Villain MMORPG: Almighty Devil Emperor and His Seven Demonic Wives

Chapter 1691: Wedding Hell [Part 1]

Villain Ch 1691. Wedding Hell [Part 1]

[System Notice: Quest Objective Updated – Follow the Groom or Fail the Mission.]

The groom’s ghostlike figure strode ahead through the corridor—graceful, determined, mechanical wings folded behind his back like folded judgment. He didn’t wait. Didn’t slow. Didn’t pause at intersections for dramatic pacing.

He was leaving them behind.

And the system meant it. The transparent groom shimmered, beginning to blur with distance. A faint red marker blinked over his head, tracking his movement—until it pulsed yellow.

[Warning: Target Out of Range – Progress Will Be Lost.]

“Move!” Allen snapped.

The team burst into motion after him, feet pounding on cracked marble. The walls on either side groaned with arcane pressure. Runes flickered, sensors tracking them like prey.

Then—like a curse timed with their sprint—monsters dropped from the ceiling.

Half-fused knights. Mechanical cherubs twisted into bladed horrors. Their shrieks pierced through the hall like cracked bells.

“No time for this!” Larissa growled.

One charged. Allen spun, thrusting his hand out.

’Telekinesis Blast!’

A thunderclap of force exploded forward. The creature crashed into the wall, splattering into half-assembled gore.

Another one lunged from the side. Allen’s blade slashed horizontally—too fast to track. Steel bit through metal, through whatever holy rot pulsed inside the things.

The groom kept walking.

Didn’t glance at the blood, didn’t care about the death trail behind him.

Allen shadow-stepped past a blocked corridor, reappearing with a ripple of darkness just behind the groom’s marker. He turned briefly, eyes scanning the battlefield. “Push through!”

Jane was blasting with cursed flame, each burst sending corrupted pages fluttering through the air like demonic confetti.

“I need a pause button for this mission!” she yelled over the chaos. “Or at least a snack!”

“Welcome to real-time nightmare mode!” Vivian shouted, her scythe cleaving a mechanical priest in half. Blood hit the ceiling like a gory chandelier.

Bella, skipping through corpses like a cheerleader on Red Bull, twirled and screamed, “We are gonna make it! We’re gonna crash a wedding!”

Zoe smashed a tentacle into a charging construct, bones cracking beneath mechanical plating. “I hate weddings.”

“Right behind you!” Alice called to Allen, her broom absorbing a divine pulse before knocking a monstrosity off its feet.

Shea darted past Allen, feather blades stabbing upward into a flying cherub’s jaw. The thing sparked violently before disintegrating midair.

Allen’s muscles burned. His breathing steady, but not easy. He wasn’t just fighting mobs anymore—he was fighting a deadline. Every second lost was a step closer to failure.

And the system wasn’t pulling any punches.

“Left side!” Larissa shouted.

Allen didn’t look. He just spun and slashed, catching the attacker’s arm mid-lunge and severing it clean off. Blood splashed across his cheek.

[Warning: Target Exiting Range.]

Allen hissed under his breath. “Nope.”

Shadow Step. Again. Teleported forward, narrowly dodging an energy lance. His momentum carried him beside the groom again—just as the creature turned a corridor into another cathedral-like expanse.

Stained glass flickered. The groom’s transparent form passed through pews and obstacles without notice. Allen’s team, meanwhile, had to duck, roll, slash, and scream.

“I’m pretty sure,” Jane shouted, panting, “that this is what wedding hell looks like.”

“No!” Bella gasped, dodging a bolt. “Wedding hell has slow internet and unseasoned chicken!”

Allen gritted his teeth and kicked another mob into a pew hard enough to snap its spine. “Focus!”

A blast to his side nearly caught him—but Shea deflected it midair with a ripple of water, her wings gleaming.

Vivian let out a low whistle. “This is more aggressive than I thought.”

“It’s a final arc,” Allen growled. “Of course it escalates.”

The mobs didn’t stop. No room to breathe. No checkpoint. Every few feet another monstrosity came charging. The worst part? The groom didn’t react.

As if none of it mattered.

As if he wasn’t part of the same cursed play.

He just kept walking.

And Allen? Allen kept chasing. Kept carving. His blade didn’t stop swinging—cutting through plated torsos, cleaving heads, disarming weapons—and sometimes, disarming arms. Blood soaked his coat, splashed on his face, dried into his hair. He didn’t care.

What mattered was the distance. The groom couldn’t escape.

A bigger monster crashed down—some fused abomination of three knights stapled together.

Allen didn’t hesitate.

He jumped.

Sword reversed in his grip.

And slammed the tip through the creature’s skull midair, riding it down in a crash of bone and circuitry.

[Warning: Target Escaping Range.]

He cursed, rolled, and kept running.

Shea sprinted past him, sliding under a knight’s swing and slashing its heels.

Zoe’s tentacles bashed another mob into the wall, crushing its ribcage.

“We’re gonna make it!” Bella cheered, breathless.

“Speak for yourself,” Larissa panted. “I’ve stabbed so many paladins today I might be cursed.”

“No,” Allen said between gasps. “You’re already cursed,” he added.

“True,” she smirked.

Another flight of stairs. Another hallway. Another wave.

He shadow-stepped again—just in time to see the groom’s form slow.

Ahead.

Finally.

A door.

A giant circular sanctum gate, already creaking open.

“GO!” Allen roared.

They surged forward in sync. The last few mobs thrown aside, bodies piling in unnatural heaps. Bella’s last spell detonated behind them, flaring like a dying sun. They rushed through the threshold.

And froze.

The final chamber was circular, towering, and stained in ivory and crimson.

Pillars spiraled upward like ribs.

Holy runes etched in gold circled the altar.

And there, at the center of it all, stood the groom.

Solid now. No longer transparent. Breathing slowly.

Waiting.

Behind him—the bride.

The Saint.

Kneeling. Shackled by golden chains.

Flanked by two knights in ruined paladin armor, their visors glowing with holy sigils.

The air fell silent.

Their footsteps echoed once—and stopped.

Allen raised his blade slowly.

His voice came out low, controlled.

“No more chasing.”

The moment Allen stepped into the final chamber, the door behind them groaned and slammed shut like a verdict. The air thickened—choked with incense, electricity, and something far older. The twisted cathedral spire loomed above them, flickering with false light.

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