Villain MMORPG: Almighty Devil Emperor and His Seven Demonic Wives

Chapter 1687: Sacrificial Lamb

Villain Ch 1687. Sacrificial Lamb

But it didn’t last long.

Not because they pushed. Not because they pried. But because the dungeon—this divine-bloodstained monument to broken vows and weaponized faith—wasn’t done with them yet.

Not even close.

It started with a low hum.

Then the flicker of runes.

And then—

The enemies came again.

Not boss-level constructs. Not minibosses with tragic backstories.

Just mobs.

Waves of them.

Shrinebound zealots. Bridecatcher drones. Masked penitents with curved blades and desperate speed. They didn’t speak this time. No chants. No monologues. Just the raw code of pursuit. Just numbers trying to overwrite resistance.

Allen moved without a word.

His blade sang before his mouth did.

Steel and void curved in wide arcs, slicing through the sanctified mobs with cold, brutal efficiency. Each swing painted the cracked marble red. The weight of it—of them—barely registered. Allen danced between their attacks, boots sliding across blood-slick tiles, coat torn and flaring.

He didn’t cast.

He didn’t need to.

This wasn’t magic.

This was math.

Timing. Distance. Weight.

And rage.

His sword moved like a vent. A blade-shaped exhale for everything he hadn’t said in the last two years. Every vow that burned. Every betrayal he wore in silence. Every moment he remembered being left behind and convinced himself he was fine.

Each slash—clean. Heavy. Unforgiving.

One mob screamed, lunged. Allen sidestepped and let its blade skim his coat. He retaliated with a stab to the throat—blade punching through golden mask and exiting the back of the skull. It dropped like a puppet with the strings cut.

The next one came. Two more. Four.

Allen killed them all.

And behind him, the girls fought too—Zoe summoning spirals of pressurized water to fling enemies into walls like soggy shrapnel.

Bella spun with a manic grin, tails lighting up as fire bloomed around her like an angry fox comet.

Larissa sliced in tight arcs, elegant and feral, blood dancing like a ribbon from fingertip to blade.

Vivian cracked her whip mid-air, catching a drone mid-flight and slamming it into a column like she was playing divine baseball.

Jane laughed while summoning a bone chimera with way too many teeth, and Shea flash-stepped between enemies with her blade slipping through armor like it wasn’t there.

Alice didn’t speak—just moved like death incarnate, her white coat billowing, her strikes silent and surgical.

It was beautiful.

Horrifying.

Efficient.

And maybe, just maybe, a little fun.

Allen didn’t smile. Not fully.

But the fight helped.

His body still remembered what to do. The blade didn’t care who hurt him. It just asked for targets. And Allen gave it plenty.

Strike. Parry. Shadow step.

Strike again.

The dungeon fed him enemies, and he gave it corpses.

And somewhere in the mess of it all, something clicked.

A glyph glowed at the edge of the hall—a cracked stained glass window shattered under Zoe’s tidal slam—and behind it, a vault opened. Slowly. Like it was watching them first. Then surrendering.

[System Update: The Bride and the Bound Saint – Quest Progression Unlocked]

[Sanctum Progress: 63%]

[Objective: Cleanse the Inner Gallery. Ritual Thread Unveiled.]

“Of course it’s called a ’ritual thread,’” Allen muttered, blood dripping from the edge of his sword. “Because when you’re building an emotionally traumatic church dungeon, what you really need is knitting.”

The girls all snorted.

“Gods,” Jane said, stepping over the twitching remains of a drone with one heel. “There you are.”

Allen gave her a look. “I’ve been here the whole time.”

She walked right up to him and lightly tapped her finger against his chest. “No. That you—” she jabbed again “—was moody brooding boy. This you is sarcastic sword murder gremlin.”

“I don’t like that title,” Allen muttered.

“I do,” Bella said instantly. “Can I make fanart?”

“No,” Allen said flatly.

Larissa rolled her eyes and pushed a blood-drenched strand of hair from her cheek. “So… are you good now?”

He paused.

The silence stretched.

Then he sighed, setting his blade against his shoulder.

“Yeah. I’m… not perfect. But I’m here.”

Zoe squinted. “Here here or emotionally-here?”

Allen gave her a crooked look. “If I say emotionally here, you’ll make it weird.”

Zoe opened her mouth. Stopped. “…Fair.”

Alice stepped up beside him and handed him a mana cloth to wipe the blood from his cheek. “It’s okay to be angry.”

“I’m not angry.”

“Liar,” Larissa said casually, leaning against a pillar and licking her blade clean.

He paused. “Okay. I was. A bit.”

“And now?”

He exhaled, slower this time. The kind of breath that let a little heat bleed out of his chest.

“Now I’m…” He shrugged. “Okay? I guess.”

“Good!” Jane chirped, hands on her hips. “Now let it stay good.”

“Yeah,” Larissa smirked. “Or I swear, I’m going to seduce you right here.”

Allen side-eyed her. “That’s not a threat. That’s just your Tuesday.”

“Oh, we all gonna seduce you,” Shea chimed in innocently.

Bella threw both hands in the air. “I agree!”

“I—what?” Allen blinked.

Jane raised her hand like a student with a curse idea. “Ooh! What if we do it on the altar?”

Allen turned to her slowly. “We’re in a dungeon.”

Alice deadpanned, “Still a good idea.”

Bella was already at his arm, her fox tails swishing with lethal joy. “Let’s go!”

“Wait—Bella—”

Too late.

She practically dragged him to the stone dais in the center of the sanctum. The others followed like it was a picnic, giggling and trading shameless suggestions.

Allen stared at the altar as they surrounded him.

It was massive, rectangular, carved from pale obsidian and etched with faded celestial glyphs. A shallow basin of dried crimson ringed the sides. The whole thing pulsed faintly now that they were close—as if responding to their presence. Or his.

Allen narrowed his eyes.

“Why do I feel like a sacrificial lamb?”

“Nooo~,” Larissa purred, leaning over his shoulder, lips brushing his ear. “You’re not a lamb. You’re a sacrificial emperor. Way cooler.”

“Oh, yeah,” Jane chimed in cheerfully. “Way more epic when we all defile—uh, bless—you.”

Allen blinked. “…How about a no?”

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