Novel Full Chapter 1711: Pattern and Precision (Magic Castle Bonus)
Chapter 1711: Pattern and Precision (Magic Castle Bonus)
Villain Ch 1711. Pattern and Precision (Magic Castle Bonus)
’He’s faster now. Too fast.’
She launched a counter—sliding under the reach of his blade and slashing at his legs, but he read it instantly. His body turned with unnatural smoothness. He stepped just enough to the side, and the moment her footing shifted—he was there.
-Clang!
His blade raked across her right dagger, knocking it away with a brutal twist of the wrist. The force sent a jolt up her arm. Before she could fully recover, the sword reversed and slammed flat against her stomach in a sweeping arc.
She gasped.
The pain system wasn’t at full setting, but it still knocked the air from her lungs.
Azura stumbled back, one hand gripping her stomach where the impact left a faint crimson trail across her armor. A real hit. Not simulated. He could’ve gone for a kill strike… and he didn’t.
’Why didn’t he?’
No. She already knew.
He was giving her a choice.
He wasn’t showing mercy. He was showing truth.
Allen didn’t speak. His blade did.
Every step he took forward was calm and calculated. That cold glint in his eyes—glacier-sharp, emotionless, but aware of everything. He wasn’t looking at her anymore.
He was analyzing.
Azura rushed in again. Her feet kicked off the ground in a blinding sprint, both daggers aimed for his blindside. She twisted mid-run, feinting right and slashing left.
Allen didn’t flinch.
His blade turned smoothly, caught her left dagger mid-arc, and guided it away like it weighed nothing. Before she could twist again, his elbow drove into her ribs. Not a full strike—just a sharp, mechanical interruption.
Azura coughed and staggered sideways.
He didn’t let her breathe.
He followed.
One step. Blade arcing.
She parried. Barely.
Again.
Her daggers clashed against his sword. Her body moved on reflex. Her mind racing.
’That pattern. The precision. The economy of motion.’
’He’s fought like this before.’
No…
’He killed like this before.’
Azura’s breath hitched.
She ducked under his next swing, barely managing to slash his side. It landed—but only just. A shallow cut.
Allen didn’t even react to it.
He pivoted with an unnatural stillness, blade flipping in his hand as if it was part of him.
Another hit.
This one grazed her shoulder, slicing through her armor and biting skin. Her body jerked from the pain, blood seeping through the fabric.
She stumbled.
Then it hit her.
It wasn’t the cut. It wasn’t the speed.
It was the sequence.
The exact rhythm.
That one fight.
The Devil Emperor.
She’d been killed like this.
In the game.
The devil emperor had moved like a demon, like a predator dressed in elegance and wrath. No player had ever won against him.
A developer-inserted AI. Some over-tuned endgame monster.
But now?
Azura coughed, blood slipping from her lip.
The duel paused for a breath.
Just one.
Enough for her to straighten, eyes wide with disbelief. Her voice cracked when she said it—
“I see…”
Allen didn’t speak.
Azura touched her wound. Looked up.
Her voice was quiet. And sure.
“The Devil Emperor… is you.”
Azura held her breath.
She thought it would stop him.
Thought it might make him hesitate.
Even for just a second.
She wanted to see some flicker of guilt in his eyes. Some break in the mask.
Something human.
But she was wrong.
Allen didn’t flinch.
He didn’t look shaken.
He didn’t even blink.
He just tilted his head slightly, that familiar calm settling over him like silk over a blade. The ghost of a smirk touched his lips.
“Bingo.”
Azura’s heart kicked in her chest—too fast, too loud. Her hand curled tighter around her dagger hilt. The weight of the revelation pressed down on her ribs like stone. She suddenly felt too hot in her armor. Her throat dry. The wind in this cursed arena howled behind her, like it, too, already knew the answer.
She swallowed hard.
“All of us… every Hell’s Gate guild, every alliance…” she said, voice shaking slightly, “we’ve been fighting a monster this whole time. Not an AI. Not some cheat. A real player.”
Allen stepped forward again, each footfall echoing like a metronome of inevitability.
“And no one ever won.”
Azura’s grip tightened.
She was still trying to ground herself, trying to feel something other than disbelief.
“You weren’t a Goldborne when the game launched,” she blurted, words tumbling past her lips as her mind scrambled through every memory, every news drop, every roster change.
Allen didn’t deny it.
He just gave her a slow nod.
“Not yet,” he said calmly. “But they chose me.”
Azura’s breath caught in her chest.
She looked at him—really looked. The way he stood. The way he held his weapon with absolute familiarity. The way his voice didn’t tremble even once.
They chose him.
She exhaled sharply, bitter.
“They chose you because you’re a monster.”
Allen’s smile didn’t waver.
“Yes,” he said. “They chose me because I’m me.”
Azura blinked. Her stomach sank.
He wasn’t pretending to be something he wasn’t.
He never had.
That was the scariest part.
It wasn’t about hiding.
It wasn’t about lies.
It was about controlling what people believed.
Allen didn’t wear masks.
He simply let people project whatever made them feel safer.
And when it was time—he shattered the illusion himself.
Allen always played the long game.
And now she was in the middle of it.
Another attack came. She blocked, barely. Her arm throbbed.
He circled her like a shadow. Quiet. Unrelenting.
Azura’s mind spun. But her body kept moving. Training kicked in. She backstepped, her breath ragged.
“Was it fun?” she asked between gasps. “Watching us all… guess? Worship your kill record?”
Allen’s sword slashed down again. Azura deflected, but it scraped her wrist. Her fingers loosened.
“Sometimes,” he said at last.
Azura’s vision blurred, but she didn’t fall.
Not yet.
“You could’ve told me,” she said, voice hoarse.
Allen’s eyes didn’t flicker. “The contract didn’t let me.”
She let out a short, bitter laugh—more breath than sound. “Then why are you saying it now?”
There was a beat.
Barely a second.
Then Allen said, low and calm, “Because I finally got permission.”