Villain Ch 1618. For His Attention

The air shifted again.

Not just the dungeon—the mood. The rhythm of footsteps, the pace of spells, the tempo of every movement started to change like they were moving to music only the girls could hear.

It wasn’t chaos.

It was performance.

They weren’t just clearing enemies.

They were competing.

And Allen? He saw it immediately.

The first clue was how Zoe stopped letting anything get close to him. A trio of crystalline sentinels spawned on the left platform. Allen stepped toward them, casually lifting the blade.

But Zoe was already there.

She moved like water poured into a blade—twisting, sliding, wrapping her tentacles around their legs, crushing them into the glass. One head burst like a melon.

[Critical Hit !]

She wiped blood from her cheek with the back of her wrist and didn’t even look at the corpses.

Instead, she turned to Allen, smirked, and said, “You were reaching for those?”

Allen raised a brow.

Zoe winked. Then vanished again in a blink of ocean light.

And that was the start.

The girls hunted like wolves—but not just for kills.

They hunted for his attention.

Vivian danced between two hulking reavers in the hallway of brass chains. Her whip coiled around one’s neck while her heel struck the other’s knee backward. She bent low, body arched, and flicked her weapon—severing the first one’s head with a flourish.

The second tried to swing— She ducked beneath the blade like it was a lover’s breath and stabbed her dagger through his ribs, whispering something in his ear before yanking it sideways.

Blood sprayed in a perfect arc across the crystal wall.

She turned, eyes glittering, and sauntered toward Allen—hips swaying with every step.

Ran her hand up his chest plate.

“Do you like the show?”

Allen’s eyes glinted. “Keep going.”

She leaned in, kissed the corner of his jaw just beneath the edge of his crown, giggled, and skipped away.

Next was Shea.

She didn’t even speak. She soared overhead and dropped like a comet—her blade-feather wings flashing in a fan of silver as she eviscerated a group of cloaked spellcasters.

Blood painted the invisible bridges.

One tried to crawl away. She didn’t let him.

She pinned him down with her foot on his back, grabbed him by the hair, and drove a blade feather through his spine—slow.

Allen caught her eyes.

She stared at him while she did it.

Not blinking.

Not breathing.

Her eyes locked to his—dark, hungry, deliberate.

Shea didn’t smile.

She bit her lip slow, dragging her teeth across it like she was tasting the kill.

And when the blade twisted, she moaned—just softly—like violence was her favorite kind of foreplay.

And then she vanished into the next corridor.

Bella’s version of it was cleaner.

Colder.

She didn’t charge—she waited.

She let her targets come close, watching them panic as the ground shifted under their feet. Then she raised one delicate hand and cast Ice Bloom with no chant, no announcement—just a whisper.

Spikes of glacial magic exploded beneath their feet, impaling them clean through.

Then she stepped forward, elegant and composed, and drew a fiery rune over the frost.

“Boom.”

The rune ignited the ice—flames consuming frost—and the frozen bodies shattered into smoking, flaming chunks.

She turned her head over her shoulder, tails swaying like silk ribbons in the blood-scented breeze. Her eyes met Allen’s, glowing softly.

“I burned them for you,” she murmured.

Then smiled.

“Did you feel it?” she whispered.

Allen said nothing.

But the grin on his face?

It said everything.

Alice?

She was chaos.

Pure, beautiful chaos.

She teleported into a room filled with glowing statues and deliberately triggered all of them.

The screams started immediately—arcane howls filling the air as five elite mobs activated at once.

Alice just laughed.

“You called?~” she sang.

Then she summoned three illusion mirrors—each a version of herself, each dancing, each whispering different lures as they tore into the enemy with curved void daggers.

Shadow and glass.

Her laughter echoed long after the enemies were dead.

The room still hissed with residual mana, the shattered remains of constructs and corrupted statues strewn like shattered dolls across the stained crystal floor.

Then, with a faint shimmer and a playful pop, Alice appeared beside Allen mid-step—grinning like a cat who just poisoned the milk.

She held out her hand, palm open.

Inside it pulsed—dim, cold, and unnaturally rhythmic—a Pale Heart Core, still beating faintly, veins of mana flickering across its surface like dying starlight.

“For you~” she sang.

Allen took it without a word.

The core vanished into his inventory with a soft pulse.

[You got a Pale Heart Core 1 ea]

Alice didn’t move away.

Instead, she leaned in, her voice dropping to a breathy whisper as her lips brushed just below his ear.

“Praise me, Allen~”

He turned toward her, just slightly. His gaze lowered, slow and deliberate, until it met hers full on.

His voice was low. Velvet edged with hunger.

“Good girl.”

He reached out, thumb trailing along her lower lip before gently tipping her chin up.

“Clever. Cruel. Deadly.”

His smirk deepened.

“Exactly how I like you.”

Alice’s breath hitched.

She giggled.

It wasn’t light or silly—it was delighted chaos bottled in a girl-shaped body.

“I love you,” she whispered, unashamed, wild.

Allen’s hand dropped.

His blade glinted faintly at his side.

“Then kill for me more.”

He stepped past her.

And Alice?

She glowed.

“I will…” she whispered.

Larissa?

She didn’t dance. She hunted.

She was quieter than the others.

Darker.

More intimate.

Her blood blades whispered as they tore through limbs, slicing tendons and joints—not clean kills, but slow, sensual death. She would lean in, brush a victim’s cheek, then slide her blood tendrils across their lips like she was silencing them forever.

She didn’t show off.

She never said anything to Allen.

But he knew.

Every time he turned, there was a new trail of bodies behind her, bent like they died reaching for him.

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