Villain MMORPG: Almighty Devil Emperor and His Seven Demonic Wives - Chapter 1539

Chapter 1539: Final Act
Villain Ch 1539. Final Act

Vivian grinned weakly. “Let’s go. Let’s just finish this already.”

Shea stumbled to her feet, swaying slightly. “I’m ready to pass out on that damn throne if that’s what it takes.”

Jane was already gathering her scattered bones back into her storage ring. “Crown, throne, parade, please. I’m not asking much.”

Zoe straightened. “Let’s end it.”

But Allen lifted a hand—calm, sharp.

“Hold.”

The girls turned to him, blinking.

“Get your potions. Heal everything you can,” Allen said, voice steady but firm. “Before we step through that door.”

He stared into the abyss beyond, the faint light of the glyph painting his battered form in blood-red hues.

“We don’t know what’s next. And my guess?” His lips curled into a faint, razor-sharp grin.

“It’ll be another battle.”

Nobody argued.

The girls fumbled through their inventories, their hands moving automatically. Soft ping and rustle sounds filled the space as they pulled out bottles—glowing vials of red, blue, green, and silver.

Vivian was the first to gulp hers down, head tilted back as the healing potion drained in a few seconds flat. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and sighed heavily. “Gods, that tastes worse every time.”

Shea, hovering slightly to keep the pressure off her battered wings, didn’t even grimace as she downed two in a row. “If it keeps me alive, I’ll drink swamp water.”

Jane chugged her health potion and immediately followed with a stamina one, sighing in bliss as a small pop of sparkles surrounded her from the energy boost. “There. I’m ready to commit crimes against throne rooms again.”

Bella flipped her potion in the air before catching it and drinking it with a little flourish, her tails swaying lazily. “If there’s a parade waiting on the other side, count me in.”

Zoe was calmer about it, methodical—one mana potion, one HP potion, precise timing between gulps. Alice mirrored her movements, though she visibly shuddered at the aftertaste.

Larissa, as usual, didn’t flinch. She drank her potions with efficiency, pulling out one after another like she was simply reloading a weapon.

Allen took his time, the glass vials feeling oddly fragile in his bloodstained hands. He drank, feeling the cool rush of magic flood his battered body. Muscles stitched themselves back together, mana pools refilled, bones reset with dull cracks.

He wiped the corner of his mouth, eyes hardening.

Then—without another word—they moved forward.

They crossed the ruined battlefield of the throne chamber, stepping around shattered knight armor and scorched glyphs. The broken world behind them faded into the humming, almost expectant silence ahead.

They passed through the huge archway.

And entered a new place entirely.

The second chamber was… different.

Neat. Grand. Almost pristine compared to the destruction behind them. It was like stepping from a war zone into a cathedral untouched by time.

The floor was polished obsidian, smooth enough to see vague reflections. Massive abyssal braziers lined the walls, casting tall, flickering shadows. The ceiling soared far overhead, so high it disappeared into darkness, with thick black chains dangling like ornaments rather than prison bindings.

And at the very end of the chamber… The throne.

It wasn’t just big.

It was gigantic.

A monstrous structure of blackened steel and deep crimson crystal, shaped with brutal beauty. Spiked, yet regal. It was so massive that an ordinary human would look like an insect seated there. Its sheer presence dominated the entire hall.

Intricate abyssal runes crawled across its base like veins, pulsing faintly with power. The back of the throne stretched all the way toward the ceiling, almost like it was trying to pierce into another world.

Jane let out a long whistle. “Well… there’s your throne, Allen.”

She smirked and jabbed her thumb at it. “Though it’s a bit too big for you.”

Allen gave a short, humorless chuckle under his breath.

Bella tilted her head, looking up and up at the towering structure. “I wonder who sat there before?”

“Definitely not human,” Alice said, adjusting her gloves and peering suspiciously around the chamber, as if expecting traps.

“Bet it was another dragon,” Zoe said dryly, crossing her arms.

Vivian’s whip curled lazily around her hand as she studied the vast seat. “I’m thinking…” she said slowly. “They said they want to replace someone to claim the throne, right? It’s less of a ‘sit on it and rule’ deal. More like… a stage.”

“For a final act,” Larissa finished, smiling thinly. “Or a final trial.”

“At least,” she added with a chuckle, “we have a throne big enough to fit all of us.”

Bella snorted. “Forget the throne. What we need now is a parade.”

The sound of rustle echoed around the chamber—but none of them were theirs.

The air shifted. It thickened. A new presence bled into the room, unseen but undeniable.

And then— The voices.

This time, clearer. Distinct.

“So… you survived. Interesting.”

The voice was deep, but lazy. Casual. Like someone talking over a drink at a tavern rather than greeting intruders in a sacred place.

“They’re persistent, I’ll give them that. But worthy?”

“Hardly.”

A second voice spoke—cooler, measured. It carried a sharpness like an unsheathed blade. Every word was deliberate, carefully weighed.

Allen’s hand tightened on his sword.

There was a third voice too—older, deeper. It rumbled like distant thunder across the bones of the chamber, commanding and cold.

“Enough. Watch your tongue.”

“You forget your place, brother.”

The casual voice laughed easily.

“What, scared they’ll hear me? It’s not like they’ll survive long enough to tell anyone.”

The sharp voice responded flatly.

“Their resilience is not in question. Their worthiness, however, is.”

Allen stepped forward, his voice cutting cleanly into the unseen conversation. “If you’re going to keep talking like we’re not here,” he said, eyes narrowing, “at least have the guts to show yourselves.”

The casual one laughed—a sharp, bark-like sound.

“Ooooh, feisty. I like him.”

The thunderous one rumbled again, a warning.

“Silence. He will speak when summoned, not before.”