Villain MMORPG: Almighty Devil Emperor and His Seven Demonic Wives - Chapter 1268

Chapter 1268: Dim Light Chapter 1268: Dim Light Villain Ch 1268.

Dim Light Elio forced himself to his feet, his breathing ragged.

“You talk too much.” Allen grinned, his blade glowing with dark energy as he lunged forward.

The strike was fast-too fast.

Elio barely managed to parry, the impact sending him skidding back.

His health bar dipped into the red.

“You’re finished,” Allen said, his tone colder now.

He raised his blade, dark energy swirling around him.

Elio braced himself, his grip on his sword tightening.

“Not yet.” His voice carried resolve, even as exhaustion weighed on his limbs.

The golden light of his blade flickered faintly, a reflection of his dwindling strength.

He knew the odds were against him, but surrender wasn’t an option.

The gates, his allies, and the players depending on him-he couldn’t fail.

Allen’s smirk deepened, his glowing crimson eyes narrowing.

“How noble,” he said, his voice dripping with mockery.

“But nobility won’t save you.” Elio surged forward, his sword blazing as he aimed for a decisive strike.

But before he could close the distance, Allen’s movements blurred.

Faster than Elio could track, the Devil Emperor sidestepped, his blade flashing in a deadly arc.

Pain exploded in Elio’s hand as the blade pierced through his palm, the dark energy searing into his flesh.

He screamed, the sound raw and agonized, his sword slipping from his grasp and clattering to the ground below.

“Pathetic,” Allen said softly, his voice calm and cutting.

He twisted the blade, forcing another cry from Elio as blood streamed down his arm.

The golden glow around him flickered, then faded entirely.

Elio’s legs buckled, his strength failing him.

“No… not like this…” he gasped, his free hand clutching at the hilt of Allen’s sword in a desperate attempt to pull it free.

Allen yanked his blade out, letting Elio fall to his knees.

The Devil Emperor hovered above him, his wings beating slowly as he watched his opponent with an expression that was equal parts amusement and disdain.

“Your light dims, Paladin,” Allen said, his voice steady and cold.

Elio’s body trembled, his knees hitting the cracked earth as he struggled to stay upright.

The searing pain in his hand was relentless, blood dripping from the wound and pooling beneath him.

His vision blurred as the effects of Abyssal Descent took hold, the spectral hands clawing at his weakened form and sapping what little strength he had left.

Allen stood over him, his crimson blade gleaming with Elio’s blood.

The Devil Emperor’s smirk didn’t waver, his wings casting an ominous shadow over his kneeling opponent.

“I warned you,” he said softly, his voice low and venomous.

“You were never going to win.” Elio’s lips parted, but no words came out.

His strength was gone, his body refusing to move as the swirling vortex beneath him grew stronger.

The spectral hands wrapped around his legs and torso, pulling him down into the abyss.

“Not yet…” Elio managed to whisper, his voice barely audible.

His gaze shifted toward the gates in the distance, now barely holding against the relentless assault.

The Verdant Colossi were gone, the walls cracked and crumbling as the villains tore through the defenders.

His allies-his friends-were fighting with everything they had, but it wasn’t enough.

His sword lay out of reach, its faint golden glow flickering weakly.

Elio reached for it, his bloody hand trembling, but before he could grasp the hilt, Allen stepped forward, his boot crushing the blade into the dirt.

“It’s over,” Allen said, his tone cold and final.

He raised his blade high, its edge glowing with dark energy.

“Goodbye, Paladin.” The final blow came swift and merciless, the crimson blade slicing through Elio’s chest.

His body jerked, a sharp gasp escaping his lips before his health bar hit zero.

The golden light around him extinguished, leaving only darkness.

[Player Mac Has Been Defeated.] Allen pulled his blade free, letting Elio’s lifeless body fall into the swirling abyss below.

The spectral hands dragged him under, and the vortex closed with a deafening roar, leaving no trace of the once-mighty paladin.

For a moment, there was silence.

Then Allen turned, his eyes glowing with satisfaction as he gazed toward the battlefield.

The gates were barely holding, the defenders scattered and struggling to regroup.

His subordinates-Shea, Larissa, Jane, Vivian, and Bella-were all dominating their respective fronts, their combined assault driving the defenders to the brink of collapse.

Allen smirked, his voice calm as he spoke to the void where Elio once stood.

“We’ll meet again at Debaris.” With a beat of his wings, he rose higher into the sky, surveying the chaos below.

The battlefield was his masterpiece, a tapestry of destruction and despair woven by the relentless onslaught of his subordinates and the failure of the defenders to hold the line.

The gates of Debaris were within reach, and nothing could stop him now.

He turned his gaze toward the crumbling walls in the distance.

The massive gates now groaned under the relentless barrage from his forces.

The defenders on the walls were scattered, their focus fractured by the assault led by Larissa, Jane, Vivian, and Bella.

Explosions of magic lit the air, but it was clear the defenders were outmatched.

Allen’s voice echoed through the battlefield, low but carrying undeniable authority.

“Advance.” Below, his monstrous army surged forward, the horde of undead and summoned creatures crashing against what remained of the tanks and melee defenders.

The line had broken; the front had fallen.

Any remaining hope of holding the city now rested with the crumbling walls.

Allen’s wings carried him effortlessly toward Debaris, his dark crimson armor glowing faintly as he approached.

He could see the desperation in the eyes of the players on the walls, their spells and arrows doing little to stem the tide of destruction.

He relished their fear, the way their gazes darted to him with mounting panic.

He descended smoothly, landing amidst the chaos near the gates.

The ground trembled under his presence, and the defenders nearby froze, their weapons faltering in their hands.

“Your city is mine,” Allen said, his voice calm and measured.

His blade appeared in his hand as he strode toward the gates.  CREATORS’ THOUGHTS UnholyGod Your gift is the motivation for my creation.

Give me more motivation!

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