I Died and Received an SSS-Rank Unique Ability-Chapter 74: The One Who Fell Returns

A thunderous crash shook the battlefield as a massive figure landed with earth-shattering force.

For a heartbeat, everything froze—magic flickered out mid-cast, weapons halted mid-swing, and every gaze turned toward the ominous silhouette that had just descended.

Even Aemond, who had been grinning ever since the fighting began, lost all trace of amusement. His smirk faded, replaced by a sharp frown that cut across his face like a blade.

A lone figure leapt down from the back of the ice dragon, landing with a soft but resolute thud.

He moved like a shadow through the chaos—unbothered and undeterred. No one from either side dared to act. All eyes were locked on the newcomer, unsure of who—or what—had arrived to shift the tides.

Then, as the figure approached, a familiar, crooked grin spread across Dain’s face.

"Good timing, my friend!" he roared, his voice booming across the stunned battlefield.

Ayla’s eyes widened in disbelief. She stared at the one who had fallen into the abyss—the one she had believed was dead. Yet here he stood.

"You okay, Ayla?" Vale’s voice cut through the silence. He gave her a swift glance—barely enough to catch her nod—before turning his attention to the man now standing before him.

"What’s this? Just one man?" Aemond sneered, though the forced grin on his face betrayed his unease. He tried to look unfazed by the arrival of Vale and the towering ice dragon.

Vale didn’t dignify him with a response. Instead, he closed his eyes for a heartbeat—and summoned the knight.

A swirl of dark mist materialised behind him, and from it emerged a towering figure—his spectral knight—its armour gleaming, its presence cold and menacing.

That was the cue.

The battle roared back to life.

The Dark Knight surged into the fray, cutting down Awakened soldiers with brutal precision. Above, the ice dragon bellowed, sweeping across the field. Its frigid breath turned men to statues, its tail a battering ram that tore through ranks of Dormant fighters.

The tide had turned.

Aemond, teeth clenched, lunged forward in desperation, hoping to end Vale before the battlefield slipped completely from his grip.

But Vale was ready.

Steel met steel in a clash that rang out above the noise, echoing like thunder.

Around them, the fighting slowed once more. Both sides paused, eyes drawn to the center of the field where the duel took place. Every strike between the two men felt like it carried the weight of the entire war.

Aemond attacked furiously, blade flashing with speed and strength—but none of his strikes landed. Vale sidestepped, parried, and redirected with terrifying ease. Each movement was deliberate, precise.

Sweat beaded on Aemond’s brow. Frustration twisted his expression. With a roar, he leapt back, and suddenly the air around him shifted.

A whirlwind erupted.

He had activated his Unique Ability.

Fierce gales tore across the battlefield like invisible blades, slicing through steel and flesh alike. Screams echoed as soldiers fell, the winds indiscriminate in their wrath.

Yet Vale stood firm, unfazed by the ability.

The wind cut at his skin, blood beginning to streak down his arms—but he didn’t move, didn’t react. He simply watched.

"So this is it?" he thought, eyes narrowing. "This is his Unique Ability?"

He lingered for a moment, then spoke again, his voice low.

"Disappointing..."

Vale reached within—not for his unique ability, but for something else.

The power he claimed when he killed the ice banshee—Frostpiercer.

The battlefield fell silent as the wind froze mid-gust. A deathly chill swept over the land, and cracks spiderwebbed across the ground. Soldiers turned their heads just in time to see a jagged spear of ice tear through the air in a blur of movement.

In the blink of an eye, the spear struck.

Aemond’s body lurched.

His eyes widened in shock as he looked down to see a long, gleaming spike of ice protruding from his chest. Crimson bloomed like a cursed flower around the wound.

He lifted his gaze only to see Vale already standing before him

Before his body could react in any way, Vale’s blade ignited with darkness, slicing through the air with terrifying finality.

Aemond’s vision flipped, followed by a sudden darkness.

His severed head hit the ground with a dull thud, his body falling swiftly after.

[ You have slain an Awakened Human, Aemond ]

A heavy silence fell across the battlefield.

Then, like the bursting of a dam, a roar of triumph erupted. Weapons clattered to the ground, disbelief painted across every face as soldiers stared at the lone figure who had turned the tide of war.

Vale stood motionless, sword still dripping with blood, until he turned around—just in time to see Ayla approaching.

Her expression was a storm of emotion. Disbelief, relief, confusion and perhaps something deeper—something Vale couldn’t grasp quite yet.

Without a word, she swung her fist and punched Vale square in the arm.

He opened his mouth to speak—but before he could utter a single word, she stepped in and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a sudden, fierce embrace.

At the same time, Dain and Klein made their way over, wide grins stretched across their faces.

"How?" Ayla asked, pulling back just enough to look at him. "How are you alive?"

"I’ll explain everything in time," Vale said quietly, his voice calm. "But first, we need to finish things here."

He stepped forward, approaching the remaining soldiers—both ally and enemy—who now stood frozen, watching him in stunned silence.

"The battle is over," he said, his voice carrying across the field. "Help the injured."

With that, he turned on his heel and walked back to his companions.

No more needed to be said.

Everyone dismissed their weapons. Once drenched in blood and violence, the battlefield shifted into something else entirely.

Sorrow spread across the faces of warriors from both sides as they began tending to the wounded—not as enemies, but as people. Moments ago, they had been trying to kill one another. Now, they bound wounds and offered hands.

Vale and the others watched the surreal scene unfold, their expressions mixed with awe and fatigue.

Then, silently, they made their way toward the tents—ready to help Ayla and Dain tend to their own injuries.

Only then—when the chaos had dulled into calm, when the pain of the moment had eased just enough to breathe—did Vale finally speak.

He looked at each of them, his eyes steady and voice low.

"A lot has happened..." he said.

And with that, he began to tell them everything.