Villain MMORPG: Almighty Devil Emperor and His Seven Demonic Wives

Chapter 1789: A Fool

Villain Ch 1789. A Fool

They were loud.

Messy.

Unpredictable.

And somehow perfect.

Allen looked back at the mirror.

The reflection tilted his head—just like he did when he was thinking of DPS rotations.

Same eyes.

Same face.

But… not the same man.

That Allen?

He didn’t know laughter.

Didn’t know what it meant to have seven different people cheering for him, teasing him, or staying beside him when he was at his worst.

He didn’t know what it felt like to be seen in both his strongest and weakest moments—when he was on fire, when he was moody, when his dark side took over, when he was cracked open and raw—and not be abandoned for it.

He didn’t know what it was like to have a team who chose to watch his back instead of stabbing it.

Didn’t know what it was like to be surrounded by people who didn’t resent him for standing in the spotlight, but pushed him into it because they believed he belonged there.

He reached out.

Cold.

Too real.

“…I’m not just the guy who built this team,” he whispered.

“They built me too.”

The mirror didn’t reply.

Didn’t need to.

The reflection slowly faded—like it accepted the answer.

Allen closed his eyes.

Breathed in deep.

He smelled frost. Old stone.

Then he heard them.

Distant, but clear.

Their voices—muffled through the walls.

Laughing. Arguing. Teasing.

Alive.

He turned around—

And walked toward them.

Not as the Devil Emperor.

Not as the strongest solo player.

But as Allen.

The idiot who once thought going alone was strength—

And now knew that choosing them again and again…

Was stronger.

Every. Damn. Time.

Allen stepped off the last rune, and the moment his boots left the glowing sigil, the world shifted. Not with violence—but with finality.

The mirror maze melted away behind him, consumed in soft black mist like a curtain closing on one final act.

And ahead…

A vast stone chamber unfurled.

The air was thick. Not musty. Not warm. But heavy—like a heartbeat held too long in your chest.

Magic hung like static on his tongue. The floor glowed with faded runes, circling an ancient throne in the distance. Not his. This one was different—warped. Cracked. And sitting slumped against the wall beside it—

A massive figure. Five meters tall. Dressed in broken armor woven with glyphs that pulsed faintly like dying embers.

Warden Caelreth, Oathbroken (Boss)

The name echoed through Allen’s system with a low chime.

[Final Mission Triggered: “The Black Throne”]

[Objective: Kill Warden Caelreth.]

And as if fate wanted to confirm it, the chamber flared with soft green light—one final signal that this was the end of the line.

“Allen!” Jane’s voice cracked behind him.

He turned.

His girls were already there—lined up in full formation.

Vivian twirling her whip.

Zoe’s kraken limbs already dripping.

Larissa licking blood off her fingers from some prior skirmish.

Bella crackling with elemental energy.

Alice sharpening her glare.

Shea hovering above the ground with her harp strings humming.

And Jane—her barrier already half-spun into form.

Every one of them in position.

They were ready to fight.

But the Warden hadn’t moved. Not yet.

He stood slowly. A low groan of ancient metal echoed like the creak of a dying starship. He didn’t turn toward them.

Not yet.

His voice was low. Dry. Not cruel. Not angry.

Just… tired.

“Why did you come here?” he asked, still facing the throne.

Shea stepped forward. “You mean… why we finished your puzzle? Why we fought through trials?”

“No,” Caelreth murmured. “Why you came here… to this place. Why choose to face the wound rather than forget it?”

Nobody answered.

He finally turned, and Allen felt it.

This wasn’t the corrupted warden from the earlier questlines. This wasn’t the blood-drenched madman who murdered NPCs and screamed from the shadows.

This was… the original.

“I came,” Caelreth said, “to protect them. My homeland. My village.”

He took one step forward. The floor cracked beneath his massive foot.

“I came with my soldiers. With friends. With brothers and sisters who swore they’d die before they’d let the curse take this land.”

His voice trembled now. Not with fear. With memory.

“But what I found… was not something I could protect. The infection spread too fast. Too deep. All of them… already gone.”

His fists clenched. The muscles of his arms were like carved obsidian, but his voice cracked like dry paper.

“All infected.”

Silence fell across the party.

Caelreth stared beyond them—at the past.

“We had to kill them.”

His voice trembled.

“No mercy. No explanation. Just orders. Execute the infected. Purge the rot.”

Jane stepped forward slightly, voice soft. “Oh no. I hate tragic stories…”

Caelreth didn’t flinch. “We did what we had to do.”

Then—

“It wasn’t enough.”

His tone turned bitter.

“My soldiers… They snapped. They had to kill their own families. Their own children. I told them it was necessary. That it was for the greater good.”

He looked down at his own hands like they still held the blood.

“They stopped believing me.”

Another step.

“They turned on me.”

His voice cracked.

“They said I used them. That I wasn’t worthy. That I was never a leader. That I just rode the momentum.”

Alice winced.

Caelreth’s voice turned into a low growl.

“And maybe they were right. Maybe without them… I was nothing.”

His form trembled. The golden light flickered into something darker.

“But… I was hurt too,” he said quietly, finally turning toward them fully.

His body changed.

Right in front of them.

The golden etchings cracked, oozing black fire. His eyes split open with seething madness. The broken armor burst into jagged plates forged from pain and memory.

He grew.

Warped.

Twisted.

Until the corruption swallowed him whole.

[WARNING: Oathbroken Caelreth has entered Corruption Phase]

[All party members: DEF -20% inside his aura radius]

Allen’s system pinged—his own demonic aura flaring in response.

[Your attack and defense have increased by 250%]

[You have decreased enemies’ attack and defense by 50% within a 10-meter radius]

But the numbers didn’t matter.

Not right now.

Because Allen was staring at a man who used to be like him.

A leader.

A protector.

A fool who tried to do it all alone.

And failed.

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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