Villain MMORPG: Almighty Devil Emperor and His Seven Demonic Wives - Chapter 1250
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Chapter 1250: I SHOULD Scare Them Chapter 1250: I SHOULD Scare Them Villain Ch 1250.
I SHOULD Scare Them The next day rolled into evening.
The whole vibe of Hell’s Gate had shifted.
Yesterday, the game was chaotic in its own ridiculous way-wedding bells, flower petals, and desperate proposals flooding the chat like some unholy combination of Vegas and a rom-com gone wrong.
Female players in wedding gowns chasing high-level guys across the map was peak comedy, especially when some dudes legit logged off mid-sprint to avoid the chaos.
But now?
That whole love-fest aesthetic was gone, replaced with a completely different beast: the calm before the storm.
The city of Debaris was practically vibrating with anticipation.
Streets were packed, but this time, it wasn’t brides-to-be or party invites.
Players-high-level ones, the kind who made casuals look like cannon fodder-were prepping like their lives depended on it.
Blacksmiths were working overtime; and the clanging of metal echoing from every corner as NPCs and crafting players churned out armor repairs and weapon upgrades.
Merchants had hiked up their prices, too, because of course they did-supply and demand rules.
Meanwhile, guild banners hung from rooftops, representing the big names that everyone either wanted to join or avoid crossing paths with.
The Order of Valiance, Ironclad Legion, Celestial Vanguard, Sanctuary -they were all here, staking their claim on what was shaping up to be the war event.
The buzz wasn’t just about in-game loot, either.
This time, the stakes were real.
This wasn’t an average event where the players walked away with a shiny sword or a cool title.
Oh no.
This one came with game-changing rewards: epic-class items, rare reputation boosts, and-an invite to the exclusive company conference.
A legit real-world event where they could meet the game devs, shake hands with the owner, and maybe even snag some insider info.
Plus, they’d get to rock up in a suit or dress because, apparently, even gamers need to class it up once in a while.
And let’s not forget the cherry on top: cold, hard cash for the top three scorers.
Actual money.
Real-life dollars.
Suddenly, every grindy sweatlord in the game was frothing at the mouth.
And the scoring system?
It was wild.
Everything counted.
Kill a monster?
Points.
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Heal an ally?
Points.
Fix a damaged wall?
Points.
Build a trap?
Points.
Assist someone mid-battle?
You guessed it-points.
But the big ticket was, of course, dealing damage to the villains or taking one down.
That’s where the real glory lay, and everyone knew it.
The battlefield was set in Debaris, a city that looked like it was ripped straight out of a medieval war epic.
This was no random pick by the devs-it was one of the most popular high-level zones, crawling with maxed-out players and their tricked-out gear.
It was also smack dab in villain territory, making it the perfect stage for the chaos to come.
But not everyone was invited to this high-level carnage.
For the mid-level grinders, there was a separate event in the Orc Fields, where players had to take down waves of hulking orcs while defending a convoy.
And for the noobs?
They got their own shot at glory in the Underground Dungeon, a labyrinth filled with traps, low-level mobs, and three gnarly boss monsters.
Each dungeon had a core that needed to be destroyed within a time limit, and the best players from those events would walk away with S-class gear tailored to their level.
It was a smart move from the devs-splitting the player base into three tiers kept things from getting too crowded while still giving everyone a shot at something awesome.
But make no mistake, the spotlight was on Debaris.
This was the big leagues, and only the best players were going to come out on top.
The in-game clock ticked closer to event time, and you could feel the tension building.
Global chat was a mess of hype, speculation, and, of course, trash talk.
“Bro, you couldn’t even kill a dungeon rat.
Sit down.” “Looking for a healer!
Must have at least two epics and maxed skills!
No freeloaders!” shouted one player, their voice cutting through the crowd like a whip.
“Bro, you’re asking for a god-tier healer at this rate,” another replied from the sidelines, laughing.
“Why don’t you just DM the devs for a raid boss to heal you?” A third chimed in, “He’s just salty because his last ‘healer’ forgot to slot their potions.
One wipe, and boom, the entire raid group turned into a meme in global chat!” The first player groaned but didn’t deny it.
“Hey, that’s not on me.
If you’re signing up as a healer, ACT like one.
Anyway, I’m not risking that crap tonight.
This event’s way too important.” Meanwhile, the noise level in Debaris City was at an all-time high.
Every corner had its own flavor of chaos.
“Potions!
Mana boosts, health regen!
Buy one, get one free for the next five minutes!” “TRAPS!
I got spike traps, snare traps, bomb traps-whatever you need to blow some mobs to hell!” “Who’s selling mounts?
I need something faster than this garbage tier horse!” Somewhere near the fountain in the town square, a heavily armored Warlord barked orders at his guild members, his voice like rolling thunder.
It was the leader of Sanctuary.
“Listen up!” he roared.
“Healers stick with the ranged.
Tanks-you KNOW what to do.
Hold the damn line, or I swear, you’ll be repairing your armor with scraps when I’m through with you.” One of his guild members chuckled nervously.
“Uh, boss, do you maybe wanna tone it down?
You’re scaring the recruits.” “I SHOULD scare them,” Warlord snapped.
“This isn’t some PvE stroll through a noob dungeon.
The company conference is on the line.
You know what that means?
Fancy suits, money prizes, and a shot at fame.
So, if anyone’s slacking off, they can find another guild.” Not far away, Elio stood tall in his freshly earned High Paladin armor, the gold and white plate glowing faintly under the dying sunlight.
Beside him, Gil leaned against a nearby railing, smirking as he inspected his daggers.
“You see Arcana’s new class?” Gil asked, flicking one of his blades lazily.
“Bet you five gold he’s gonna milk that for all it’s worth tonight.” CREATORS’ THOUGHTS UnholyGod Your gift is the motivation for my creation.
Give me more motivation!
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