Villain MMORPG: Almighty Devil Emperor and His Seven Demonic Wives-Chapter 1586: Oh~ Right There, Daddy~ (Magic Castle Bonus)

Chapter 1586: Oh~ Right There, Daddy~ (Magic Castle Bonus)

Villain Ch 1586. Oh~ Right There, Daddy~ (Magic Castle Bonus)

Then… Silent. 𝑓𝑟ℯ𝘦𝓌𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝑐ℴ𝓂

But the succubi didn’t vanish.

“Shit!” Red_King slammed his sword into the chest of one leaping at him—clean cut, perfect form.

She gasped in his face, eyes wide, moaning, “Oh~ Right there, Daddy~” before disintegrating in a burst of red hearts.

“AHHHH!” Red_King staggered back, shoulders twitching. “WHY DO THEY SOUND LIKE THEY’RE ENJOYING THIS?!”

“Because we are~,” purred another succubus as she dropped onto his back, arms wrapping around his neck. “You’re strong~ Mmm. I like a man who can swing his sword~”

Red_King shrieked like a man possessed and body-slammed her into the ground with a roll.

Meanwhile, Elio blocked a triple swipe combo from a giggling succubus wearing half a corset and a full smirk.

“Mmm, you’re so firm~” she whispered, sliding a claw across his shield. “Come show me your stamina bar, baby~”

“I’m going to throw up,” Elio muttered, shield-bashing her into a rune spike.

Nearby, two rogues had abandoned stealth and were straight-up screaming as they ran in circles, chased by a pair of laughing succubi blowing kisses that actually exploded on impact.

“WHY ARE THEY HOT AND DEADLY?!” one yelled.

“I DON’T KNOW BUT I WANT TO DIE SLOWLY!”

“STOP ENCOURAGING THEM!”

Azura spun through a trio of succubi, blades flashing, gritting her teeth. “Focus! Focus! You’re elite players, not horny teenagers!”

“I WASN’T PREPARED FOR THIS!” yelled a mage, throwing a lightning bolt that missed both the target and an ally’s face by inches.

“Come and play~” another succubus giggled, licking a blade and dragging a player’s aggro with just a wink.

It was total chaos.

But finally—finally—one by one, the succubi fell.

Not because the players had suddenly found the resolve to resist—no. They were just mad. Desperate. Fighting with pure chaos and confusion.

Shields were clunky.

Buffs mistimed.

Arrows whizzed way too close to people’s heads.

The succubi were only level 85–90, same as the hounds before—but damn if it didn’t feel ten times worse.

It wasn’t the claws. It wasn’t the charm debuffs. It was the flirting. The non-stop, high-level, emotionally destabilizing flirting.

One rogue got clawed across the chest because he stared too long at a swaying set of hips. A tank fumbled a parry after a succubus whispered, “You have such big… stats~” in his ear.

And yeah… they won.

Barely.

Five minutes later, the last of the succubi let out a dramatic gasp—”Ah! Not like this~!”—before vanishing in a puff of glitter.

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The players stood there, chests heaving, gear covered in lipstick marks, claw tears, and regret.

Nobody cheered.

Not even Gil.

Azura stood in the middle, blades sheathed, arms crossed, deadpan face hiding a twitch. “…Can we please concentrate next time?”

Gil sat down with a long sigh, knees bent, eyes glazed. “I just lost a part of my soul.”

“You almost lost your whole head,” Elio snapped.

“No, no—you don’t understand,” Gil murmured, still staring at nothing. “Her thighs… I wanna stay between her thighs forever…”

Azura cringed. “You need holy water.”

A rogue nearby slumped onto a chunk of rubble and stared up at the red sky. “For 26 years,” he said solemnly, “this was the first time a girl ever called me handsome… and I had to kill her.”

Someone else coughed beside him. “Same, bro.”

James flopped down next to a half-melted rune spike, groaning. “I mean… the jiggly melons were nice, though.”

Noah, still brushing glitter off his shoulder plates, gave him a death glare. “You forget how you almost shot me?”

James sat up, pointing right back. “You also almost shot me, damn you!”

“That was a warning shot.”

“YOU AIMED AT MY HEAD.”

“Your face was in the way!”

“GUYS,” Azura shouted. “Enough!”

Across the clearing, Arcana stood silently, his sword lowered, staring off toward the distant silhouette of the Crypt. His whole body was stiff, like he was bracing for something. Beside him, Elio wiped a hand across his face, eyes haunted. Red_King was crouched, arms resting on his knees, looking at the dirt like it had just told him his love life would never recover.

Azura approached slowly, brow furrowed.

“…Guys?” Azura said, glancing between the silent men. “Say something.”

No one moved.

Her brows furrowed. “Arcana?”

He slowly raised one gloved hand, voice quiet. “Please… I need a little space to think.”

Azura blinked, startled. “Think?” She stepped closer, confused. “That’s not like you—what is there to—”

She reached out and grabbed his shoulder— and stopped.

Because his armor was warm.

Too warm.

She leaned in. He was blushing. Bright red across the neck.

Her eyes darted to Elio. Also red.

Red_King?

Bright. Tomato red.

She slowly let go of Arcana’s shoulder. “Oh. Uh… please don’t say it.”

Red_King cleared his throat, not looking up. “…We’re healthy and normal men, so… yeah.”

Azura took one careful step back. “I regret asking.”

Father^Alex spoke next, voice quiet and shaky, still clutching his staff like it was a chastity baton. “B-but… we still have to move…”

He sounded like a choirboy who had just survived a strip club during a demon exorcism.

No one questioned it.

They didn’t laugh. They didn’t tease.

Because deep down… they got it.

This wasn’t just a goofy fight. It wasn’t just another mini-boss.

The succubi got to them.

Mentally, emotionally, maybe spiritually.

They were built to distract, and boy—did it work.

Gil muttered something about changing his entire build into a thigh-resistant tank. Another rogue swore off dating apps forever. Even James looked like he needed a nap, a shower, and a therapist.

Elio finally spoke again. “We wasted too much time.”

Arcana nodded. “Agreed. Reset buffs. Heal up. We move in five.”

Azura let out a breath. “You all better pray the next boss isn’t a full-body pillow with wings.”

Red_King mumbled, “I’m not ready…”

Gil grinned dreamily. “I am.”

A silence passed.

And then someone muttered in the back, “…Worth it.”

And no one—not one of them—dared say he was wrong.

But the battlefield wasn’t going to wait for them to process their collective trauma.