Villain MMORPG: Almighty Devil Emperor and His Seven Demonic Wives - Chapter 1596

Chapter 1596: This Throne isn’t Meant for Mortals
Villain Ch 1596. This Throne isn’t Meant for Mortals

Alex whispered, “He’s moving?”

Azura, still gripping her dagger, snarled and took a step forward again—but the noble head of Azdraeth blocked her this time with a low growl, like it knew exactly what was coming.

Allen’s shadow pulsed.

Then he dropped.

“Abyss Shatter.”

A flicker of black lightning chased his body through the sky. His descent cracked the very clouds—like the world held its breath.

Father^Alex raised his staff in a panic. “Barrier—!”

The golden shield barely formed before it shattered like glass.

Cracks spiderwebbed through the earth. Every player within fifty meters was blasted off their feet, HP bars nosediving as DEF debuffs stacked.

And when Allen hit the ground—

-BOOM!

The entire battlefield shook.

Stone shattered beneath his boots. His sword plunged into the soil with a monstrous crack, releasing a tidal wave of raw abyssal energy.

A blast of black and violet exploded outward in every direction.

Some screamed.

Some cursed.

Some dropped dead on the spot.

Allen laughed.

And not the chill, lazy chuckle he used at briefings or casual moments.

No.

This was the real one.

His devil laugh—deep, sharp, layered in something old and dark and absolutely unhinged. A sound that crawled inside their ears and made their bones want to break just to escape.

He let the dark side take over, completely.

Eyes glowing blood-gold. Aura swallowing everything. The cruel monarch unchained.

He straightened slowly, blood mist curling at his feet like the throne followed him. His blade pulsed. His cloak flared. His rings glowed.

And right beside him—Sophia, half-knelt from the blast, tried to stand.

“You—”

Allen didn’t even glance.

‘Telekinesis Blast.’

She screamed mid-sentence as an invisible force slammed into her torso, launching her into the air like a ragdoll.

And then—CHOMP!

The middle head of Azdraeth lunged, jaws snapping. One limb vanished.

The savage head followed with a crunch of ribs.

And the derpy head?

“Wait wait wait! I want the leg—dibs on the leeeeg!”

Sophia’s screams cut off in a wet, squelching final crunch.

Silence for a half-second.

Then chaos resumed.

Elio moved first.

“DIVINE LUNGE!”

A flash of white. His high-tier paladin armor shimmered like molten gold as he blurred forward, blade glowing with holy vengeance. Sparks exploded off the tip of his spear as it arced toward Allen’s chest.

-Clang!

Allen blocked it.

One hand.

Not the sword. Not a shield. Just his damn new gauntlet.

Elio’s face contorted. “Impossible!”

Allen tilted his head, smirking. “You really think a golden glow’s gonna save you?”

He stepped in, rotating his wrist—and Elio was thrown back like a kite, tumbling across the cracked terrain, armor scraping sparks along the stone.

But then Red_King came in behind him, sword already mid-swing.

“Eat this, you smug bastard—!!”

Allen dodged sideways—barely—and the sword ripped a crater into the ground behind him.

Red_King didn’t pause. He spun, feinted, then brought the blade down again in a diagonal arc.

Steel clashed steel.

Allen caught the edge of the blade on his own and grinned. His blade flared with Demonic Orbs, black flames spinning down the edge.

“You hit harder than before,” he said. “I like that.”

Red_King growled. “I’ll like it more when your head’s rolling.”

They traded five more blows in under a second.

Blades flashed.

Air cracked.

And then—BOOM!

Allen parried with absurd precision, twisted behind Red_King, and kicked him in the spine. A burst of shadow flung him ten meters back into a broken pillar.

‘Void Mirage.’

He left a blur behind—an illusion. A fake Allen shimmered in place just long enough for Arcana to aim a lightning spear.

-BOOM!

The illusion exploded.

“SHIT!” Arcana cursed, forced to roll away as residual energy blasted outward.

Allen’s real body appeared above him, already channeling Demonic Lances. “Try harder.”

Fifty black lances fell like meteors.

Arcana raised his shield, cloaking himself in holy aura. He blocked the first—barely. The second tore through his left pauldron, piercing into his side. The rest slammed into the ground near his feet, and the explosion cracked the stone beneath him, sending him staggering as the rest rained down in a storm of cursed fire and shadow.

Then came Father^Alex.

He’d been standing in the back, trembling—but no longer hesitating.

His robes glowed, divine circles spinning under his feet.

“Saint’s Garden!”

A massive dome of golden light bloomed across the field. All allies within were healed rapidly, status cleansed. Damage taken was reduced.

Allen blinked. “Finally…”

He smiled.

“You brought out your serious toy.”

He raised his palm.

“Soul Siphon.”

A tendril of writhing darkness shot from his hand and punched through the barrier—straight into the dome—draining HP from every player caught in it.

Father^Alex gasped.

“What?! That’s—”

“You heal?” Allen laughed. “Thanks. I was feeling a little sore.”

Elio, now recovered, dashed in again, this time swinging with a combo of Blade of Virtue and Judgment Pulse.

Allen activated his Demonic Form.

[Demonic Form activated!]

[All status +50%]

[Time remaining: 4:59]

His entire body shifted.

Veins glowed crimson under shadowy armor. Horns erupted from his temples, curling back. His hands became claws. His entire form pulsed like a storm given shape.

The air curled. Warped. Screamed.

He moved too fast.

Parried Elio’s strike with a flick. Landed a palm on his chest.

‘Stone Curse.’

A pulse of grey shot outward—several frontliners froze mid-swing, calcifying in place.

Elio resisted, just barely.

Allen twisted again and caught his face with a brutal knee strike that cracked his helmet and launched him upward.

Red_King returned—this time activating Crimson Phalanx to increase resistance—but Allen summoned Hellfire Rain above him.

The sky lit up.

Meteors of cursed fire rained down, smashing around the battlefield, tearing up terrain, igniting gear. Even with buffs, the AoE damage was absurd.

Arcana knelt behind a magic shield, panting. His HP dropped to 40%.

Alex gasped, “I can’t… heal that fast…”

Allen landed between them again.

“Tick tock.”

He raised a finger.

“Abyssal Descent.”

The sky turned black.

The clouds split open.

A phantom throne appeared above him in the sky—spiked, massive, glowing with sigils.

It fell.

Slamming into the ground behind Allen like a meteor.

The shockwave tore open the entire area. Corpses—player and monster—were flung like trash. Walls cracked. Barriers shattered. The countdown began flashing in blood-red text.

[Countdown: 4:22]

The players regrouped, limping, bleeding, many on their last revive.

Alex whispered, “We… we can’t beat him.”

Elio clenched his cracked fist. “We have to. If we don’t—this was all for nothing.”

Red_King spat blood. “Then we go down swinging.”

Allen stared at them, eyes glowing brighter.

“You’re all good,” he said softly.

“Really good.”

He raised his sword, black flames spiraling around it.

“But this throne… isn’t meant for mortals.”

He charged.

And the final round began.