Villain Ch 180. Empty Vessels Make The Most Noise
The guild members stood frozen in disbelief, their eyes wide with shock as they beheld the monstrous Slime King. It was evident that this unexpected turn of events had caught them completely off guard. The realization dawned on them that the notorious devil emperor possessed the ability to summon powerful mini-bosses to aid him in battle.
Whispers of astonishment and trepidation rippled through their ranks as they exchanged worried glances. This revelation shattered their preconceived notions of the battle, leaving them to question the true extent of the emperor's capabilities.
The Slime King unleashed a horde of smaller slimes that surged forward with voracious hunger. The once orderly battle formation of the guild members devolved into chaos as they desperately tried to fend off the onslaught of the Slime King's minions. The slimy creatures oozed and squirmed, their acidic touch posing a significant threat to the players.
As the guild members scrambled to regain their composure and adapt to the sudden change in the battlefield, Allen's smirk widened. From his vantage point in the sky, he observed the ensuing mayhem with a mixture of amusement and satisfaction. The chaos fueled his sadistic pleasure, relishing in the havoc he had unleashed upon his adversaries.
He reveled in the sight of the guild members struggling against the relentless tide of slimes. Their expressions of frustration and panic only served to feed his delight, as he relished in the chaos and discord he had incited. Allen's eyes gleamed with a wicked gleam, finding entertainment in their desperate attempts to regain control of the battle.
But only a moment later, Allen's eyes narrowed as he observed the lone dual daggers user attempting to outmaneuver the chaos and make a direct path toward the towering structure.
"Hmm... That is a nice strategy," he thought. A faint hint of admiration flickered within him, acknowledging the clever strategy employed by the player. If Allen were in his shoes, he might have done the same—capitalizing on agility and letting the other players handle the monstrous horde.
However, any trace of mercy or empathy was swiftly extinguished within him.
In an instant, Allen's mischievous smirk returned, his devious mind conjuring up a new challenge for the daring player. "Summon…" With a decisive snap of his fingers, he summoned another formidable opponent, the Gryphon. The creature materialized before him, its wings outstretched and its powerful claws poised for battle.
"Kill him," Allen commanded, his voice laced with dark amusement. The Gryphon, under his control, leaped into action without hesitation, launching a swift and deadly assault against the unsuspecting dual daggers user. The clash between the two combatants was swift and brutal, with Gryphon's superior strength and ferocity overwhelming its opponent. In a matter of moments, the soloist fell victim to Gryphon's merciless onslaught, meeting an untimely demise.
Feeling a tinge of restlessness from the monotonous observation, Allen decided it was time to step into the fray and test his own mettle. The monsters, once a formidable horde, had been steadily dwindling in numbers as the valiant players pushed forward with unwavering determination. As tempting as it was to summon more mini bosses and relish in the chaos they would unleash, Allen knew it would only serve to bore him. He craved a challenge, something that would ignite his competitive spirit and sharpen his skills further. Besides, he reasoned, a proper warm-up was in order for the upcoming second event.
With a flick of his wrist, he conjured a cascade of Demonic Orbs that rained down upon the unsuspecting warriors. The orbs burst upon impact, unleashing a wave of dark energy that sent shockwaves through their ranks. Startled and caught off guard, the players were shocked and momentarily disoriented by the unexpected assault.
Chuckling to himself, Allen descended gracefully from the sky, landing amidst the chaotic battlefield with a flourish. His presence alone sent ripples of unease through the remaining players, their gazes locked on him in a mixture of awe and trepidation. He reveled in their astonished expressions, relishing the fear and uncertainty that clung to the air like a palpable miasma.
With an eerie grace, Allen darted through the battlefield, his demonic claws slashing through the air with lethal precision. He moved like a shadow, his speed and agility unmatched by any player on the field. Each strike he delivered was calculated and devastating, targeting the players' vital points with merciless accuracy.
The sound of metal meeting flesh echoed through the city as Allen's claws found their marks. His attacks were swift and brutal, leaving behind trails of crimson as his victims succumbed to the onslaught. Critical damage numbers flashed above their heads, indicating the severity of their injuries, while the bleeding status effect drained their health with every passing second.
Laughter erupted from Allen's lips, a chilling symphony that mixed with the cacophony of battle. It was a sound filled with sadistic pleasure, a manifestation of his twisted enjoyment in the chaos and suffering he unleashed. His eyes gleamed with a sinister light as he reveled in the mayhem he had wrought, his bloodlust reaching its peak.
The players, once filled with determination and hope, now found themselves overwhelmed by the sheer ferocity of their opponent. Panic gripped their hearts as they struggled to defend against Allen's relentless onslaught. Their formation crumbled, their once-coordinated efforts devolving into a desperate scramble for survival.
Allen's movements were a blur. One by one, players fell beneath his onslaught. His attacks were merciless, leaving no room for mercy or respite.
The trail of corpses and the pooling of blood painted a macabre picture. It was as if his mere presence had unleashed a whirlwind of destruction upon the battlefield. Players who had once held hope in their hearts now faced the grim reality of their impending demise.
In his wake, Allen left a devastating display of power. His enemies fell like dominoes, their lifeless bodies strewn across the once bustling streets of the city. His demonic claws danced through the air with lethal precision, delivering fatal blows and leaving a trail of carnage in their wake.
The players who had managed to breach the defenses and approach the towering structure met a grim fate as Allen swiftly dispatched them. His movements were a blur of motion, his speed unmatched by any opponent. With each strike, he extinguished their hopes of victory, ensuring that the tower remained untouched. It was clear that none could withstand his might, and his dominance over the battlefield was absolute.
As the chaos unfolded, curses and screams filled the air. Some players, mostly inexperienced novices, could not help but express their frustration and fear in the face of such overwhelming power. Allen reveled in their agony, finding twisted amusement in their futile attempts to challenge his supremacy. Their feeble resistance only served to further fuel his sadistic pleasure.
To him, the cacophony of curses and screams was a symphony, a twisted melody that played harmoniously with the sounds of death and destruction. It was a constant reminder of his dominance and the fear he instilled in his adversaries. The weaker no more than playthings to him. Their struggles were a source of amusement, a twisted joke that brought a twisted smile to Allen's face. Well, empty vessels made the most noise after all.
But amidst the chaos and the carnage, Allen's keen eyes scanned the battlefield for potential adversaries. He saw glimpses of skill and determination in some players, even as they met their demise. These were the individuals he marked in his mind, the ones who showed a glimmer of promise amidst the sea of mediocrity.
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