Villain MMORPG: Almighty Devil Emperor and His Seven Demonic Wives - Chapter 1940: You Can’t Hide
Chapter 1940: You Can’t Hide
Villain Ch 1940. You Can’t Hide
Alex stammered, voice cracking. “A-A-Allen… she’s smiling…”
“I know.” Allen’s voice was razor-sharp and dry as bone. He unsheathed his daggers with a whisper of metal, stepping forward.
Time to kill.
The canvas rippled like disturbed water. No glitch. No fade. She stepped out.
Mariella von Reithmoor—red veil still hanging over her twisted face, mouth dangling loose with black threads swaying like leeches. Her arms jerked unnaturally, elbows bending the wrong way as her high-collared dress dragged along the floor like wet silk.
Alex screamed.
Red_King shouted, “SHE’S OUT SHE’S OUT SHE’S OUT—”
Allen lunged.
His blades sang through the air. Mariella shrieked—shrill, hungry, wrong. The tips of his daggers bit into her midsection, glowing briefly with the lingering effect of that holy water buff they’d applied back at the church. She stumbled back, smoke hissing from the wounds, but didn’t fall. Her head twitched once. Twice. Then her voice dropped an octave, thick and oily.
“The food…” she rasped. “I must prepare the food…”
Blood or something like it, dribbled from the thread holes in her mouth as she screamed again, high and sharp like glass shattering inside their skulls.
“The guests are almost here!”
She shrieked again then vanished.
“Where the hell did she—” Red_King didn’t finish.
Because the footsteps started.
Click
Click
Click
Slow. Numerous. Crisp shoes against aged wood.
They came from the hall behind.
Dozens of them.
Shadows stretched under the door.
Then it opened.
Not creaked. Opened. Smooth. Welcoming. Like the house itself invited this.
And out poured—
“Servants,” Alex whimpered, backing up until his heel hit a chair.
Dozens. Maybe more. Some still in charred butler suits. Some in stained kitchen uniforms. Some—headless. All see-through. All smiling.
Their eyes were milky or gouged. Their bodies trailed fog. They didn’t walk—they glided. One cook still held a bloody cleaver, twitching with a phantom hunger. A maid dragged a tray of steaming hearts.
Red_King’s voice cracked. “Are you fucking serious?!”
Mastercraft backed toward the fireplace. “We are so dead.”
Allen’s gaze flicked once toward the door.
Then toward Mariella.
She was right in front of him.
She hadn’t run.
She had teleported.
“You,” she said, pointing a needle-thin finger straight at Allen’s chest. “You will be the first course. The appetizer. A perfect start.”
He slashed.
But she was gone again.
Not time to chase.
Because the horde charged.
“CATCH THE FOOD,” the ghosts shrieked in unison. Their voices layered and too loud for real throats.
“CATCH THE FOOD. CATCH THE FOOD. THE GUESTS MUSTN’T STARVE!”
Red_King roared, leaping forward with his sword already ignited. “I FUCKING HATE MANOR QUESTS!”
He cleaved straight through the first wave—three ghost maids dissolved into fog with a howl. The second wave clashed into him, dragging sharp knitting needles and meat hooks.
Mastercraft activated a Forge Pulse, flooding the room with a wave of kinetic force. Chairs exploded. Tables flipped. A chandelier dropped and crushed two ghosts with a loud clang. Then another butler flew through the wall and snapped back up like a marionette with cut strings.
“Why is everything FLOATING?!” Mastercraft shouted.
Alex was chanting holy buffs and shaking at the same time. “P-Protection. Protection. Protection—OH GOD SHE’S CRAWLING ON THE CEILING!”
He pointed up.
Mariella was upside down on the ceiling.
Her limbs cracked as she turned her head full around to look at Allen again.
“You can’t hide,” she whispered, voice leaking from every candle flame.
Allen didn’t blink.
He stepped to the side calmly as two ghost maids lunged. His daggers danced—left hand slashing through ghost gut, right hand spinning through phantom neck.
No blood.
Just smoke.
And that scent—
Like salted formaldehyde and stale soup.
He ducked under a cleaver, then pivoted, slicing through the wrist of a tall chef ghost who let out a rattling cough like a tea kettle before popping into mist.
Allen’s voice was low. “They’re too weak.”
“No, we’re just buffed! It’s temporary!” Alex yelled, frantically chucking another vial of blessed oil on Mastercraft.
Mastercraft, now on fire, screamed, “FUCK THIS ELEGANT HAUNTED BULLSHIT.”
The walls pulsed.
Paintings wept.
Red wine poured from the ceiling like blood from burst veins.
“We’re in a script!” Red_King shouted. “THIS IS A FUCKING CURSED RITUAL!”
“No,” Allen growled. “This is bait.”
He kicked off a chair and landed near the far hallway, blades slashing through three more butlers. They turned to ash.
Mariella appeared beside him again. “You won’t ruin my feast…”
He cut into her chest.
This time—real resistance.
Like flesh.
She screeched and evaporated, but her scream split the torches—three of them exploded in bursts of black fire.
“GUYS!” Alex screamed. “She’s adapting! She’s manifesting more!”
Allen’s lips barely moved. “Good.”
Red_King threw a silver fork into a ghost’s eye. “GOOD?!”
Allen’s eyes never left the far hallway. “I want her to be real. Then she can die for real.”
The air was bending.
Chairs hovering.
One maid spun in the air, twitching like a clock hand, as her mouth opened too wide and screamed a lullaby backward.
Mastercraft snapped, “WE NEED TO MOVE BEFORE THIS BECOMES A WIPED RUN!”
Allen tilted his head. “Then go.”
“You’re staying?” Alex squeaked.
He didn’t answer.
Mariella appeared again, this time behind Alex.
Allen was already moving.
One dagger slammed into Mariella’s temple just as her hands reached for Alex’s shoulders.
She vanished mid-scream.
Alex fell to the ground, gasping.
“Th-thank you—”
“Get up.”
“But—”
Allen hauled him up one-handed. “The next one won’t miss.”
Alex’s breathing was ragged. His hands trembled as he stared back down the hallway. “S-something touched me. I swear to God—!”
“I’m pretty sure God doesn’t cover this place,” Mastercraft muttered, swinging his hammer.
Red_King spun around, blades twitching. “Form up. We’re not getting picked off one by one like some noob-ass stream bait.”
Combat still broke out
Red slashed through three in a single breath. Mastercraft’s hammer ignited with flame as he smashed skulls into floorboards. Allen didn’t move like the rest—he vanished into shadow, sliding past blades, grabbing throats, snapping necks. Not one scratch touched him.
Alex screamed prayers mid-battle and cast bursts of radiant light, burning specters to dust.
