Villain MMORPG: Almighty Devil Emperor and His Seven Demonic Wives

Chapter 1684: Regretless [Part 1]

Villain Ch 1684. Regretless [Part 1]

The chamber turned into a kaleidoscope of movement. Steel clanged against spellfire. Divine sigils burst like fireworks. Shrill, mechanical war cries bounced between the stone pillars, echoing over broken glass and sacred blood.

But Allen didn’t hear any of it.

He was already moving.

No commands. No plans. No voice chat coordination.

Just him.

And the monster across the room.

Sanctum Echo Knight “Regretless” <Lv. 215>

It stood taller than Allen, cloaked in ceremonial armor inscribed with ancient rites, its weapon a jagged halberd shaped like a church steeple. Its eyes burned white, faceless under a porcelain bridegroom mask. Not a hint of personality. Just execution protocol, bound in ritual steel.

Good.

Allen preferred it that way.

The moment the thing raised its halberd, Allen vanished.

’Shadow Step.’

A burst of black shimmer, no sound.

Then—CRACK!—Allen reappeared mid-air behind it, boots slamming into its back with bone-breaking force. His blade flashed downward in the same motion, cleaving across the knight’s shoulder and splitting one of its holy ward scripts clean in half.

Sparks and silver blood burst out like a geyser.

The knight staggered forward, barely catching itself.

Allen landed behind it, coat swirling, blade already reversing grip.

“Come on,” he growled.

The Echo Knight spun with unnatural speed, halberd shrieking toward him like a divine guillotine.

Allen ducked low. Steel screamed over his head, close enough to rattle his eardrums.

He didn’t block.

He stepped in.

His blade slashed across the knight’s ribs—again—again—again. Each movement quick, fluid, cruel. Brutality disguised as rhythm. The scent of oil-blood hit his nose, copper and ozone.

The knight retaliated. Its halberd reversed, slamming downward with a burst of radiant force.

Allen vanished again.

’Shadow Step.’

This time he landed directly above the knight—hanging upside down mid-blink, gravity catching up late.

He twisted in the air and drove his sword down like a black lightning bolt.

-CLANG!

The blade struck the knight’s helm. Cracked it. Sent a ripple of divine mana screaming outward. The mask shattered on impact—revealing nothing underneath. Just flickering light and hollow shape.

It roared—finally reacting.

A burst of white light exploded from its core.

Allen flew backward, boots skidding over blood-slick marble. The wall stopped him with a dull crunch to the ribs.

He tasted iron. But not his blood. Good.

“Harder,” he muttered.

The knight charged.

Allen flicked the blood off his blade.

Then ran to meet it.

No Shadow Step this time. Just raw motion.

He dipped beneath the first swing, side-stepped the second, and then—

His foot caught a piece of fractured tile.

He slid.

But didn’t fall.

Instead, he used the skid to spin under the knight’s guard, dragging his blade across its hip. A pulse of crimson exploded in a spray. One of its legs bent—wrong. Servo gears howled.

It still swung down.

Allen caught it with his bare hand.

A blinding flash erupted the moment steel met his glove, holy magic trying to tear through his bones.

He screamed—and held it anyway.

“Not done yet,” he snarled.

Then twisted the blade aside.

With his other hand, he shoved his sword up into the knight’s stomach—between plates—deep.

It choked.

Not air. Not voice.

Something spiritual. Something ancient.

And Allen leaned in.

“You picked the wrong bride.”

Then ripped his blade out sideways.

-SHRKKK!

Silver ichor sprayed across his chest, hissing as it hit his skin. The knight stumbled backward—its core now visible, flickering like a heart on life support.

Allen didn’t stop.

He walked.

Each step deliberate. Measured.

The knight tried to raise its weapon again—

Allen batted it aside.

One clean strike through the haft—split it in two.

The broken polearm clattered to the floor. The knight stepped back, almost confused.

Allen drove his boot forward—CRACK!—and shattered its knee.

The creature collapsed.

Allen raised his blade above his head, red light flickering along the edge, veins glowing faintly.

For a second, time slowed.

Not in the world. Not in the game.

But in his head.

All he could feel was the rush of blood under his skin. His heartbeat syncing to the tempo of violence. The voices of his party dulled. The dungeon’s holy ambiance reduced to static. There was no grand speech. No flourish.

Just this.

Allen brought the sword down with both hands.

-SPLAT!

The knight’s chest split open with a sickening crunch. The core shattered. White light leaked out like a dying prayer.

Then silence.

[Enemy Defeated – Sanctum Echo Knight “Regretless” Lv. 215]

[EXP +130,000]

[You recieved Echo Core Fragment 1 ea and Sanctified Halberd Shard 1 ea]

[Bonus: Melee Execution – Dark Aura Resilience +10% (Temporary)]

Allen pulled his sword free, blood dripping from the edge in thick streams. The once-clean marble beneath him was stained black and silver now, steam rising from the gore. His boots were slick. His knuckles bruised.

His HUD pinged—he ignored it.

All around the chamber, the rest of the team was still mid-fight.

Vivian was dual-wielding whips now, lightning arcing through every strike as she danced circles around the “Blamebringer.”

Jane was laughing, literally riding her undead beast like a war goat, launching bone shards into the faces of two Bride Drones.

Zoe was shoulder-deep in a holy fountain, summoning a tidal wave like she was conjuring a spa apocalypse.

Bella was—somehow—riding a possessed chandelier like it was a swing, giggling and tossing fireballs with her tails.

Larissa…

Allen’s eyes locked on her.

She had a blood scythe in one hand. Her foot planted on the chest of one of the Bride Seekers. Her eyes glowed bright red, lips curled in a snarl that somehow still looked like a smile.

“Mine,” she hissed—and crushed its head.

Allen smirked.

Then turned to the rest of the enemies, wiping his blade clean on the hem of his coat.

“Next.”

He flicked his fingers.

The blade hummed.

His body was tired. His magic was heavy. This place made him feel like he was wading through holy cement.

But his rage?

Still light. Still sharp.

He Shadow Stepped toward the next closest enemy—this time, the “Saintsplitter”—just as Zoe called out, “Allen! Behind—!”

A bolt of sanctified lightning crashed down where he had been half a second ago.

Too slow.

Allen reappeared above the Executioner—upside down, again, blade spinning.

He hit it like a meteor.

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