NOVGO.NET Chapter 1690: A Visual I Didn’t Need
Chapter 1690: A Visual I Didn’t Need
Villain Ch 1690. A Visual I Didn’t Need
The air warped—rippled like light filtering through holy water—but it wasn’t water. It was power. Controlled. Precise. Too clean.
From the far end of the sanctum, a figure stepped through a gilded arch. His robes were ceremonial—immaculate and flowing, the shade of untouched parchment. Embroidered with delicate threads of gold, too perfectly symmetrical. His feet made no sound on the marble floor. Like he wasn’t touching it at all.
For a split second, Allen thought human. Just another high-ranking priest or angelic NPC.
Then he caught the whir.
A faint grind of hidden gears.
The subtle steam hiss beneath the cloth.
And those wings—white, feathered, wide. Too wide. But beneath the feathers were rods. Joints. Pistons.
Mechanical.
He wasn’t a man.
Or he wasn’t anymore.
Allen’s gaze dropped for a second. The “skin” was matte silver at the neckline. Synthetic. He was plated, not born. A hybrid.
That explained the wrong stillness. The too-steady eyes. The gentle smile etched onto a jaw that couldn’t fully emote.
“Uh…” Jane blinked slowly. “Do you guys think what I’m thinking?”
The girls exchanged glances.
“Yeah,” Larissa said, arms folded under her chest, watching the man glide across the platform. “If he gets married… how he gonna—” She made a vague thrusting gesture with her hand. “—you know, the bride.”
Shea deadpan. “Maybe that thing down there is still functional. Like, normal.”
Zoe tilted her head. “Or he upgraded it. Like… iron tentacle. Or worse. Iron dragon head.”
Vivian gagged softly. “That’s a visual I didn’t need,” she muttered.
Bella raised her hand, solemn as a prayer. “Guess I understand why the bride’s been crying. I mean, yeah. I’d run too.”
Allen hissed low. “Shhh. Just listen.”
The man stood at the center of the sanctum now. Light gathered behind him like a spotlight—but unnatural. Engineered. A halo powered by a turbine hum.
His hands were clasped in front of him.
“Where are you?” he murmured, almost too soft to hear. “Don’t hide from me. You were chosen. You are perfect.”
Footsteps clanked in from a side corridor. One of the mechanical guards—sleek, skeletal, robes wrapped tight around its joints—rushed forward and dropped to one knee.
“My Lord. We have not located the bride.”
The man’s mechanical brows pinched. A soft buzz of servo motors tightening.
“Not yet?” he echoed, and even his voice was melodic in a way that felt wrong. Too even. Not a tremble of emotion.
“N-No, my Lord. We are sweeping the lower sanctum and secondary cathedra.”
He looked at the guard.
Then raised his hand.
The gesture was calm. Almost kind.
“Then find her. The ceremony has been delayed long enough. The sigils are primed. Her body is suitable. Her soul—untainted. She will harmonize. Perfectly.”
The guard jolted up, nearly scrambling in backward steps. “Yes, my Lord. Right away.”
It vanished into the corridor.
The man turned back toward the altar, speaking to no one. Or maybe just to himself.
“Why are you running from me?” His voice didn’t waver. It was wistful. As if he thought this was love. “I chose you. I crafted this place for you. I purified the bloodline. You will not die. You will become as I am. Eternal. Righteous.”
A pause.
“I will make you the same. Only you are worthy to stand beside me.”
Allen stood frozen. His hand clenched slightly around his sword hilt.
Not a boss fight yet, his system didn’t say.
But he knew it was coming.
The man’s aura wasn’t divine. It was something built to mimic divinity. Cold and beautiful and terrible.
And beneath it all—desperation. A twisted ache for something lost. Or never understood to begin with.
Zoe whispered, “He sounds… gentle.”
“He’s not,” Allen replied, voice low. “He’s the reason she ran.”
Jane crossed her arms. “I’ve seen enough obsessive villain types in the novels. This one’s textbook.”
“And textbook villains make the most memorable loot,” Vivian whispered.
But Allen wasn’t smiling.
Because somewhere between the man’s words, he caught the real warning.
“I will make you the same.”
Not love. Not union. Just replication. Obedience. Manufacturing a bride like he manufactured himself.
He glanced around at the team.
They were ready.
And if this guy wanted to force a ceremony?
He was gonna get a reception.
The alarm blared. A high-pitched, metallic screech, like cathedral bells being strangled by sirens. Red-white light flooded the sanctum, rotating in strange angular patterns across the floor. Sacred runes buzzed to life. The columns shook.
Allen raised his blade instantly. The rest of the party spread out.
“Showtime,” Larissa murmured, lips curling in anticipation.
Vivian rolled her shoulders. “Finally.”
But then—
The man turned.
His expression… changed.
From solemn priest to something else entirely.
He smiled.
Not kind. Not victorious. But possessive.
“There you are,” he whispered. “Found you.”
He wasn’t looking at them.
He turned his back. And ran.
Straight past Allen—just through them, like they didn’t matter at all.
“What the hell?” Zoe muttered, already mid-lunge.
Too slow.
He’d already crossed the marble dais. His mechanical wings extended—not to fly, but to amplify his sprint. The floor rippled beneath his steps as holy circuits activated under him.
“Shit—” Allen growled. “MOVE—!”
But the man didn’t stop to engage.
Didn’t even look at them.
He was heading for the exit at full speed. A corridor of gilded gates cracked open ahead like the dungeon itself wanted him gone.
[System Update]
[Quest Progress – The Bride and the Bound Saint: 75%]
[Target Located. Priority Override Activated.]
[ Final Sanctum Sequence Engaged.]
“She’s near,” Jane whispered, wide-eyed. “He found the Saint.”
Bella hissed, “He’s going to force the wedding—!”
Allen’s voice cut clean through the sirens. “We need to follow him. Let’s go!”
There was no debate. No regroup. Just the rush of boots against marble and the sound of weapons being drawn.
He sprinted first—blade still dripping faint traces of blood, coat billowing behind him as the corrupted chapel blurred around them.