Villain MMORPG: Almighty Devil Emperor and His Seven Demonic Wives
Chapter 1683: Bound Saint

Chapter 1683: Bound Saint

Villain Ch 1683. Bound Saint

"Maybe he was just following divine orders, okay? What if he thought we were his destined brides across every timeline? That’s, like... cosmic romance!" Bella added.

"Romantic?" Allen gave her a look like she’d just confessed to dating a ceiling fan. "He tried to strangle Larissa with sanctified tentacles and called her property."

Bella beamed. "See? He just had a bad breakup!"

"Can we please stop giving him lore," Allen groaned.

Jane, walking ahead, bouncing on one shoulder, looked over. "You know, since that whole ’Bound Saint’ quest is basically just a forced marriage metaphor, I do wonder if we’re gonna get roped into some tragic love drama."

Zoe blinked. "Like...?"

Jane clapped her hands together. "Like maybe the original bride got married off to some divine warlord she didn’t love. But then a noble knight interrupted the wedding—confessed everything in front of the altar—aaaand then died tragically in her arms after being skewered by a flying cathedral lance."

"...Damn," Vivian said. "So you’re into angst now?"

Jane wrinkled her nose. "Ew, don’t say that. I’m not a masochist. I just read a few of those old forbidden faction romance novels. The ones with the bloodstained covers and way too much shirtless brooding. I’m just guessing!"

Alice tilted her head slightly. "I prefer the version where the bride kills the groom on the wedding day. Efficient. Clean. One-stab ceremony."

Bella raised her hand, tails bouncing. "Or better—maybe she kills him when they do it. It’d be epic. Like imagine he whispers ’I love you’ and she just snaps his neck. Nyahahahaha~!"

"...That’s not romantic," Zoe said with a full-body shiver. "That’s—sadist."

Shea yawned into her hand. "Honestly, I’m more into the mechanical theology of this dungeon. I mean—holy robots? Half-priests, half battle mechs? That’s fresh. Thematically weird, but fresh."

Allen nodded, still scanning ahead. "True. I mean, come on—machines with divine protocols and sanctified targeting logic? That’s not random. Somebody built this place with a very specific obsession."

Larissa stepped closer to him. "Guys... don’t you think this place is too quiet?"

Everyone paused mid-step.

She was right.

The echoes were too clean. No shuffling mobs. No groaning pews. Not even distant screeches or magic static. Just the sound of their footsteps and the occasional tink of Allen’s coat brushing broken glass.

"True," Zoe said slowly. "Too quiet."

"It’s been quiet since we entered," Jane added. "Maybe we just logged in on the dungeon’s holiday. Bound Saint Memorial Day or something."

Allen didn’t laugh.

Bella tilted her head. "Do dungeons even have holidays?"

"Maybe they do," Zoe mused. "Like, every year on this day the saints take a break from smiting."

Vivian snorted. "They probably throw a tea party and gossip about which corrupted knight ruined their altar last."

"Wait—do corrupted knights get fan clubs?" Bella asked, wide-eyed.

"No," Allen said firmly.

"Yes," Larissa said at the same time.

Allen shot her a look. "Traitor."

She smirked. "Just saying, you’d be popular in holy prison."

"Please stop," Allen muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Then—

As they stepped into the next chamber—a round hall with broken statues of chained angels and an enormous shattered organ at its center— the path behind them sealed.

-BOOM!

Marble doors snapped closed behind the party like the jaws of a divine beast.

[System Alert – Quest Update: The Bride and the Bound Saint]

[Stage Two Initiated: Judgment Hall of Echoes]

[Objective: Survive the ritual execution and reach the bridal sanctum.]

[Warning: All demon-type and darkness-based powers are reduced by 60% in this zone.]

[Holy Light Saturation: High]

[Combat Mode: Melee Preferred. Spellcasting Delayed.]

Allen winced as the notification hit.

"I hate this dungeon."

"My mana’s all fuzzy," Zoe muttered, flicking her fingers. "Like trying to cast while submerged in coffee foam."

"Same," Allen said. "Feels like my aura’s been shoved through a confession booth and came out neutered."

"...Nice imagery," Vivian muttered.

Allen summoned his blade anyway—one-handed, obsidian, jagged, humming with rage. The runes along the edge flickered, not as vibrant. Still lethal, but slower. More resistance.

Then the ground shook again.

Hard.

Cracks webbed across the floor tiles, circling the edge of the chamber. Steam and white light burst from every fracture.

The entire room rotated once with a grinding metal shriek, like someone twisted a cathedral on its axis.

Then, eight portals lit up around the edge of the room—equal distances apart, each shaped like a coffin arch.

Eight figures stepped through.

They were tall. Unnatural. Machine-like, but clothed in tattered holy garb—robes stitched with chains and scripture. Their helmets resembled wedding masks, with hollow mouths and hollower eyes.

[Enemy Identified: Shrinebound Enforcer – "Vowkeeper" – Lv. 210]

[Enemy Identified: Cathedral Executioner – "Saintsplitter" – Lv. 212]

[Enemy Identified: Bride Seeker Drone (x3) – Lv. 205]

[Enemy Identified: Confessor Herald – "Blamebringer" – Lv. 214]

[Enemy Identified: Sanctum Echo Knight – "Regretless" – Lv. 215]

[Enemy Identified: Modified Gilded Warden Core – Lv. 218]

The monsters stepped forward in unison, glowing symbols etched across their chestplates.

"Catch the bride!" they chanted, voices layered with static.

"Bring her back to the sanctum!"

"She is not yet forgiven!"

"She must be purified!"

The whole party bristled.

Then Allen’s bonded Warden—the corrupted one he’d soulbound earlier—stepped forward from the shadows. The others hadn’t noticed it stirring until now.

Its eyes flared gold again—not Allen’s red—but deep, broken, angry.

And in a voice twice as loud as the others, it shouted.

"Die, corrupted sinner!"

Allen stared. Expression... ’absolutely done’.

"...This dungeon is sexist."

Vivian looked like she was barely holding in laughter. "Better than if he called you a bride too."

Allen shivered. "You know what? Make sense." He gripped his sword tighter, shaking his head. "This entire dungeon needs therapy."

Zoe raised her hand. "You or the dungeon?"

"Both."

He exhaled once, stepping forward into the center of the circular room. His eyes scanned the enemies—eight directions, rotating formation, clockwise movement. No time for flashy spells.

Just raw, dirty, physical combat.

He muttered, "Let’s finish this."

The monsters moved in.

And the next phase began.