Villain MMORPG: Almighty Devil Emperor and His Seven Demonic Wives - Chapter 2001

Capítulo 2001: Chewing Through Nerves

Villain Ch 2001. Chewing Through Nerves

“I swear to god,” Mila said, collapsing into the nearest pillow. “I thought he was too good in bed. Now I know why. He’s literally the game’s final raid mechanic.”

Allen leaned back, gaze returning to the arena.

Azura’s match was ending.

Victory.

Of course.

She stood with one boot on the shattered arena platform, breathing steady. Calm. The lights around her faded. Her guild name rose on the screen in silver letters.

Ironclad wins.

Allen exhaled.

Zoe poked his thigh. “You’re enjoying this.”

He didn’t deny it.

Because this?

This wasn’t just victory.

It was anticipation.

Elio was still meditating.

Azura was winning.

The devs were quiet. The crowd didn’t know what was coming.

But Allen did.

And when the curtain dropped?

They’d see.

All of them would see.

Meanwhile, a few rows beneath all that anticipation and infernal plotting, the Order of Valiance team sat in their reserved player zone. Not the flashy VIP suite, not the luxury box with champagne and velvet couches, but the real deal. Branded chairs, team-labeled monitors, and just enough backstage lighting to remind them they were being watched from all angles.

And Elio?

His eyes closed.

Breath steady.

Arms relaxed on his thighs, legs crossed beneath him. His posture didn’t waver. Even with the roar of the crowd above. Even with the announcer’s voice booming through the speakers like a carnival preacher possessed.

Even with the camera feed catching him in full 4K more than once.

Yeah.

The dude was meditating. In public. In his tournament esports jacket.

Jacob leaned closer to Gil, elbowing him gently.

“Here I was thinking the weird one in this team was Sachi,” he whispered. “But nope. Plot twist. It’s Elio. He’s the real weirdo. Like… dude, he’s straight-up meditating right now. This place smells like fried cheese sticks and gamer sweat, and that guy’s doing deep-breathing exercises.”

Gil didn’t look away from the central screen, but his mouth twitched. “Don’t be a d*ck.”

Jacob grinned. “I’m not being a d*ck. I’m being observant. And come on. You know the camera guy’s loving this. That’s gonna be one hell of a montage. Like: ‘Paladin of Peace, Mac the Meditator prepares for war.’ With dramatic slow zooms and monk chanting in the background.”

Gil finally turned to glance at Elio. Then back to Jacob. “I guess he’s tense.”

“You guess?” Jacob tilted his head. “The guy’s channeling his inner monk while the rest of us are chewing through nerves like popcorn.”

“I mean, come on,” Gil said, adjusting his gloves. “He’s been hyped about this for weeks. He’s got the whole ‘vengeance against a mystery man’ energy going on. Probably the only thing keeping him from screaming is whatever breathing technique he picked up on YuTube.”

Jacob snorted. “Probably called ‘Zen and the Art of Rage Suppression.'”

From across them, Eren was fidgeting with his water bottle. He didn’t even look up. “Let him do his thing. I wish I could turn my brain off like that. Mine’s screaming like a toddler in Wolmart right now.”

“I am literally vibrating,” Jacob muttered. “From caffeine or fear, I don’t know.”

“Both,” Sachi said calmly, not even looking up from her tablet. She was reviewing match stats like she was reading a bedtime story. Still resting b*tch face. Still not even a hint of worry.

Jacob fake-shivered. “Terrifying.”

“You love it,” Eren said.

“Only a little.”

Sachi raised her hand without looking and handed Jacob a piece of candied ginger. Again.

He blinked. “…Thank you.”

“You need it.”

“I do need it,” he mumbled, popping it into his mouth.

Gil leaned back, arms crossed, eyes flicking between the screen and Elio again.

“Look,” he said. “He’s not being dramatic. He’s just… focused.”

Jacob frowned. “You think he’s gonna break if we lose?”

Gil hesitated.

Then said quietly, “I think he can’t. Not this time.”

The announcement system cracked through the tension like thunder snapping the air.

“Next match! Celestial Vanguard… versus Crimson Mira!”

The screen flashed. The arena lit up again.

Their guild crests exploded onto the monitors. Celestial Vanguard’s clean white and gold. Crimson Mira’s blood-red phoenix sigil layered in burning flames. The crowd roared at the sound of Red’s guild being called.

Elio didn’t move.

Not a twitch.

He was deep in it now.

And inside that stillness, that silence, that breathless zone, he wasn’t hearing any of them. Not Gil. Not Jacob. Not even the thunder of the announcer.

He was elsewhere.

Deeper.

Inside his chest, the world churned like ash and oil.

Because Elio wasn’t meditating to look dramatic. He wasn’t trying to impress the fans or make some philosophical statement. He didn’t give a shit about how the cameras framed him.

He was drowning out the noise.

Because inside his head?

There were too many voices.

Too many moments still alive like ghosts in the blood.

The way the Devil Emperor’s voice had sounded in-game… that perfect arrogance, that power that felt real. The thousands of matches played to numb the ache. The weeks of training, of building up this team, of wondering if he could climb high enough to matter again.

He had to win.

Because if he didn’t?

He’d never get the chance to force the truth out of him.

To look Allen in the eyes.

And if he lost?

There’d be no answer.

Just silence.

Just shame.

So Elio breathed.

In.

Out.

Until everything else fell away.

Until the pressure felt like wind at his back, not weight on his shoulders.

Until there was nothing left in the world but his own heartbeat.

The match on screen had already begun.

Red lunged forward, his sword glowing with holy light. Mastercraft followed with explosive forge-hammer swings that cracked the digital ground. Alex flanked quietly, support spells weaving between his fingers like golden thread.

Crimson Mira’s team was strong. Organized. But Celestial Vanguard was sharper.

Smarter.

There was no wasted energy. No panic. Red didn’t even blink as his opponent blinked behind him. Just pivoted. Blocked. Countered. Killed.

It was clean.

Too clean.

Ten minutes flew by in blood and light.

Until finally…

“Victory! Celestial Vanguard advances!”

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