Villain MMORPG: Almighty Devil Emperor and His Seven Demonic Wives - Chapter 1587

Chapter 1587: No Cheating (Magic Castle Bonus)
Villain Ch 1587. No Cheating (Magic Castle Bonus)

Somewhere in the distance, a series of low, rhythmic thunks started echoing. The ground vibrated subtly. Trap mechanisms whirred like ticking bones inside a machine far too old and far too angry to care about consent.

They had to move.

Now.

“Regroup!” Arcana called, straightening his shoulders and pointing toward the shattered path ahead. “We advance in two formations. Red_King, Elio, front with me. Ranged and support follow thirty meters back. Mastercraft, get eyes on terrain.”

“Okay,” Mastercraft replied, scanning the cursed field ahead with narrowed eyes and a HUD flickering full of red warnings.

The players moved. Hesitant at first. Pride shattered. Libido crushed and confused. But they were still elite.

The corrupted land ahead was like a broken puzzle—jagged steps of black stone, patches of glowing moss that hissed like hot acid when disturbed, cursed sigils spinning faintly in the dirt, traps waiting like spiders in the dark.

And those traps?

They weren’t just cosmetic.

The first one triggered barely thirty steps in.

-SHINK—BOOM!

A spike trap launched from the ground, skewering a mid-level rogue who had been tiptoeing ahead like a cat.

“AH—what the—!”

He was dead before he even landed.

[Player ShadowReaper-XIV has died]

[Respawn Location: Ront City]

A second later, a geyser of green fire exploded from a rune tile, catching a party of three mages in the radius. One managed to shield. The other two were fried like enchanted tofu.

[Player MuffinSorcerer has died]

[Player K3ntaro has died]

[Respawn Location: Ront City]

“We can’t keep going like this,” Elio said sharply, glancing around. “We’ve to summon our dragons…”

Arcana nodded grimly. “Let’s try anyway.”

He tapped into his mount menu, hands moving fast, brows furrowed.

A magic circle opened in the air—crimson and gold.

Then a roar.

Valyssra, his emerald dragon, descended from the sky with a graceful spiral, her scales glittering like falling leaves of fire.

Elio followed suit. Azura’s sleek silver dragon blinked into the air with a sonic burst.

Red_King’s fire-coated beast emerged like a meteor.

Even Mastercraft’s iron-plated war dragon materialized, wings humming with magical reactors.

For a second—just one stupid second—they all smiled.

That was before the sky ripped open with a sound like thunder laughing.

And out of that tear?

Came them.

Huge wyverns.

Their screeches cut the sky. Black and bone-white, horns like swords, wings that kicked up hurricane gusts. They weren’t mounts. They weren’t even natural.

They were sentries.

Guards.

[System Warning: Enemy Unit – Emperor’s Sky Reapers (Lv. 97)]

[Directive: Eliminate Player Mounts – No Target Override]

The dragons barely had time to react. One got tackled mid-glide. Another screeched as it was pulled upward by its tail and dropped. Arcana’s Valyssra was tackled and forced into evasive flight, snapping and roaring as she was swarmed.

“What the fuck?!” James shouted. “Is this legal?!”

Gil ducked as a wyvern’s tail whipped past his head.

James aimed a shot upward, cursed, then muttered, “Guess the Emperor said no cheating here.”

The system didn’t even offer explanations.

The summoned dragons fought, but it was pointless. The Sky Reapers weren’t meant to be fair.

They were meant to send a message.

Walk!

Arcana growled as Valyssra vanished into recall sparks. “Mount support is disabled…”

Elio glanced up at his retreating dragon, wings flailing as it vanished into recall sparks, and scowled. Most of these players… They only had one ride. The devs had given out temporary dragons for the event—single use, non-combat, purely to reach the battlefield. Once knocked out of the sky or dismissed, they were gone. Irrecoverable.

But some of them—like him—did own their dragons. Permanent mounts. Bonded, leveled, loyal. Not just glorified taxis with wings.

And as Elio tightened his grip on his shield, he already knew what had to be done with them.

Elio exhaled. “We use them as bait.”

A hush fell.

Azura blinked. “Excuse me?”

“They’re still aggro magnets. Send them forward. Trigger traps. Distract the Reapers. We go on foot behind them.”

Arcana didn’t even hesitate. “Cruel… but logic. Let’s do it.”

The few remaining mount owners looked sick as they released their dragons with whispered goodbyes.

A player leaned down and patted his thunder lizard on the snout. “I’ll see you later.”

Then the dragons soared ahead.

Fire. Screams. Spells. Runes lit. Traps exploded. But this time, the players weren’t at the center of it.

Arcana pointed to the shifting path winding through death-soaked terrain toward the looming silhouette ahead.

“There! We run now. Cover each other!”

No one hesitated.

The entire raid party broke into a desperate sprint.

Boots slammed over cracked bones, splintering skulls underfoot. Burning bramble snapped like angry whips against their legs, and the air grew hotter—thicker—with every step. Ash billowed in choking clouds. Pools of glowing decay bubbled near the edges of the path, oozing curses that hissed at contact.

Behind them, chaos reigned. Booms echoed like war drums. Dragons roared in pain and fury. Wyverns shrieked like banshees. Magic flared in every color of desperation—shields, blasts, illusions—all lighting up the dying sky.

They didn’t stop.

Ten steps.

Twenty.

A hundred.

And then—they saw it.

The Gates.

Towering. Ancient. Two monstrous slabs of cursed blacksteel, bound in writhing red chains. Spikes jutted from every seam. And behind them…

The Cursed Crypts awaited.

But before they could even reach the broken bridge leading up to the front steps—

The earth cracked.

Then came the sound.

Growls.

Low. Deep. Many.

From the shadows between the rubble, through the fogged canyons, out of craters and cursed crevices—

They came.

Monsters.

Dozens. No—hundreds.

Flaming, mutated, grotesque. Demonic ogres with glowing chests. Bone hounds with eight legs. Eyeless mages floating, robes stitched with mouths. Cursed armor knights with no heads and massive blades twice their size.

[Mini-Boss Spawn – Final Gatekeeper Wave]

[Enemy Level Range: 100–120]

Azura slowed.

Red_King cursed.

James groaned. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Arcana didn’t blink.

He raised his sword, voice steady. “Formation!”

The monsters roared.

The gates pulsed.

And the final war truly began.