Villain MMORPG: Almighty Devil Emperor and His Seven Demonic Wives - Chapter 1443

Chapter 1443: The Witch’s Grudge
Villain Ch 1443. The Witch’s Grudge

The moment Alice laid eyes on her, she froze.

Because it was her.

But not her.

The past version of herself.

The one who had once screamed in rage, who had torn apart those who had betrayed her, who had cursed this place with every ounce of her broken soul.

Her eyes—the same haunting—burned with pure, unfiltered malice.

She opened her mouth— And the room echoed with a distorted, broken voice, layered with whispers of agony and hatred.

“You abandoned me,” she wailed. Her voice sounded like a banshee.

[BOSS BATTLE INITIATED]

The Witch’s Grudge <Lv 230>

Alice took a step back. “…Shit.”

Zoe whistled, her tentacles twitching. “So, uh. Do we kill her, or is this a therapy session?”

Jane frowned. “She’s a damn ghost. And she looks pissed.”

The witch’s grudge lifted her hands.

The room darkened, the air twisting as the shadows lashed outward, reaching for them.

Allen grinned, his aura flaring to life, black lightning crackling across his fingertips.

“Looks like we’ve got our final boss.”

And then— She attacked.

The Witch’s Grudge moved like a shadow, her cursed form flickering, splitting into countless dark silhouettes that lunged forward from every direction. The air shivered, her eerie wail echoing as tendrils of abyssal energy whipped toward them.

Allen dodged effortlessly, his body vanishing in an instant—Shadow Step activating, his form reappearing behind her in a flicker of black mist. His sword was already raised, the obsidian edge gleaming with abyssal fire as he swung it downward.

The blade sliced through her, but…

-Shhhk!

The wound was shallow.

Not enough.

Not even close.

The Witch’s Grudge turned her head slowly, her glowing eyes locking onto his.

And then—she grabbed the blade.

Her fingers curled around the steel, her ghostly form solidifying just enough to hold it in place.

A dark, sickening aura spread from where she touched it, corrupting the metal, twisting it with a curse that made the edges pulse unnaturally.

Allen’s eyes narrowed.

“It hurts… It hurts…”

The words came in a whisper, layered, broken—like a dozen voices speaking over each other.

Then she wailed, her voice sharp and filled with something that sank into the bones.

“Why don’t you listen to me?!”

A pulse of pure malice erupted from her form, the air around them warping, trembling under her sorrow and rage.

Allen felt it instantly. The way the cursed energy crept up his sword, tendrils slithering toward his hands, trying to crawl under his skin, into his veins, into his very soul.

A curse.

An attempt to mark him—to chain him the way she had been chained.

Allen reacted fast. His foot shot forward, a brutal kick to her chest, sending her crashing to the ground.

-BAM!

She hit the floor with force, the cursed energy around her pulsing violently, flickering like a glitching nightmare.

Zoe exhaled sharply. “Damn, she tried to hex you!”

Larissa gripped her blades, stepping forward. “Now’s our chance! We take her down before she tries that again—”

But before anyone could move— Alice stepped up.

Her footsteps echoed, steady, deliberate, cutting through the silence. She walked past Allen, her eyes locked onto the fallen specter of herself, her expression unreadable.

Then, softly, she said, “Let me fight her.”

Allen raised an eyebrow. “Alice—”

She didn’t look away from the grudge. “She’s me.”

The words were quiet, but heavy.

She clenched her fists, her magic crackling faintly around her fingers. “And if someone has to kill her—”

Her expression hardened, her voice turning sharp.

“It’s going to be me.”

The team hesitated.

Then— Allen grinned. “Fine.”

He took a step back, his sword vanishing into the shadows, his amusement never fading. “Show me something good.”

Alice exhaled.

Then— She stepped forward.

And the Witch’s Grudge rose from the ground, her form twisting, distorting, her curse flaring back to life.

The two witches—past and present—stood across from each other.

And the real battle began.

Alice inhaled slowly.

The Witch’s Grudge stood before her. The darkness around her wasn’t just malice—it was pain, the raw remnants of a soul that had been shattered and left to rot.

And Alice felt every bit of it.

This fight wasn’t just about winning.

It was about proving who she was now.

The air thickened, the pressure pressing against her skin as the cursed magic in the room pulsed, warping the very air around them. The others were watching, standing ready, weapons in hand, prepared to interfere if she needed them.

But she wouldn’t need them.

She refused to need them.

The Witch’s Grudge moved first.

The specter vanished, a blur of cursed energy, materializing behind Alice in an instant.

Alice whirled, hands already moving.

“Shadow Bind!”

The darkness around them snapped to life, thick tendrils of pure void lashing outward, wrapping around the grudge’s limbs, locking her in place.

For a brief second, Alice felt a flicker of satisfaction— Then the chains shattered.

The Witch’s Grudge twisted violently, her form distorting, as if her very existence refused to obey normal reality. A surge of shadow energy exploded outward, slamming into Alice like a wrecking force, sending her skidding across the floor.

A sharp sting ran through her side where the energy had burned through her defenses, and she gritted her teeth.

She barely had time to register the pain. But she decided to keep pushing.

“ILLUSIONARY MIRROR.”

A flicker of mirrored images burst to life around her, identical copies of herself scattering in different directions, their presence distorting reality, making it impossible to tell which one was the real Alice.

The Witch’s Grudge paused, her glowing eyes scanning the illusions, her head tilting in unnatural angles.

Then she whispered, “Lies.”

A pulse of pure shadow energy erupted from her, dispersing the fakes instantly—and Alice barely had time to dodge before a spike of black energy shot from the ground, nearly impaling her.

Alice rolled, landing on one knee, hands trembling from the sheer force of the attack.

The grudge was fast.

Too fast.