Villain MMORPG: Almighty Devil Emperor and His Seven Demonic Wives - Chapter 1757: Unimpressed
Chapter 1757: Unimpressed
Villain Ch 1757. Unimpressed
Elio expected a quick answer. Something smug. A nod. A lazy shrug. Maybe even a sarcastic “Sure, champ.”
But Allen didn’t say a word.
He just stared at Elio, sipping his drink like it was some fine vintage instead of budget desert whiskey.
The silence dragged.
Uncomfortable.
Which, of course, Elio couldn’t stand.
He leaned forward, elbows on the polished glass table, and gave a dramatic sigh. “Guess you don’t like the idea. Well, that’s fine. I’ll just call you My H—”
“Okay, fine,” Allen cut in, sharp as a dagger. “One duel. After this. You don’t need to call me that anymore. Don’t give me another trauma, I’ve had enough last night.”
Red_King nearly spit his drink. “Oh? The Goldborne young master had trauma? Don’t tell me it was because you were hanging out with too many billionaire heiresses?”
It was meant as a joke. Everyone chuckled.
Because yeah… that did sound like a very Allen problem.
But Allen just sighed and rolled his neck. “No. My obsessed ex was waiting in front of my mansion all night.”
The laughter died.
Red_King blinked. “Wait. You mean—”
“Sophia,” Allen said, flatly. “She was just… there. Waiting. Creeping out. So I had to crash at my girlfriend’s place.”
The silence went deep.
Even the ambient tavern music felt too loud.
Yuna made a small sound like a strangled cough. “…Damn.”
Red_King shook his head slowly.
Allen didn’t answer. He just took another sip.
Alex leaned forward, wide-eyed. “Wait wait wait—that Sophia? Like, the crazy one who cursed Elio’s guild and made a scene at the last conference?”
“The one and only,” Allen muttered.
“That explains it…” Elio muttered. “Liam and Darren requested to rejoin my guild this morning. Both of them. Full apology paragraph. It felt suspicious.”
Red_King raised an eyebrow. “They got their freedom. At last.”
“Exactly. I thought they were either drunk or desperate,” Elio said, frowning. “Also explains why she called me at 7 A.M.”
Alex looked confused. “She called you? For what?”
“No idea,” Elio replied. “Didn’t pick it up. She tried like… three more times. New numbers. I didn’t pick those up either.”
“Smart,” Red_King nodded. “Again, both of you dodged a bullet.”
“Not yet,” Elio said, draining his drink and standing up. He looked directly at Allen, eyes sharp. “But maybe I’ll dodge it better if I can spar with someone who gives me nightmares.”
Allen groaned. “At least let me finish my drink first.”
He did. Downed the last of it with a long exhale.
And then they were moving.
Gorroc City was beautiful at night.
In a sand-swept, slightly-trying-to-kill-you way.
The desert sun hung mercilessly overhead, bleaching the sky to a hard, cloudless white. Heat shimmered off the sandstone walls, warping the air like a mirage. The city buzzed faintly in the background—vendors shouting from under awnings, wind chimes rattling on balconies, the occasional clang of a forge somewhere deeper in the district. Gorroc was alive, but this part? This stretch between the outer alleys and the practice zone? It was quiet.
Elio picked a wide training ground a few blocks from the lounge. Technically open to public PvP, but nobody sane was out sparring in this kind of heat unless they really wanted to lose hydration and HP.
The practice ring was a circle of cracked reddish stone, the edges outlined in sun-faded mana lines. A few scorch marks still lingered from past fire spells. The air clung dry and heavy, sweat already beading under armor. Their boots crunched faintly on the sand-dusted ground as they took position, shadows small and sharp beneath their feet.
Perfect.
Hot.
And definitely not a place for amateurs.
They stood across from each other.
Just them.
Red_King, Alex, Yuna, and Rei leaned on the fence outside the circle. Spectators. Commentators. Casual witnesses to either history or disaster.
Probably both.
Elio drew his sword. The steel glimmered faintly with light runes. Holy-affinity. His kite shield came next—massive, ornate, silver-edged and battle-scuffed.
He stood tall. Centered.
“You ready?” he asked.
Allen didn’t say anything. He just reached behind his back and unsheathed both blades in a single smooth motion. The sound of steel scraping free echoed like a whisper between their boots.
His stance was lazy. Unimpressed. No guard.
Typical.
Then the duel notification appeared.
[Player Mac has invited you to a Duel. Do you agree?]
[Yes / No]
Allen tapped [Yes].
And Elio braced.
Duel Start.
The desert sun bore down like a punishment. Their boots scuffed against the cracked red sandstone as they squared off, shadows short and sharp beneath them.
A dry gust of wind kicked dust between them.
Elio raised his shield, adjusted the grip on his sword, and narrowed his eyes. Allen… didn’t raise his daggers.
Not right away.
He just watched.
Still.
Focused.
Then—movement.
Allen stepped forward. Not back. Not sideways. Around. Like wind curling around stone.
His dagger flicked out—not at the shield, not at the chestplate, but lower. It tapped the seam between Elio’s greaves and thighplate.
[HP -9%]
Elio jolted, staggered back a step, shield flaring with a golden ripple.
That didn’t make sense. His gear was reinforced. Fully enchanted. No way a flick should’ve dented his HP bar like that.
“Damn,” Elio muttered.
Allen didn’t answer. Just turned slightly. Like circling a puzzle.
This time Elio didn’t wait. He pushed forward, pressure high, steps calculated. A few test slashes—clean, aimed at center mass. Then a hard horizontal bash to force Allen off balance.
Allen didn’t meet the blow.
He slipped under it—too fast—and slammed a boot up into Elio’s chest.
[HP -14%]
[Status: Briefly Staggered]
Elio cursed, sliding back half a meter, dust kicking up under his boots. “The hell was that?”
Allen just tilted his head. Calm. Patient. Like he wasn’t in a duel—like he was reading Elio.
It pissed him off.
Elio gritted his teeth and activated a three-move combo—Holy Slash into Shield Bash into a timed Mana Burst detonation meant to stun.
Allen shattered the rhythm instantly.
