Novel Full Chapter 1834: Emotional Malpractice
Chapter 1834: Emotional Malpractice
Villain Ch 1834. Emotional Malpractice
Her left eye twitched.
She could already hear Allen’s voice if she tried to swing at him.
‘Really? After everything I did to you?’
She swore she could feel his smirk in the air.
Her heartbeat was not in combat mode. It was in oops-I-accidentally-slept-with-the-final-boss mode.
Azura swallowed thickly. Tried to breathe.
Her foot stepped back—just slightly—but enough.
Enough for everyone around her to notice.
Red_King blinked. “Yo. Is she alright?”
Gil tilted his head, whispering toward Arcana, “She looks like she’s about to puke or run. Or both.”
“I don’t know,” Arcana muttered, frowning. “She’s been acting weird since we left the war room. Has she said anything?”
Gil squinted. “Nope. Just stood there like she saw the ghost of her ex.”
Arcana gave him a look. “Seriously?”
Gil shrugged. “What? It’s the exact face my ex made when she saw me holding hands with her twin.”
Red_King blinked. “Dude.”
Azura didn’t respond to any of it.
She was stuck.
Caught in this absurd mental paradox.
Fight Allen? Fight the man who bit her thigh and called her a goddess with his mouth full?
Hell. No.
Her knees almost gave out just thinking about it.
The others saw battle stats. Buff timers. Guild pride.
She saw abs.
And sinful hands.
And whispered promises laced with growls.
She nearly slapped herself. Right there in the plaza.
What the hell was wrong with her?
He was a villain now. An enemy. The cause of mass death.
But her brain?
It was like.
Enemy: Devil Emperor.
Also Enemy: Damn, he looked good while doing it.
This wasn’t a dilemma.
This was emotional malpractice.
Still frozen.
Still silent.
Azura tried to breathe through it. Think logically. Strategize.
Okay. Okay. There’s a chance he won’t show up. Maybe it’s just his girls.
Right?
Right?
Then the wind shifted.
The atmosphere bent.
Every instinct in her soul screamed.
And deep inside her chest—where fear and thrill collided—she felt him.
He was coming.
They didn’t know it yet.
But Azura did.
Her skin prickled. Not from the cold, not from the mana saturation in the air—but from him. That eerie, crawling sensation in her bones, the static under her skin, the one that whispered:
Allen.
He was near.
And it didn’t matter that he was the Devil Emperor now.
Her body still remembered the way he kissed her.
The way he said her name like it was a sin he was about to commit.
She squeezed her eyes shut.
No. Focus.
They were in the middle of Ilude’s main plaza. Packed. Overbuffed. Overarmed. The highest-leveled raid coalition in the server. You’d think that’d offer some kind of comfort.
It didn’t.
Because the crowd was getting bigger.
Way bigger.
Too big.
To the point it was getting annoying.
They were elbow to elbow, shoulder to shoulder, knee to fcking backplate.
“Seriously?” Gil hissed, trying to elbow someone off his tailcoat. “Who the hell are all these people? We’re already maxed on raid slots!”
“Calm down, everyone,” Father^Alex said, his healing staff raised slightly above his head like a white-flagged olive branch. “This is just a little… hiccup. Let’s not panic—”
“You need to speak louder,” Mastercraft barked, trying to keep eyes on the rooftops.
“I want to!” Alex snapped, his soft priest-boy voice cracking, “but… Mphhh!”
Someone shoved into him from behind and his words muffled into the back of a heavily armored barbarian.
Red_King pushed someone aside with a grunt. “Back the hell up before I start cleaving names!”
“Everyone chill,” Elio barked from the front. “This can’t be normal. What the hell is happening?!”
The crowd kept swelling. It was like… they were multiplying. Players breathing down necks, pressing in from the alleys. Faces unfamiliar. Empty-eyed. Clunky movement.
Like they weren’t quite…
Alive.
And that’s when Elio shoved back.
What he touched wasn’t a player.
It was cold.
Rigid.
Armored.
It didn’t grunt.
It didn’t move like a human.
Because it wasn’t.
It was an undead knight.
And when Elio looked down at his gauntlet—there was blood on it.
“AMBUSH!!” he roared.
And the plaza exploded.
Undead warriors surged forward—fifty, maybe more—emerging from between players, from side alleys, from under carts, from the fcking walls. Swords drawn, eyes glowing violet, movements jerky and furious.
The square went from raid-ready to full panic in half a heartbeat.
Screams erupted.
Spells misfired.
Someone fired a fireball into the crowd and lit three allies on fire.
“BACK LINE TO FRONT! FORM A WALL!” Arcana shouted, sword raised high. “FALL BACK TO THE INNER SANCTUM!”
Too late.
The first undead knight leapt onto a paladin, driving its jagged blade through his faceplate and pinning him to the cobblestone like a meat kebab.
[Player IronPledge has been slain.]
Blood sprayed. The knight wrenched the blade sideways, cutting his head off at the jaw.
Gil screamed. “WE’RE SURROUNDED!!”
Azura backed up. Blades drawn. Breath caught.
But her eyes weren’t on the undead.
They were scanning the skyline.
The rooftops. The shadows.
Because this?
This wasn’t Allen’s style.
He was nearby.
Watching.
Waiting.
The undead were the appetizer.
Then the scream started.
Not from a player.
From above.
A shriek. Sharp. Sonic.
Shea.
The Siren dropped from the sky like a missile, blade-feathers out, wings spread wide like a fallen angel on the warpath.
Her scream ripped through the plaza—literally. Eardrums burst. Blood sprayed from ears. Lower-level players collapsed.
Then came the feathers.
Razor-sharp. Enchanted. Screaming through the air like hell’s confetti.
Ten players went down instantly—sliced across the neck, eyes, arms, faces. Flesh peeling in delicate ribbons.
[Player BoomFist44 has been slain.]
[Player Cure_Girl has been slain.]
[Player JustHere4Loot has been slain.]
“WHAT THE FCK—” Red_King roared, raising his sword. “AIR SUPPORT!! SOMEBODY SHOOT HER DOWN!!”
Too late.
Zoe’s tentacles burst from the sewer grates.
One snapped around a tank’s leg.
CRACK.
The sound of his shin folding like wet cardboard.
Another tentacle shot up, grabbed a mage, and slammed her into the ground three times before throwing her through a shop window.
Blood everywhere.
A third tentacle whipped around a dual dagger rogue—pulled him screaming into the sewer.
Only bones floated back up.
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