Villain MMORPG: Almighty Devil Emperor and His Seven Demonic Wives - Chapter 1432

Chapter 1432: Underwhelming
Villain Ch 1432. Underwhelming

Allen barely needed a second to piece it together. He rolled his neck, sighing. “Must be because of that Arcane Guild thing,” he muttered. “Guess the news got out that we’re here.”

Larissa crossed her arms, her crimson gaze flicking over the newcomers. “But there’s no top guilds here.” Her lips curled slightly. “Guess it’ll be an easy one.”

Zoe scoffed. “Yeah. I mean, those mutants put up more of a fight than Sophia’s new guild.”

A deep chuckle rumbled from the other side of the room.

The supposed leader of the raiding party stepped forward.

A warrior, clad in dark gray armor, his massive greatsword resting on his shoulder. His face was partially hidden behind a steel visor, but the cocky grin was impossible to miss.

“Well, well,” he drawled. “The Devil Emperor himself.” His gaze flicked to the girls. “And his little harem.”

Larissa’s expression darkened.

Allen sighed. “You know, people who start fights with that line usually don’t last long.”

The warrior just laughed. “Oh, I think we’ll be just fine.” He gestured toward his party. “See, when we heard you were down here, we figured you were too greedy to share the loot. And, well…” His eyes gleamed. “The bounty on your head ain’t small, Emperor.”

Allen yawned. “Oh, is that still a thing?”

Zoe snickered. “Cute. You think this’ll go your way.”

The warrior’s smirk twitched slightly, but he didn’t waver. “We have a hundred people, you have eight. You’re strong, yeah, but numbers—”

“Don’t mean shit when they’re bad warriors,” Larissa finished, her voice flat.

The enemy forces bristled at the insult, some shifting their grips on their weapons, others glancing at each other with barely restrained annoyance. These weren’t just random nobodies. They weren’t from top-tier guilds, sure, but they weren’t weak.

Two guild banners were hoisted behind the crowd—Twilight Vanguard and The Iron Fangs. Both were ranked at the top of middle-tier guilds, known for defending villages, winning events for low and mid-tier players, and generally dominating in fights where high-level players weren’t involved. They had experience, they had numbers, and they had confidence.

That’s why they were cocky.

But they had never faced the Devil Emperor.

The warrior in front scoffed. “Your reputation is impressive, but you’ve been riding on fear. Against actual organized players, you’re outmatched.”

Allen sighed, rolling his shoulders. “You really think this is about ‘organization’?” He flexed his fingers, his crimson gaze sweeping over the gathered enemies. “You’re mistaking raiding dungeons for fighting actual monsters.”

The warrior’s face hardened. “Get them.”

The moment the words left his lips, the entire hundred-man force charged.

Rogues vanished into the shadows.

Mages lifted their staffs, forming spells in the air.

Frontline warriors rushed forward, weapons raised.

Allen exhaled.

His fingers twitched.

– BOOM!

The ground exploded beneath them.

A Dark Storm erupted, black lightning crackling through the battlefield, striking down players instantly, their bodies writhing as paralysis effects locked them in place. The sheer force of the magic shattered stone, sending debris flying, knocking weaker players off their feet.

Screams filled the air.

But Allen’s gaze was already locked onto the leader.

The warrior barely had time to react before Demonic Orbs formed in Allen’s palm, racing toward him.

The man raised his sword to block— Too slow.

The orbs exploded on impact, the force sending him crashing into the wall, leaving a deep crater in the metal plating.

Allen cracked his knuckles. “Next?”

The battlefield erupted into chaos.

Zoe’s Tsunami surged forward, an overwhelming wave engulfing the mages before they could even finish their chants. Their spells fizzled out, their bodies ragdolled in the current before smashing against the broken lab walls. A few managed to stay standing, only for Larissa to descend upon them, her Blood Manipulation forming razor-thin tendrils that sliced through their defenses like paper.

Vivian danced through the chaos, her whip cracking like a viper, disarming warriors before they could even raise their weapons. One fighter lunged at her—only for his mind to shatter under the effects of her Nightmare Trap. He dropped his sword, screaming in terror at invisible horrors only he could see.

Jane laughed, Necromancy swirling around her as skeletal warriors clawed their way from the ground, grabbing rogues before they could land their sneak attacks. One tried to stab her—she waved a hand, and Corpse Explosion turned his fallen ally into a bomb that obliterated the entire squad.

Bella twirled, sending Ice Lances soaring through the air, freezing anyone too slow to dodge. Shea swooped down from above, her Tornado Dive turning a cluster of archers into a mess of broken bodies.

Allen’s gaze landed on the remaining warriors, their ranks thinning faster than they could react. His lips curled.

“You need to know your place.”

He raised his hand—Hellfire Rain ignited the air above them. The sky itself burned, meteors of black fire crashing into the last remnants of the enemy guilds.

The screams didn’t last long.

When the fire settled, only burned corpses remained.

The battlefield was silent.

Smoke curled into the air, mixing with the stench of charred flesh and burning metal. The floor, once cold steel, was now a blackened wasteland, cracked and ruined from the force of Hellfire Rain.

And in the middle of it all— The Devil Emperor stood.

He exhaled slowly, surveying the devastation around him. His abyssal aura pulsed, the edges of his coat flickering like shadows licking at reality itself. His crimson eyes gleamed in the darkness, reflecting the scattered embers of destruction around him.

He laughed.

A deep, resonant, almost musical laugh. Not of joy. Not of satisfaction. But of something darker.

Pure, unfiltered chaos.

The sound echoed through the ruined halls, reverberating off the shattered walls.

A hundred players, two entire guilds, reduced to spectators of their own annihilation. They couldn’t move. They couldn’t speak. They could only witness. And what they witnessed was monstrous.

Allen lifted his hand, rolling his wrist, the last traces of abyssal fire still dancing at his fingertips. His expression was relaxed, amused even, as if he had just finished a casual spar instead of massacring a hundred players.

His laughter faded into something else—a low hum, like he was simply enjoying the moment. His gaze drifted across the battlefield, his head tilting slightly.

“I expected more,” he mused, tapping his fingers against the hilt of his sword. His voice was smooth, measured, as if he were merely commenting on a slightly disappointing meal. “This was… underwhelming.”