Villain Ch 1687. Sacrificial Lamb
But it didn't last long.
Not because they pushed. Not because they pried. But because the dungeon—this divine-bloodstained monument to broken vows and weaponized faith—wasn't done with them yet.
Not even close.
It started with a low hum.
Then the flicker of runes.
And then—
The enemies came again.
Not boss-level constructs. Not minibosses with tragic backstories.
Just mobs.
Waves of them.
Shrinebound zealots. Bridecatcher drones. Masked penitents with curved blades and desperate speed. They didn't speak this time. No chants. No monologues. Just the raw code of pursuit. Just numbers trying to overwrite resistance.
Allen moved without a word.
His blade sang before his mouth did.
