Villain MMORPG: Almighty Devil Emperor and His Seven Demonic Wives

Chapter 1693: The Holiest of Them All

Villain Ch 1693. The Holiest of Them All

A ripple of black cracked the sanctified ring like a wine stain spilled across white cloth. Light stuttered. The runes flickered, their glow pulsing as if choking. The bride—barely breathing now—tensed.

Then it came.

Laughter.

Low. Cruel. Laced with amusement. It echoed like something far away, yet close enough to feel on everyone’s skin. It wasn’t loud. But it didn’t need to be.

It slithered under the ritual music. Mocking. Confident. Ancient.

“Ahhh,” the voice drawled, silk over blades. “There it is. The stench of hypocrisy baked in gold. You pretend so hard to be holy… and yet your sins scream louder than any demon.”

The groom snapped toward the darkness. His entire body locked up like a glitching machine. “You…”

The laughter sharpened. “Yes. Me.”

The crack widened. From it stepped a figure—draped in a majestic robe dyed black by ash and blood.

And then… wings.

Not angelic.

Demonic. Vast and shadow-woven, unfurling slowly behind him like smoke given form.

Allen’s breath caught.

He knew that face.

Him.

The Devil Emperor.

“Look at this,” the voice cooed. “The one who parades as purity… cursing souls into metal tombs in the name of love and obedience. All while dressing it up as salvation. Pathetic.”

The groom didn’t even look at the bride now. His eyes were locked on the figure. “You… I know you. You’re the evil they warned me about. The false king. The corrupter. Devil Emperor.”

“Oh?” the Devil Emperor tilted his head like a cat amused by a dying bird. “You know me? That’s flattering. I usually have to blow up a cathedral before people remember my name.”

Without warning, a blast of force cracked the groom off his feet—threw him like a doll across the chamber. He hit a marble pillar with a sickening crunch, metal joints sparking, white armor dented and flaking.

And still, he staggered to stand.

The Devil Emperor didn’t even flinch. He stepped forward, slow and deliberate, until he stood beside the bleeding bride, who looked up in dazed confusion. He crouched, tilted his head at her. Then looked to the altar.

“To call something so rare and pure… yours,” he murmured. “Then bend it. Break it. Rewrite it in your image. Tell me—what exactly is the difference between you and me?”

The groom’s voice snapped back, voice hoarse but firm. “I am holy. Reborn in divine fire. A reincarnation of the first seraph. Everything I’ve done was in the name of peace. For her.”

“She didn’t ask for it,” the Devil Emperor said flatly.

“She was made for me!”

“Was she?” The Emperor’s smile twisted. “Because all I heard was ’she doesn’t want it.’” He gestured lazily. “Sounds more like rejection than prophecy.”

“I cleansed this place! I forged this sanctuary to protect us from your kind!”

“By cursing people into silence,” the Emperor said, tapping a finger against his temple. “By welding minds into obedience. Oh yes, you protected her… from herself.”

“She needed purpose!”

“She already had one,” he said, voice calm now. “You just couldn’t accept it wasn’t you.”

The groom’s eyes narrowed. “You… don’t understand. You demons take. You corrupt. You devour.”

“Oh, absolutely,” the Devil Emperor admitted, standing again. “I’m all appetite. Sin in boots.” He opened his arms like a ringmaster welcoming the audience to hell. “But you’re not better. You’re worse. Because you put all your crimes in a book and called it holy.”

He took a step forward.

“You say you’re holy because you have wings?”

White light flared behind the groom—his own wings unfurling. Vast. Lined with iron feathers. Each one etched with glyphs that hummed like a choir.

The Devil Emperor snorted. Then, with a shrug, he opened his wings wider. “Then I must be the holiest of them all.”

His wings stretched wider—too wide. Reality bent slightly at the edges. The room dimmed unnaturally.

The groom braced. “You’re not worthy. You tempt and twist and seduce the world into chaos.”

The Emperor’s grin returned. “Oh please. You chained your bride to a rock and called it love. You wrote her silence into your script and dared to label it peace.”

The groom’s hand trembled. “She is mine. This cathedral—my proof. It is a fortress against your plague!”

“A fortress?” The Devil Emperor scoffed. “Built from corpses and holy delusions. You fight crime using crime. Lovely logic. Do you hand out coupons for it?”

“You don’t understand,” the groom hissed.

“No,” the Devil Emperor said, eyes darkening. “I do. That’s what makes this fun.”

The groom lunged.

All sanctity shattered. His spear blazed with white flame as he roared, wings propelling him forward like a divine missile.

The Devil Emperor didn’t move.

Until the last second.

Then he caught the spear with one hand—grip wrapped in dark fire—and twisted.

The weapon shattered like sugar glass.

The groom reeled, staggered, tried to conjure another—but the Emperor’s voice rose, echoing with ancient curse-language that warped the air.

“Oh no, no, no,” he purred. “Since you love this place so much… why not stay here? Forever?”

The sigils on the floor twisted.

Gold bled into black.

Holy code scrambled, devoured by darker script.

The groom screamed as chains of light wrapped around him—but then snapped into iron vines. They burrowed into his limbs. Into his wings. He fell to his knees, clawing at the vines as the floor below him opened like a mechanical maw.

The altar trembled.

“You wanted eternity,” the Emperor said, walking forward like a god through a cathedral on fire. “So here. Be eternal. Be useful. Be the core of this nightmare you built.”

“No—!”

The groom’s cry warped, voice distorting as the chains tore deeper. Holy glyphs branded his face—then burned away, replaced by jagged, demonic ones. His halo flickered… then exploded into shards.

And then—

The groom sank.

Not into a pit.

Into the altar.

The runes carved into it glowed—absorbing him.

His scream faded into static.

And then silence.

Dead silence.