Rogue Villain-Chapter 389: Close

Ackster wanted to reproach himself for not considering the possibility earlier. If he had, he might not have needed to risk his party members’ lives by trying to refine world power in the middle of the battle.

But blaming himself for a mistake was foolish to do in the current situation. If he wanted to eradicate the Voice, he needed to focus every ounce and fiber of his being on the battle. He couldn’t let a stray thought distract him.

Instead of regretting the past, he should embrace the future.

Ackster focused all of his Overhuman Senses on The Hero, who was in the middle of gathering world power for a strengthened attack that had Ackster’s spine trembling like a leaf caught in a storm.

While doing so, Ackster split a part of his mind and broke off a strand of Limit Breaker’s energy. He followed the lines and scars in his soul until he found what he was looking for. He found the part of his soul that housed the Demon Sword.

Without hesitation, despite the risks he realized this action bore, Ackster gave the Demon Sword part of Limit Breaker’s energy.

Instantly, the sword hummed in surprised pleasure. It struggled to free itself from Ackster’s control, trying to flip their relationship on its head. But Ackster didn’t let it.

Ackster thought he heard a disappointed sigh before the Demon Sword focused its attention on The Hero instead. If it couldn’t control Ackster, it could at least devour the world power battery that was The Hero.

Ackster encouraged the change in attitude, even if the increased clarity in the sword’s emotions worried him. Now wasn’t the wasn’t the time for such worries, anyway, so he cast them aside and closed his eyes while curving his sword through the air like a wave.

Ackster slid on the water as he pointed at the water with his sword. And as The Hero unleashed his attack, a beam powerful enough to evaporate the water within a mile, Ackster began cutting upward. His motions were slow—like the surface of a gentle stream snaking through a calm forest.

But they were powerful.

Ackster’s movements were made with a power as if to lift the world. With the might of the attack he faced, he needed it.

They also only looked slow because they were in comparison to everything else in a world of transcendental power.

Ackster’s muscles trembled, contracted, and expanded at a speed that had the air churning as he moved his sword with all his Ichor packed into it. Compared to that, his sword moved like a snail.

The Hero’s beam of concentrated world power was like a train as it rushed toward Ackster and his snail-like attack.

The beam locked Ackster down and solidified the space around him, making it impossible for Ackster to escape in time. His only option was to face the attack head-on.

Usually, Ackster didn’t mind such situations. He embraced them since his regenerative abilities made him almost immortal, even without Conditional Immortality.

However, The Hero’s attack would erase him from existence. Not even a speck of dust would remain if he didn’t defend against the attack.

Ackster couldn’t afford to be lazy as he used all he could muster to raise his sword and split the attack in half like he was cleaving a tsunami.

Ackster’s muscles snapped from the exertion—the weight of lifting the world as he both raised his sword and blocked The Hero’s attack.

Either half of the beam rushed past him on either side, erasing the air and space in its path before restoring it as it passed by.

Eventually, since not even The Hero could maintain such an attack for more than a few moments, the beam of concentrated world power ceased.

Ackster exhaled deep enough to disperse the dust and steam that rose in the beam’s wake. His body ached in a way it hadn’t since his physical toils against enemies like the poison goblin and the Sharp-Horned Deer. By taking The Hero’s attack head-on, his body had entered a state of fatigue and exhaustion that his Stubborn Well-Being couldn’t push away that quickly.

A grin slipped onto Ackster’s face as his arms hung by his side, flesh and blood exposed for all to see, as he looked at The Hero.

*WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU?!*

The Hero’s mouth hung open for a moment. He didn’t even have time to feel glee at Ackster’s demise before he noticed Ackster was still alive. Disbelief colored his face in darkness as he glared at Ackster.

No being should be able to resist that attack. There was maybe one exception on Millmeria. But what Ackster had done was akin to catching the weight of the world with his bare hands. And he did it with a stupid grin on his crazed face.

The Hero pointed at Ackster with his sword, demanding an answer.

*I keep telling you. Let me kill you, and I’m sure I’ll at least get a clue.*

*Shut the fuck up! What are you?!*

Ackster chuckled as his wounds began recovering.

*Do you want me to shut up or answer your question?*

*Answer me!*

Ackster shrugged.

*I wish I could, but I don’t know.*

*That power you used... What is that?*

Ackster raised an eyebrow as he manifested a part of his Ichor above his palm.

*You don’t recognize it? I thought you would.*

The Hero’s eyes widened as he looked at the golden swirling mass of concentrated power even greater than his world power.

*D-don’t tell me...! Ichor?!*

The Hero looked at Ackster in shock.

*You’re a god?!*

Ackster shrugged again.

*I don’t think so. At least not yet.*

Ackster glanced around and spread his senses as far and wide as he could.

*Well, thanks for letting me recover. If you have any last words, save them for your next life. I don’t want to hear them.*

Ackster attacked.

After using all of that power in one go with a body that had yet to achieve perfect compatibility and conductivity for world power had struck a blow to The Hero’s strength. But the only thing that would have changed if The Hero was in prime condition was the duration of the battle.

In his current state, especially with a Limit Broken Demon Sword with at least a duke as the foundation that can use, absorb, and cut world power, Ackster wouldn’t lose to The Hero.

He had almost died there. If The Hero had gathered a little more power or been a little better at combat, Ackster would have died without a shred of doubt.

If Ackster had been just a little weaker—if he had been a little lazier with his training at any point during the last ten years, he would have died right then and there. He would have come close to defeating The Hero and saving the world. But that would have been all. Close.

Ackster attacked and overwhelmed The Hero. He sliced and diced The Hero with his sword until the Voice lost all shape and could no longer control The Hero’s body. But Ackster wasn’t done. He wasn’t done until the Voice was gone for good and would no longer resurrect.

When it was, he could finally begin.

*Now!*