THE VILLAIN'S POV

Chapter 540: Possession

“It’s been a long time since I last saw you, my boy. I let you wander and grow… until you became what you are now.

But with those same golden eyes, I can see you haven’t changed much.”

Smough’s words reflected in Snow’s mind as his body reacted on instinct—

He unleashed the Warlord Form at full force, ignoring the agony, and lunged without hesitation, aiming straight for the man’s neck.

“You haven’t changed either ..but you’re no longer the obedient child I once knew.”

Clang!

Without warning, a crushing wave of pain slammed into Snow Lionheart’s mind, shaking him to the core.

His sword bit into Smough’s neck… but the man’s body was so impossibly solid that the blade stopped halfway through, cutting only part of it.

In turn… Smough’s massive fist drove deep into Snow’s chest, punching through until it burst out of his back.

“The child I raised would never have attacked me… but you’re no longer that obedient boy. You’ve rebelled, my son, and it’s time to come home.”

Clutching at Smogh’s fist, Snow coughed up blood, swearing through the agony.

“Burn… to hell!!!”

From within Snow’s body, more power surged into his sword as he tried to cleave Smogh’s head off, but the latter remained unmoved by his struggle.

Veins crawled across the Hollow’s skin, his body hardening manyfold.

“You can’t win. In your current state, you wouldn’t be able to swat a mosquito.”

Pulling his hand from Snow’s chest, Smough left a gaping, bloody crater in his son’s body.

Snow writhed on the ground, screaming in pain.

Vermithor was still lodged in Smogh’s neck, irritating him. The Hollow wrenched it free and tossed it aside.

“Annoying sword,” he muttered, wiping away the bleeding wound. That blade was a bane to those who wielded demonic power.

His gaze returned to Snow, who was still writhing on the ground, trying to clutch the hole in his chest.

No matter what he did, the wound refused to stop bleeding.

Snow tried to rise, but Smogh’s foot came down hard on his head, forcing him back into the dirt.

“I don’t want to mutilate you any more than this. Be a good boy and stay down, Snow. Be a good boy, and everything will be fine.”

Those words were a curse in Snow’s ears.

He was racing against time, his mind spiraling into chaos.

’Damn it… is all of this my blood?’

He kept trying to press against the void in his chest, but all his hands found was more blood—far too much of it.

He felt his consciousness slipping away.

His sword was gone. His strength completely spent.

’It’s fine… it’s fine… I’ll be okay.’

He spat out more blood, sobbing beneath Smogh’s boot.

’I just need to circulate my aura… just focus, and the wound will heal on its own… I’ll be fine… I’ll be fine…’

Snow’s breathing was ragged.

Inhale… exhale… then a hacking cough, splattering more blood around him.

’I’ll be fine.’

Breathing became a task in itself. Blood filled his throat entirely, and his vision began to dim.

’I’ll be fine…’

He kept repeating it blindly, unable to process that his blood had already pooled around him.

“It’s truly pitiful…” Smough said, a look of disgust twisting his face.

“You think yourself a noble hero, pure and righteous… unlike me, the monster who devours humans. Isn’t that so?”

The Hollow whispered into Snow’s ear with a faint chuckle.

“How naïve you are, my son. You and I are no different at all.”

Dipping his hand into Snow’s blood, he smeared it across the boy’s face.

“The same blood runs through your veins… I injected it into you myself.”

“Demon’s blood.”

Patting Snow’s white hair—now stained crimson—Smogh continued to pour his venom.

“And not just demon blood… but the blood of all the other children who lived under the same roof as you.”

Those final words made Snow’s head boil with rage… but he could do nothing.

“Your body was always the most perfect. That’s why I chose you as the ideal vessel for all that blood. So don’t hold it against me… my son!”

Smough laughed loudly, as Snow’s consciousness slid into darkness.

He couldn’t speak in this state… but inside his mind, he cursed.

He cursed the man standing before him, and he cursed his own weakness—the weakness that had once again left him powerless to do anything.

The man he’d searched for years to find was right in front of him… and he’d lost to him in a single blow.

Pathetic. Truly, utterly pathetic.

And so, Snow fell completely—defeated before the Hollow, Smogh.

The latter reached out to take him.

“Seems you’ve finally fallen.”

The Hollow had chosen to appear at the worst possible moment, after Snow had drained himself completely.

He knew full well that if he’d fought Snow at his peak, no one could say how things might have turned out.

That was why he struck when he did. And his plan had worked flawlessly.

Now, all that was left was to claim the body.

But the moment his hand extended—

—the pressure around them shifted from nothingness into something crushing, and Snow Lionheart’s eyes snapped open once again.

The Church’s hero slapped Smogh’s hand away, and with a flick of his wrist, Vermithor came flying back to him.

Gripping it, Snow plunged the sword deep into his own chest, unleashing a brilliant radiance that engulfed the battlefield.

With quick, deliberate steps, he retreated from Smogh, who stared, baffled by what he was seeing.

“You?!” Smogh barked, as Snow smiled.

“Ah… damn, that hurts more than I expected.”

With the sword still buried in his chest, Snow stood face-to-face with the Hollow.

“You really are a cursed bastard, Smough—attacking your enemies like this? Pathetic…” Snow laughed, while Smough’s brow furrowed.

The man before him had changed entirely. As if…

“Someone else…”

“Ah… you caught me.”

Smiling faintly, a ghostly image of another figure appeared behind Snow.

*Third-Person Pov: Target possessed (Affinity insufficient, possession will be

canceled shortly) *

Glaring at the system’s notice, Snow gripped Vermithor tightly.

“I don’t have much time… so let’s finish this quickly.”

It was Frey Starlight—speaking through Snow’s body—ready to face the enemy who had tormented his friend for far too long.

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