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Chapter 172 The Top Of The Mountain Is Always The Least Crowded
Chapter 172 The Top Of The Mountain Is Always The Least Crowded
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Villain Ch 172. The Top of The Mountain is Always The Least Crowded
"Are you out of your mind?" Allen's voice dripped with incredulity. He couldn't fathom why Greg was convulsing with maniacal laughter, seemingly finding humor in the situation.
"I am! Ha ha ha ha! It's hilarious, don't you see?" Greg retorted, his tone laced with mockery.
A furrow formed on Allen's brow as he struggled to make sense of Greg's bizarre behavior. "What are you talking about?" he demanded, his voice tinged with frustration.
Greg's laughter subsided, replaced by a smirk that oozed with malice. His true intentions began to surface, revealing a web of calculated cruelty. "Your skills. They're extraordinary. You can defeat anyone in a duel, but that very same prowess pushes others away," Greg taunted, his words stinging with venom. "You're all alone in this game, devoid of guilds or companions. Everyone fears being overshadowed by your brilliance."
"You will be alone forever, Allen," he hissed with hatred.
From the start, Greg's goal was to destroy Allen's morale, pushing him out of the game, making him quit by himself. This was the same as how he and Darren had destroyed him two years ago. And that proved successful, judging from how Allen disappeared from the gaming world for two years.
Greg's wicked smile faltered for a moment, caught off guard by Allen's unexpected response. He had anticipated a shattered spirit, a defeated Allen who would crumble under the weight of his words. But instead, he was met with a defiant gaze and an unyielding resolve.
The corners of Allen's lips curled into a wicked smirk, mirroring Greg's own expression. His voice dripped with icy confidence as he countered, "Alone? I don't mind it. The top of the mountain is always the least crowded, after all." His words sliced through the air, devoid of bitterness or self-pity.
Greg's laughter echoed through the cave, bouncing off the walls. It was a bitter, mocking sound that grated on Allen's ears. He couldn't help but feel a pang of annoyance at Greg's taunting remarks.
"Top?" Greg sneered, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You think you can reach the top, Allen? Not in this game. Not without a strong guild, without comrades to rely on. Do you honestly believe you can defeat the Devil Emperor alone?"
Allen's eyes narrowed, his lips curling into a wry smile. He understood Greg's intentions now. It wasn't just about breaking his spirit or belittling his achievements.
"Ah, I see..." Allen responded, his voice casual and nonchalant. He refused to let Greg's words shake him. "So that's your problem, huh?"
Greg's expression faltered, confusion mingling with his anger. He had expected Allen to be rattled, to doubt himself in the face of such a challenge. But instead, Allen's response seemed almost dismissive, as if he had already figured out the game Greg was playing.
With a sudden burst of energy, Allen lunged forward, his body moving with incredible agility. In one swift motion, he extended his leg and delivered a powerful kick to Greg's chest, sending him crashing to the ground. The impact jarred Greg, causing him to gasp for breath as the wind was knocked out of him.
Seizing the opportunity, Allen wasted no time. He leapt onto Greg's fallen form, straddling him with fierce determination. Gripping his daggers tightly in his hands, he raised them high above his head, ready to strike. His eyes gleamed with a cold, calculating intensity as he took aim at Greg's vulnerable face.
In a split second, the blades descended, finding their mark with unerring accuracy. The sound of metal meeting flesh echoed through the cave as Allen's daggers pierced Greg's eye sockets, sealing his fate. A guttural scream tore from Greg's lips, a mix of pain, shock, and terror, but it was quickly silenced as his life force faded away.
"Don't worry about that. You should ask yourself how you can reach the top," Allen said to Greg in a challenging tone.
Soon, an announcement appeared in front of Allen.
[Congratulations! You won the duel!]
[You have managed to kill a player.]
[Kill players 10/10]
Immediately, the vibrant world of the game flickered and distorted as if reality itself were being rewritten. The loading screen materialized before Allen's eyes.
He watched as the progress bar filled up. Once the loading screen disappeared, he found himself at the entrance to the Cursed Crypts. Shadows danced across the towering gate, hinting at the untold secrets that lay within.
Allen fell silent, the weight of his recent actions settling upon him. The echoes of his former team's defeat reverberated in his mind. Blood stained his daggers, a vivid reminder of the path he had chosen. A mixture of emotions swirled within him, mingling with the exhilaration of victory and the bitter taste of the past betrayal.
But amidst the aftermath, a sly grin tugged at the corners of Allan's lips. It was an ironic twist, a contradiction that brought amusement to his turbulent thoughts.
"I won't be able to go up to the top he said…" he muttered. The notion that he, the one deemed incapable of reaching the top, had just triumphed over his former allies was not lost on him. His laughter bubbled forth, starting as a low chuckle that gradually escalated into a maniacal outburst.
With each peal of laughter, Allen canceled his Disguise skill. He no longer concealed his true identity, casting aside the facade of the dual dagger user. In a swirl of dark energy, his appearance transformed, taking on the sinister visage of the devil emperor. His eyes blazed with an otherworldly fire, a symbol of his ascent to the pinnacle of power. The horns were on top of his head and his luxurious robe covered his body.
Addressing the fallen Greg, he spoke in a sarcastic tone laced with satisfaction. "How can you say that I can't reach the top when I'm already standing here?" he asked rhetorically, his voice laced with self-assured confidence that bordered on arrogance. The words dripped with irony.