Villain MMORPG: Almighty Devil Emperor and His Seven Demonic Wives Chapter 1542: Did He Just Try to Boop Me? (Dragon Bonus Obyr

Chapter 1542: Did He Just Try to Boop ? (Dragon Bonus Obyren)

Villain Ch 1542. Did He Just Try to Boop ? (Dragon Bonus Obyren)

Then the middle head bared its fangs.

“Let us see how you handle this.”

With a guttural snarl, the red-eyed head inhaled—and unleashed a concentrated beam of abyssal force directly at Allen.

“Void Mirage.”

Allen summoned a flickering illusion and dashed sideways just in ti.

The beam annihilated the afterimage, the explosion blasting a hole the size of a house into the far wall of the chamber.

Allen didn’t stop moving. He couldn’t afford even a second of hesitation.

He vaulted over debris, skidding under a swipe of Azdraeth’s colossal claw, flipping up onto a broken pillar and using it as a springboard to launch himself toward the left neck.

“Soul Siphon.”

A glowing black tether fired from Allen’s hand, stabbing into Azdraeth’s flesh where he had made the earlier wound. Energy rushed back into Allen’s body, rejuvenating his battered fra.

[HP Restored 51,000]

Azdraeth hissed, smoke billowing from his nostrils.

anwhile, the others were fighting tooth and nail against the horde.

Bella launched continuous Ice Lances and Fireballs in wild sweeps.

Jane was half-standing, half-riding a stitched-together skeletal abomination like so nightmarish mount, hurling Death Novas into the minions.

Vivian whipped entire groups into disarray, lashing with cruel precision.

But the tide wasn’t slowing.

Every minute, new minions poured from the portals.

And Allen was being hunted.

The golden-eyed head lunged, jaws snapping down at him with a speed that belied its size.

Allen braced his sword upward to parry—and was hurled backward by the sheer force of the impact, his boots scraping molten trails across the floor.

His back slamd into the base of the throne, stars bursting across his vision.

Everything hurt.

He barely had ti to breathe before the middle head snapped at him again.

Allen gritted his teeth, heart pounding, and rolled to the side just as a massive claw crushed the spot where he’d been lying.

“Damn it—” he rasped.

The right head giggled.

“You almost got squished! It was gonna be aweso!”

“Shut up,” Allen snarled as he pushed himself to his feet.

Breathing ragged. Arms trembling. Mana low.

And yet— He smiled.

Because sowhere in that endless well of stubbornness inside him, he wasn’t afraid.

He was alive.

Allen raised his sword again, aura flaring even brighter, burning like a second sun.

The dragon king was strong.

Gigantic.

Insanely powerful.

But so was he.

“Co on then!” Allen roared, voice carrying across the chamber. “If you’re going to kill —do it properly!”

The dragon’s three heads watched him carefully.

The middle one rumbled low.

“He endures.”

The golden one nodded with grim approval.

“He bleeds… yet he stands.”

The right head? It just laughed.

“I like him. Let’s keep him!”

And with another earth-shattering roar, the King of the Abyss ca at Allen once more—

—and Allen charged back, sword low, wings unfurling with a sharp snap.

The collision was a blur of force and fury.

Allen dodged left at the last second, the claw swipe missing him by inches, the wind from it slamming into his face like a physical slap. He skidded low along the ground, boots sparking against the obsidian floor, and then—bam—he kicked off the ground and launched himself skyward, wings pumping hard against the heavy, ash-thick air.

Azdraeth’s three heads tracked him as he rose, spiraling upward through the abyssal-lit chamber.

[Demonic Form has been activated!]

[All status 50%]

[Ti remaining: 4:59]

A flash of dark energy ignited around Allen’s body.

The black veins across his skin glowed brighter, his sword humming with raw power. His wings grew even larger, more jagged at the edges—like sothing torn from a nightmare—and his eyes burned with violent red light.

“Alright, ugly,” Allen muttered under his breath, grinning like a lunatic. “Round two.”

The dragon didn’t wait.

The middle head fired another compressed beam of void energy straight at him.

Allen dove, wings tucking in tight against his body as the blast tore past him, ripping a gaping wound through the far wall.

Stone and debris exploded outward in a rain of molten shards.

“Focus, dummy!” the golden head barked at the derpy one as it started humming the Jeopardy the while watching Allen fly.

Allen flared his wings wide, halting his montum mid-air, and retaliated imdiately.

“Dark Storm.”

The sky above the throne chamber blackened even more, if that was possible.

A swirling vortex of lightning, wind, and darkness crashed down, the eye of the storm centered right on top of Azdraeth.

Crackling bolts of black lightning rained down, hamring the dragon’s armored body.

Azdraeth snarled—an ugly, vibrating sound that rattled Allen’s ribs even from above.

But the dragon king didn’t stay pinned for long.

With a violent snap of his massive wings, Azdraeth launched himself upward—shattering the stone floor beneath him.

Allen cursed and jerked back, flipping through the air to dodge the upward blast of abyssal energy that erupted from the cracks.

And suddenly—it wasn’t a ground battle anymore.

It was aerial.

High up, just under the abyssal void ceiling of the throne chamber, Allen found himself nose-to-nose ,or more accurately, nose-to-three-noses, with the King of the Abyss.

The dragon’s heads circled him like vultures, each head snapping and feinting in perfect, terrifying rhythm.

Allen barrel-rolled left, dodging a snap from the middle head.

Kicked downward to avoid the golden-eyed one lunging for his legs.

And shoved off a swirling gust of magic with his wings to dodge the derpy head that… tried to boop him with its nose?

Allen blinked mid-flight. ‘Did… did he just try to boop ?’ he cringed.

He shook his head hard, eyes narrowing.

He needed a real opening.

“Demonic Orbs.”

Fifty glowing spheres of condensed abyssal energy materialized around him, spinning faster and faster.

He flung them downward—not at Azdraeth’s heads, but at his wings.

The orbs smashed into the dragon’s wing joints, detonating in synchronized bursts of black lightning and pressure.

Azdraeth roared in irritation as one wing faltered for a brief, precious second.

Allen seized the chance.

He dove, sword-first, wings folded tight for speed.