Villain MMORPG: Almighty Devil Emperor and His Seven Demonic Wives

Chapter 1688: Haunted Wedding

Villain Ch 1688. Haunted Wedding

They all groaned.

“I mean, I like the idea,” Allen added, tilting his head. “But maybe not in a divine murder hall with fresh corpses and a haunted wedding vibe.”

“Oh yeah…” Bella said, sniffing. “Still smells like trauma.”

Allen reached out anyway, brushing the edge of the altar with his fingers—just to prove a point. “This—“

But, the altar responded instantly.

Light bloomed beneath his palm—soft, pinkish-gold, tinged with static. A hum vibrated through the floor. Then the runes ignited. All of them. Spiraling out like awakened veins of memory.

And the world shifted.

Not violently.

Just… gently.

Like a curtain drawn aside.

Behind him, the girls stopped joking.

Ahead of him, she appeared.

A woman.

Seated atop the altar, legs tucked to one side beneath flowing white silk.

A veil covered her face. Her hands rested in her lap. She didn’t move. Didn’t speak.

But she was there.

Allen turned slowly, the blood still warm on his cheek, his hand still hovering above the stone. “…Guys?”

“Wow…” they whispered in unison.

Allen took a step back.

No one else dared move.

Then—finally—she spoke.

Not aloud.

Inside.

Her voice echoed in his mind like a prayer wrapped in snow.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

“I said yes. Willingly. I believed.”

“He told me I would save them.”

Allen blinked.

The air tasted sweet—too sweet. Like wedding cake with arsenic icing. Something clung to the oxygen. Not blood. Not rot. Just… old sorrow.

“They gave me white robes. A ring.”

“Not armor. Not a blade.”

“They said I didn’t need one.”

Her fingers twitched in her lap.

The veil rustled softly in an unseen breeze.

Allen’s mouth was dry. He didn’t speak. Couldn’t.

“The first monster I saw used to be someone I trained with.”

“He bowed to me. And then he screamed. Because he remembered. Because he didn’t want to hurt me.”

“They rewrote him anyway.”

“They made me watch.”

A golden tear slid down from beneath the veil.

There was something about her voice—it wasn’t rage. Or judgment.

It was the hollowed-out tone of someone who had nothing left to break.

“I prayed. Every day. Every second. I thought the gods would stop it.”

“They didn’t.”

“They told me it was necessary.”

The light brightened around her, casting long shadows behind the group. The veil shifted again, and Allen could almost make out her face now—soft, pale, young. She looked like a woman who’d smiled a lot once.

Someone who probably laughed at the rain.

Now?

Just ruins behind glass.

“So I screamed.”

“And they called it defiance.”

“They called it ungrateful. Ungodly.”

“They burned the scream from my throat and replaced it with hymns.”

The altar pulsed under his palm again, like a heartbeat out of sync.

“I was a bride.”

“But not to a man.”

“To a lie.”

“A symbol they needed to feed their legend.”

“I was never meant to live.”

“I was meant to be remembered.”

And then the light dimmed.

The vision didn’t end violently.

It just… slipped.

Faded.

Like fog leaving the glass.

The altar went still.

And she was gone.

The room was so quiet Allen could hear his own breath.

He turned to look at the others.

Zoe’s mouth was open, unreadable.

Shea clutched her pendant tight, her brows furrowed.

Even Jane—giddy, unfiltered Jane—had nothing to say.

Allen finally spoke, his voice hoarse.

“That wasn’t just lore.”

Vivian nodded slowly. “That was her.”

Larissa stepped close to him again, her voice soft now. “You okay?”

He nodded.

Then Jane stepped forward, hands clenched at her sides. Her expression—oddly serious for once.

“We should save her!” she said. “Or them. I mean, she wasn’t alone, right? The knights with her… they looked like they fought for her. Or with her. Maybe they’re still in there, too.”

“Hell yeah we will,” Bella said, cracking her knuckles again with a snap of mana. “And maybe free some of those reprogrammed toaster grooms while we’re at it.”

“Marriage should be consensual,” Jane declared, raising a fist dramatically.

“She says, while suggesting an orgy on an altar five minutes ago,” Larissa muttered under her breath.

“I contain multitudes,” Jane replied proudly, flipping her hair.

Allen exhaled a low, tired chuckle. Not at them—with them.

“Multitudes of sins,” he added dryly.

“Hey, at least I’m consistent!” Jane grinned.

Shea leaned in, whispering to Bella, “So if Jane marries someone, is it gonna be in a lava chapel or blood fountain garden?”

Bella lit up. “Ooooh, blood garden. But with themed cupcakes.”

“We’re in a church,” Zoe muttered, glancing around at the ominous architecture—the twisted arches, the hanging relics, the unsettling stained glass that looked like it watched them back.

“We are the devil’s team,” Larissa grinned, baring her fangs just a little too wide, licking off a stray speck of blood like she was still in fight mode.

“Correction,” Allen raised a hand like a tired professor marking roll call. “We’re the top-rated devil’s team. Sponsored by chaos, sarcasm, and possibly several violation reports.”

“I want merch,” Jane whispered.

“No,” Allen and Zoe said at the same time.

Vivian adjusted her gloves and smirked. “We’re not exactly holy pilgrims here.”

“We’re not exactly innocent either,” Alice added with a sly tilt of her head, her cloak flickering unnaturally as she walked past an old altar.

“I mean… we’re kinda the revenge arc, not the redemption arc,” Shea added, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear as her eyes lingered on the faded mural above. “But sometimes revenge is the only justice left.”

The group quieted at that. The air shifted.

Allen stood a little straighter.

Then, he turned toward the next hall—toward whatever twisted trial waited. He didn’t speak, but his expression had shifted. Sharper. Focused. Less blade, more soul.

He wasn’t walking this one out as a sword.

He was going to finish it as himself.

And maybe—just maybe—get justice for the forgotten bride who’d never had a chance to fight back.

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