Villain MMORPG: Almighty Devil Emperor and His Seven Demonic Wives - Chapter 1541

Chapter 1541: Three Headed Dragon Meme (Dragon Bonus William_Tex)
Villain Ch 1541. Three Headed Dragon Meme (Dragon Bonus William_Tex)

The golden-eyed head swung back toward them, scowling.

“You mock the court of kings?”

“Your insolence will be your undoing.”

The middle head snorted quietly, adding,

“Save your threats. If they survived the Seven Sins and the Abyssal Knights, they’re not fools. Just reckless.”

The right head grinned widely, tongue lolling slightly between its fangs.

“Guys, guys. Can I nom one of them? Just a little bite? Like a nibble? Pleaaaase?”

Allen raised his sword, pointing the cracked tip at the massive dragon.

“I’m here for the throne,” he said evenly. “Not for tea. Not for threats. And definitely not for snacks.”

The golden-eyed head’s nostrils flared.

“Bold.”

“But foolish.”

The middle head hummed thoughtfully.

“Perhaps not. There is a chance—a slim one—that they may endure.”

“Slimmer now,” the golden one muttered grimly.

The right head jostled the others slightly, almost knocking the golden head’s horns with its own.

“We can still have tea later, right? After the smashing?”

Allen exhaled sharply through his nose, resetting his focus.

No matter how absurd this felt, the truth was unmistakable.

This was the final guardian.

The final trial.

Behind him, he heard the subtle sounds of the girls preparing—potions uncorked, mana surging back to ready levels, weapons drawn, armor re-tightened despite their exhaustion.

Allen cracked his neck once to the side, the sound loud in the tense air.

“Alright, Your Majesties,” he said dryly, “enough stalling.”

He dragged his sword up into a ready stance, crimson mana coiling around him like a living storm.

“If you think we came this far just to kneel…”

He smirked, eyes flashing with demonic fire.

“…then you’re all dumber than the third head.”

The derpy right head gasped, scandalized.

“Rude!”

The middle head growled lowly.

The golden-eyed head’s crown of horns gleamed as it lifted itself higher, abyssal power radiating in waves strong enough to crack the polished floor beneath Allen’s boots.

“Then prepare yourselves, mortals.”

“We will test your ambition.”

“We will break your resolve.”

“And if you still stand…”

The golden head’s voice dropped into a thunderous growl.

“The throne shall be yours.”

The chamber darkened as mana compressed.

The golden-eyed head turned slowly toward him, unamused. The middle head huffed like an angry teacher. The third head, of course, just beamed at him like he’d been told a particularly hilarious joke.

Allen grinned wider, raising his sword a little higher.

They were serious.

He was serious.

But this?

This was perfect.

The final battle—the true trial for the Abyssal Throne—was about to begin.

Azdraeth—the King of the Abyss, the Forgotten Sovereign—rose fully from his throne, his three monstrous heads arching upward.

The golden-eyed head glared down at them with chilling, royal disdain.

The red-eyed middle head measured them like prey worthy of study.

And the derpy, bright yellow-eyed head? It wobbled eagerly and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, “Let’s gooo~!”

Then the world shattered into chaos.

The dragon moved faster than anything that size should have been able to.

The left head reared back and unleashed a tidal wave of abyssal flame.

The middle head snarled, spitting compressed lances of void energy with sniper-like precision.

The right head? It… flung a random arc of pink-glowing mist that somehow still detonated into an explosion of force, tossing Vivian and Bella sideways with shrieks of surprise.

Allen charged straight into it.

“Barrier!”

The flame washed over him first, the shield cracking instantly under the intense heat, forcing him to brace with both hands on the hilt of his sword. His boots scraped against the polished floor, leaving deep gouges as he slid backward from the sheer pressure.

But he didn’t stop.

He couldn’t.

Because in the midst of the flames, he saw the middle head targeting him again—this time faster, more precise.

Allen growled low in his throat and moved.

‘Shadow Step.’

He blinked through the air, reappearing behind a massive black pillar just as the void lance punched through it like it was made of paper.

The explosion rocked the chamber. Debris flew. The floor shook.

Allen rolled forward out of the collapsing rubble and lunged at Azdraeth’s claw that was slamming down toward Larissa.

He intercepted it mid-fall—blade flashing upward—and struck.

Steel met scale.

The impact reverberated through his arms, a brutal shockwave of force that nearly shattered his wrists. But his sword bit, leaving a shallow but definite gash across the dragon’s massive talon.

Azdraeth’s middle head snarled lowly.

“Better.”

“But not enough.”

Suddenly, around the throne, portals tore open—like wounds in the fabric of space. From them poured Abyssal Minions—smaller creatures, twisted echoes of their sovereign, ranging from clawed hounds to armored knights wreathed in black mist.

“Minions?!” Zoe shouted, spinning her trident to skewer one of the first that lunged at her.

“They’re stalling us!” Alice yelled from the back, already conjuring shadow bindings to slow the flood.

It was clear.

Azdraeth wasn’t interested in them.

His three heads—especially the two serious ones—were focused solely on Allen.

The derpy one, however, couldn’t resist chiming in gleefully.

“Look at him! So shiny! So angry! Can we keep him??”

“Focus!” the red-eyed middle head snapped.

Allen tore through a group of minions with a wide arc of his sword, panting hard. Sweat and blood mixed on his face. Every move cost him stamina he could barely afford to waste—but he couldn’t slow down.

He wouldn’t.

“Abyss Shatter.”

He slammed the ground with the full weight of his abyss-enhanced strength.

The floor cracked outward in an eruption of black crystal spikes, skewering five minions at once and forcing Azdraeth to shift his footing slightly.

Even a small unbalancing mattered.

Allen lunged, pouring mana into his body until his muscles screamed.

He closed the distance between him and Azdraeth’s chest in a heartbeat, and—

“Demonic Lances.”

Fifty spears of abyssal energy materialized in the air around him and hurled themselves at the dragon’s armored hide.

Two landed solid blows, piercing just between the gaps in Azdraeth’s massive scales.

Azdraeth growled. His left head narrowed its golden eyes.

“Impressive.”

“But not enough.”