach.

Both of his hands glowed and Crea lost control of her body.

Having mastered and assimilated the use of demonic essence and mana, surely she would provide good nourishment for his soul, and maybe even increase his assimilation rate?

One way to find out.

Losing control of her body, Crea quickly realized the problem.

Since she had his blood within her, he was able to use that to control her to an extent.

With his reunion about to be cut short forever, Frederick lunged.

Rather shout "NO!" like some people, he threw his spiked hammer.

Hitting her, its weight took her out of Alvarach’s control and towards the ground.

While she would sport some wounds, she would instantly regenerate, so no harm done.

Annoyed, Alvarach sought to teach Frederick a lesson, but forgoed it.

He hadn’t forgotten the real threat getting ever closer.

Alvarach’s hands glowed a second time, and two demonic Grandmasters were unwittingly dragged from their positions towards him.

As full fledged demons, it was much easier.

With their necks falling into his grip, Alvarach’s mouth expanded.

A horrific sight for sure.

In one go, he ripped off its head and without further ado, plunged his nails into the corpse, sucking it for all its worth.

"Cis!" (Yes!)

Ecstasy set in as his reserves recovered in real time.

In a short minute, the juicy corpse became sunken, like a deflated waste bag.

Tossing it aside, he focuses on the other in his second palm and does the same thing.

Dragging the forth into his grip, the ecstasy fades and his senses return.

"Tsk!"

Ezra was close.