Villain MMORPG: Almighty Devil Emperor and His Seven Demonic Wives - Chapter 1760: We Stalk You Harder Than Your Enemies Do

Chapter 1760: We Stalk You Harder Than Your Enemies Do

Villain Ch 1760. We Stalk You Harder Than Your Enemies Do

Allen showed up on the Crypts gates,

Boots scuffing against old stone carved with unreadable warnings. The air was cooler here—always was. The moment his foot hit the threshold, the temperature dropped like someone exhaled ice across his neck.

Something was wrong.

Not… wrong.

Different.

No movements.

Too quiet.

The kind of quiet that wasn’t lazy or peaceful. The kind that held its breath.

Allen blinked once, adjusted his stance.

Then—

The shadows surged.

He didn’t flinch. Just shifted his weight slightly left.

A sharp crack broke the stillness—

Blood tendrils.

They came from the right side of the wall. Fast. Wet. Hissing. Like blades made of living muscle. They slashed toward him in a three-pronged arc designed to box him in. Another tendril came low, sweeping toward his legs.

Allen moved like water.

One fluid pivot and lean back—barely enough—

The tendrils missed by inches, slicing through the stone beside him.

But that wasn’t all.

From above—

A flicker of flame and then whoosh—

Three fireballs aimed at his midsection.

His coat flared as he ducked low and slid across the polished bones of the floor. Sparks rolled off his heel. He didn’t even look up.

One dagger in hand.

He twisted his wrist once—sharp, clean—and launched the blade toward the left archway.

A surprised squeak sounded.

Then a shadow shimmered—and Alice appeared on her floating broom, arms crossed, the blade now embedded in the tip of her hat.

“Rude,” she said.

But Allen wasn’t done.

The floor cracked beneath him—no, not cracked—coiled.

Something curled.

-Whip!

It came from behind, aiming for his neck.

He let it graze his collar just enough to bait it. Then stepped back—one, two, precise like heartbeat—and brought his heel down.

Right on the leather.

The whip jolted, tugging hard.

And then she came flying.

Vivian.

Her voice let out a surprised yelp—half flirt, half challenge—as Allen used the whip’s tension to pivot her forward. She spun toward him with dangerous momentum—long legs, demon heels, tail flicking—and he caught her midair. One arm locked around her waist, the other hand grabbing her thigh with zero shame.

She slammed into his chest with a soft gasp.

A perfect, body-on-body impact.

She smelled like vanilla and hunger. Her skin was warm from casting.

His grip stayed tight.

“What is this,” Allen murmured, voice deep and unreadable.

Vivian blinked up at him, eyes glowing red with playful offense.

“You’re late,” she pouted, voice sulky and sweet like poisoned candy. “You said twenty minutes. It’s been twenty-three.”

She curled her arms around his neck, nuzzling close in mock irritation, but Allen could feel the subtle spike of her demonic aura—like she wanted him to punish her for that extra three minutes.

“You’re counting?” he asked, arching a brow, voice still quiet.

“Of course,” she whispered. “It’s not like I missed you or anything… I just happen to keep a schedule.”

Behind them, Alice landed with a small hop from her broom. Her heels clicked against the marble bone-tiled floor. She tugged her hat forward and glared with mock betrayal.

“And,” she said loudly, “we know you were just out there dueling Elio. Again. Honestly. That boy has a death wish. Or a crush.”

Allen didn’t let go of Vivian. If anything, his grip around her hips grew tighter. She let out a faint moan. Not pain—pleasure. He leaned just slightly closer, brushing his mouth near her ear, the barest ghost of contact.

“You knew?” he asked.

“Of course,” Alice huffed. “You think we don’t have alerts on your PvP logs? We stalk you harder than your enemies do.”

“Correction,” Vivian added, tilting her head so her lips almost brushed his throat. “We stalk you better.”

Before Allen could respond, the scent of blood intensified.

Not hostile.

Familiar.

Velvet. Metallic. Cold.

Larissa.

The air thickened before she even appeared. And then she stepped out from the nearest wall like she’d been part of it.

Her gaze swept over Allen, up and down, taking in the full form.

And she wrinkled her nose.

“That again?” she said. “Seriously?”

Allen finally released Vivian, letting her slink off his body with a low, spoiled sigh. He turned to face Larissa fully.

“What’s wrong with this form?” he asked.

“You look like a generic cursed bounty hunter,” she replied. “I want my Devil Emperor. The one with the cloak of ash and eyes like damnation.”

Alice grinned. “I second that. The edge lord version has a certain… flair.”

Vivian pouted again and added, “I like both. But if you really want us to forgive you for being late… maybe you should switch into something a little more… sinful.”

Allen didn’t smile.

But he did tilt his head slightly.

A pulse of dark light shivered under his skin. Shadows rippled at his feet. And for a heartbeat, everything dimmed. The torches flickered. The walls trembled.

[Avatar Shift: Devil Emperor]

[System Syncing… Loading Form]

[True Title Active: Monarch of Midnight]

He straightened. Taller. Darker. Unmistakably regal.

Vivian exhaled, body arching like she’d just been hit with a wave of need. “There’s my king…”

Alice bit her lower lip and muttered, “Okay, that’s hot.”

Larissa smirked, but her fangs peeked out. “Now that’s more like it.”

Allen looked at them all—his girls. His chaos. His power.

The Crypts weren’t just his base.

They were his court.

The heat of the duel still burned in his limbs, but the moment shifted—now laced with something older.

Darker.

More intimate.

Vivian stepped forward, fingers brushing along his collar, claws teasing his neck. “We missed you.”

Alice snapped her fingers. “Then come. Sit. Report. Flirt. Pretend we’re not all ready to jump you.”

Larissa leaned beside the wall, arms crossed. “But first—tell us. Did you kill Elio this time?”

Allen’s eyes glinted.

“No,” he said. “Just humiliated him.”

Vivian purred, “That’s so much sexier.”

And all at once, the tension cracked—like a dam breaking into mischief and heat.

He hadn’t been gone that long.

But the Crypts remembered.

And so did his harem.

And Allen?

Allen was home.