Villain MMORPG: Almighty Devil Emperor and His Seven Demonic Wives - Chapter 1879: Ungrateful
Chapter 1879: Ungrateful
Villain Ch 1879. Ungrateful
Allen didn’t answer. He could guess.
Not for him.
The grandmother’s words weren’t meant for him.
They were echoes.
Trapped confessions bleeding out of a cursed vessel—maybe the real grandmother’s ghost, maybe just a remnant… but definitely tied to the girl.
The same girl the Faceless Daughter had been mimicking.
The same voice they heard whispering through the fog.
The one who carved her plea into the wood outside.
He ducked another strike—this one too wide, too erratic. The creature’s body was starting to falter. Rage made it fast, but not smart. Her cleaver came down in a frenzied arc. Allen sidestepped and slashed upward—right through the side of her ribs.
The blade dug deep. Smoke sprayed like venom.
She staggered.
“I just—” the Hollow Grandmother rasped, dragging her arm back up with a twitch. “You need to be married! Be rich! Don’t be like your parents!”
Her voice cracked—rage and desperation tangled together like barbed wire.
“You’re supposed to be happy for yourself!”
Then—
“No!”
A second voice.
Not twisted. Not monstrous.
A girl. Young. Real.
“No! I don’t want to be married! Why are you forcing me?! This isn’t fair!”
The voice didn’t come from the boss. It came from outside the house. From the front door. Like a scream lost in time.
Then—running.
Allen turned his head, just briefly. The sound of footsteps—bare, frantic—fleeing through the wet grass beyond the front porch.
Behind him, the Hollow Grandmother let out a screech.
“Silly girl!” she spat. “Ungrateful—selfish—STUPID GIRL!”
The air trembled. The walls cracked. Her body flared in motion, charging at Allen with everything she had left.
But Allen was done.
He stepped forward. One foot grounded. His blade rose clean. His eyes were sharp—flat, cold, and surgical.
He didn’t yell. Didn’t roar.
He just brought the sword down.
A perfect, downward slash—clean through her collarbone, past her ribs, down her hip. The body split in two with a wet sound.
Blood hit the floor like a dropped bucket.
The Hollow Grandmother’s body fell apart mid-lunge. Half of her crumpled forward, the other half twisted into the wall. Smoke hissed out from both halves like steam.
Then—
[Mini Boss Defeated: Hollow Grandmother – Lv. 260]
[You gained 32,000 EXP]
[Item: Rotten Heirloom (Quest Item)]
[Curse Fragment: Binding Thread]
[Warning: This entity could not be bound. Secret Event Flag Triggered.]
[Quest Updated: Track the Granddaughter]
[Discover the Truth of the Landlord’s Pact]
The house went silent.
For a beat too long.
Then the fireplace crackled once—just once. And then died.
Again.
The warmth never comes back twice in this place.
Allen stood still, letting the silence sit. His fingers relaxed against his hilt. Slowly, he exhaled.
Shea was the first to speak. Her voice was low, careful. “That… wasn’t just a boss fight.”
“No,” Allen said. His tone was quieter now. “It was a conversation.”
Vivian walked toward the sliced remains. What little was left was still twitching, bubbling down into shadow. She nudged it with her boot, frowning. “She wasn’t even looking at us.”
“She was looking through us,” Jane corrected. “Locked in a memory.”
“A trauma loop,” Allen muttered.
Jane nodded slowly. “A curse born from guilt.”
Allen looked toward the door. His brows furrowed slightly—not in fear. Not even in concern. It was more like… focus.
The girl’s voice echoed again.
Just a sob now.
Farther away.
Then—
A footstep.
Real.
Wet.
Somewhere beyond the house.
He stepped outside. The others followed in a slow drift, weapons still drawn, but the fog didn’t rise again—yet. The world had gone eerily still.
Outside, the grass was pressed down in a trail. Small feet. Bare. Muddy.
“She went that way,” Zoe said, pointing. “But the sound’s wrong. It doesn’t match the prints.”
“It’s bait,” Bella muttered.
Allen crouched by the prints. The ground was damp, but the tracks were fresh. The mud still clung wet to the edges.
“No,” he said. “Not bait.”
His eyes tracked the movement—he could see where the steps skipped. Stumbled. Then darted forward. Like a child in panic.
“She’s scared.”
Vivian narrowed her eyes, looking toward the dark trees ahead. “Then where’s she going?”
“Let’s find out,” Allen said simply.
The others fell quiet.
“Her words,” he continued, “they weren’t random. They were fragments. Hints.”
“She was supposed to be married off—to pay her father’s debt. Ran away to her grandma. Thought she’d be safe there. She wasn’t. She also wanted to marry her off.”
He straightened.
The fog shifted just slightly. A faint figure darted across their vision—not close, not real—but a ghost’s afterimage.
“She’s still trying to run,” Allen said.
Jane stared into the mist. “You think she’s alive?”
Allen’s jaw clenched. “She’s… preserved, not alive. Somewhere between memory and flesh.”
“She’s a ghost,” Larissa said.
“She’s a girl,” Allen corrected. “Trapped in the wrong kind of story.”
Another sob echoed—softer this time. Not pain. Just tired.
And another footstep.
Then something skittered across the roof behind them—fast. Then gone.
The group turned, blades raised.
Allen didn’t.
“Let’s go,” he said. “We follow her. Step by step.”
The quest pinged again.
[Current Objective: Track the Granddaughter]
[Optional: Listen to the Sobs, follow the Footsteps, avoid the Shadows]
The trail twisted ahead into the darker part of the village—where the streets narrowed into moss-covered stone bridges and half-collapsed buildings.
Sometimes they heard her crying.
Sometimes they heard her running.
And sometimes—
They saw something moving where nothing should.
Allen didn’t blink.
Didn’t speak.
He just kept walking. Blade at his side. Eyes forward.
The path was smeared with half-footprints, sometimes clear in the mud, sometimes vanishing halfway through the stone like she’d phased out of existence mid-step.
The others were quiet behind him. No banter. No sass. Even Bella’s tails didn’t twitch. The fog had changed again—thinner but heavier. Less like smoke, more like breath. Like the world was exhaling around them.
They passed rusted lanterns that hadn’t been lit in years. Windows blinked open with eyes made of shadow. Doors creaked softly when no one touched them. Allen ignored it all. The only thing that mattered now was the sound.
That faint sob.
That fleeting footstep.
That whisper.
Your gift is the motivation for my creation. Give me more motivation!
600 Power Stone = 1 bonus chapters
400 Golden Ticket= 1 bonus chapter
Magic Castle= 4 bonus chapters
Space Craft= 6 bonus chapters
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