Villain MMORPG: Almighty Devil Emperor and His Seven Demonic Wives - Chapter 1534

Chapter 1534: Dragons of the Seven Sins [Part 2]
Villain Ch 1534. Dragons of the Seven Sins [Part 2]

Fifty spears of abyssal energy formed around him and launched—twelve piercing Valkazir’s wings, two into his chest, the rest pinning him to the stone.

[Valkazir – HP: 86%]

But Allen didn’t have time to finish him.

Because another roar hit.

From his left—Selgoraith, the Kiss of Lust, slithered in with her sinuous form and tendrils of mist that shimmered like silk. Her magic was charming, intoxicating—Allen could feel it clawing at the edge of his mind.

[Mental Resistance Check – Success.]

He growled and cast—

“Dark Storm.”

The sky imploded above them. Thunder cracked, and a vortex of black wind and jagged purple lightning slammed into Selgoraith, shredding her veil of illusions and knocking her back.

She hissed, recoiling—but not gone.

From behind, Allen could hear the others. Explosions, spells, and roars mixing together. Larissa’s bats shrieked. Shea’s [Tornado Dive] sent rubble crashing. Vivian’s whip lashed like a thunderclap. Even as Allen fought, he felt them holding the line. Barely.

Then—impact.

A blast of frost-fire slammed Allen from the right.

He flew across the chamber, body flipping twice before he slammed into the far wall with a bone-jarring crash. Cracks spiderwebbed behind him, dust choking the air.

He coughed. Blood on his lip.

His grip tightened on his blade.

[Skill Cooldowns: 2s – Soul Siphon ready]

“Not yet,” he growled.

He stepped forward.

Glutthorg, Maw of Gluttony, was charging now—mouths splitting across his torso, devouring the very mana from the air as he inhaled.

Allen ran toward him.

“Shadow Step!”

He teleported directly beneath the beast and slammed his sword upward into the underbelly.

Then again. And again. Three strikes in brutal rhythm.

The fourth he paired with…

“Soul Siphon!”

The magic lashed upward, ripping energy from Glutthorg and flooding it into Allen like a dark tide.

[HP Restored: +61,000]

Glutthorg roared, then retaliated by crashing down like a falling meteor.

Allen dove out at the last second, rolled, and threw his hand upward.

[Skill Activated: Stone Curse]

The stone glyph beneath Glutthorg froze his legs in place. His many mouths roared in frustration, chewing on air.

Allen leapt, and with a downward swing.

“Abyss Shatter.”

The ground exploded in spikes of black crystal and abyssal force. Glutthorg shrieked as the power pierced through him, reducing his defenses instantly.

[Glutthorg – DEF -30%. HP: 70%]

Then Nizhaleth came from the shadows.

Her body wasn’t charging—she oozed forward. Her eyes reflected Allen’s own face back at him. She whispered without speaking, her envy leaking through the very air.

Allen felt it claw at his confidence. A pressure, like the weight of every mistake. The sin of self-doubt.

He didn’t let it grow.

He stabbed forward.

Straight through her illusion.

Her eyes widened—just briefly—as the blade pierced her throat.

But her form faded, vanishing like smoke.

Behind him, she reformed—and slashed.

“Barrier.”

The slash broke across the invisible dome—sparks flying.

Allen turned and struck with a vicious backhand, then cast.

“Demonic Orbs.”

The glowing spheres encircled him. One by one, they fired—blasting Nizhaleth with pulsing abyssal shots. Each orb ruptured in a shriek of dark magic, shredding through her illusions.

[Nizhaleth – HP: 77%]

Allen didn’t let up.

He stepped forward into the chaos.

The air screamed with heat as Veldemorne, Queen of Pride, hovered above the platform. Her wings flared, beams of golden abyssal flame rained down—burning everything.

“Hellfire Rain.”

Allen responded in kind. Black flame poured from above, colliding with her divine fire mid-air. The chamber lit up in a storm of conflicting heat. Ash swirled like snow.

She met his gaze—and charged.

Their blades clashed.

She was faster than the others. More refined.

But Allen was relentless.

He parried, slashed low, headbutted her mid-strike, then followed with a vicious Telekinesis Blast that slammed her into the floor.

He charged forward again.

But this time—Xerrak blocked the way.

The greed dragon’s scales shimmered with embedded coins, and each movement jingled like a vault breaking open.

He roared and unleashed a torrent of gold-infused energy.

Allen dove into it.

“Barrier!”

The front layer held long enough for him to close the gap—then he slid under the blast, burst upward, and stabbed the blade between Xerrak’s plated ribs.

Gold clinked and flew as the impact tore coins free.

Allen twisted, activated.

“Shadow Step.”

He appeared directly behind Xerrak’s skull and plunged the sword into the base of the neck.

Xerrak screeched.

[Xerrak – HP: 62%]

From the corner of his eye, Allen saw Jane riding a skeletal golem, launching Corpse Explosion between Glutthorg and Drosma. The sloth dragon barely responded, leaking necrotic mist that caused massive slow debuffs.

“Jane, I need him down!”

“On it!” she called, voice wild with glee.

A second later, Zoe’s Tsunami slammed into Drosma’s side, pinning him long enough for Allen to leap, spin mid-air, and crash down on the dragon’s skull with a blade-first dive.

The platform cracked beneath the impact.

Drosma twitched once. Then fell.

[Drosma – Defeated]

One down. Six to go.

Allen stood in the center of it all—blood-slicked, cloak in tatters, sword glowing black-red. His breathing was heavy, but steady. Each inhale pulled in smoke, mana, and heat. Each exhale let out focus like steam off a boiling forge. His crimson eyes scanned the chaos unfolding around him—not just with strategy, but with the sharpened clarity of someone who was fully, violently alive in this moment.

The battlefield was hell.

The chamber was cracked and scorched in every direction, abyssal glyphs half-destroyed and glowing erratically beneath the shattered stone. Pillars had collapsed. Acidic blood stained nearly every surface. Some places still sizzled from magical residue.

And the dragons?

They were relentless.

None of them held onto one target for long. They attacked in unpredictable, chaotic patterns—circling, shifting, pouncing at random. One second Larissa was pinned under Valkazir’s claws, the next he had lunged at Zoe. Selgoraith had been tangling with Vivian when she suddenly vanished in a swirl of mist and appeared behind Alice instead, breathing mind-altering gas at point blank. Even Jane, mounted on a stitched horror of bones and shadows, had to scramble to cover Shea when Xerrak dove low to snap at her wings.

There was no rhythm. No clean lines. No order.

Just carnage.