My Wives are Beautiful Demons

Vergil stood there, inches away from Viviane, still bent slightly, his eyes fixed on hers. His playful tone from moments before had evaporated like mist dissipated in the wind, replaced by something denser—the gravity of someone who knows that calm times always come to an end.

He straightened, arms crossed behind his back, and let the silence weigh on him for a few seconds before speaking, cold and direct:

"Viviane. What can you tell me about the Witch Queen?"

The temperature in the room seemed to drop. Iridia and Zex, who were still hovering discreetly in the corners, stopped, as if the name had the power to seal their feet to the ground.

Viviane, however, did not move. Nor did she blink. She simply raised her eyes slowly to him, as if she had already expected that question—or feared when it would finally come.

Her eyes analyzed every feature of Vergil's face. The shape of his mouth, the way his eyes didn't blink, the rigidity of his shoulders. In less than a second, she saw enough.

Then, without flourishes, without embellishments, without the usual theatrics:

"Is that bitch after you?"

The silence that followed was so absolute that even the distant sound of leaves hitting the windows seemed to stop. Iridia put her hand to her mouth. Zex's eyes widened, as if he had just heard blasphemy.

But Vergil… Vergil just stared at her. Without looking away. Without frowning. Without confirming. But also… without denying.

Viviane sighed deeply and let her body fall back against the back of the chair, as if an old tension had once again taken its place between her bones.

"Shit…" Viviane muttered, staring at the ceiling as if searching for answers in the shadows of the ceiling. "I knew she'd start moving again sooner or later. But behind you? That's more than worrying… it's a damn war sentence." Her eyes narrowed back at him. "It was Morgana, wasn't it?"

Vergil just nodded, his expression grim.

"From what she said, it seems the Queen is interested in me… but I get the impression that her real focus is Alice."

Viviane frowned thoughtfully.

"Hm…" She leaned back in her chair, her elbows resting on her knees, her face more serious than usual.

"It's quite possible. In fact… it makes sense. Although, to be honest, I'm not even sure if Alice really exists. A Demon Witch? It seems like too much of a legend even for me. She must want to come and find out how you did it." She looked him in the eye, her voice carrying a quiet gravity.

"But if that's true… then we're dealing with something completely off the scale. The Witch Queen doesn't move on a whim. She moves on destiny. And if she thinks it's necessary… then perhaps the most dangerous thing isn't the Queen herself. Perhaps it's more her eccentricity."

Katharina emerged from the magic circle with a burst of arcane energy, her bare feet hitting the floor urgently. Her silver hair was disheveled, her face sweaty, as if she'd been running through a field of storms.

She barely bothered to wipe away the traces of the ritual that still shimmered around her. The magical presence she left behind was suffocating—thick, sharp, as if the walls had been coated in layers of pure ether.

Her eyes darted around the room.

Zex and Iridia straightened like soldiers under command, pure instinct. Katharina's gaze pierced them like a bolt of lightning.

Then she slowly turned, her breath still ragged, to Viviane and Vergil.

The sentence came out as a sentence: "That magical whore has arrived."

A piercing silence filled the room.

Viviane blinked. Vergil slowly raised his chin, his eyes sharpening like blades.

"Are you sure?" Viviane asked, her voice low, controlled, but each word seemed cut with a knife.

"Absolutely certain," Katharina replied, wiping the sweat from her temple with her sleeve. "She invaded the dimensional space of the Underworld."

Vergil took a step forward. His voice was controlled, but there was something icy behind the calm.

"Did she come alone?"

"For now… it seems so. But if she set foot on this plane, it wasn't to talk." Katharina paused, her eyes narrowed, as if filtering invisible visions around her. "Reality is warping around her. Small cracks in the veil. As if her very presence disturbed the fabric of the world. She's elegant, yes, of course… in the sadistic and theatrical way that only an ancient witch could."

Zex and Iridia looked at each other in silence, a silent terror written on their faces.

Viviane gritted her teeth. "She's showing off…"

"Let's go…" Katharina finished, already heading towards the magic circle that Vergil had just drawn. "Preventing those two from getting there first would be… wonderful, to say the least."

Vergil remained silent for a moment. His gaze fixed on the void seemed to see beyond the physical plane — as if he already anticipated the exact point where the veil between the worlds would begin to tear.

With a precise movement, he traced a magic circle in the air. Ancient symbols spun around him with the fluidity of a celestial clock, and a luminous fissure opened with a low hum.

"Let's go," he said, without turning his face. Then he turned to Viviane, and with an unexpected gesture, he lightly slapped her on the back.

"Ouch!" Viviane jumped a little, her eyes wide, surprised more by the gesture than by its strength.

Vergil gave a half smile — that typical, almost imperceptible one that always left others wondering whether he was being serious or joking.

"Hurry up... or I'll tie you up again."

Viviane blinked slowly, blushing slightly, but with a defiant glint in her eyes. "Promises, promises..." she whispered, before taking the first step into the circle.

Katharina rolled her eyes, snorting lightly. "If you two stop flirting, the Queen is still out there. And in case you forgot… she's a bitch with the power to reshape reality with a snap of her fingers."

"Then we better hurry up…" Vergil muttered, and with one last firm look at the hall behind him, he stepped through the magical portal, followed by the two women.

The beam of light from the magic circle vanished with a sharp snap, and the world around them changed in the blink of an eye. The air there was denser, charged with arcane energy—and the silence that enveloped Agares Mansion had the kind of stillness that precedes a storm.

Vergil was the first to open his eyes.

And he was faced with the problem.

Right in front of him, a few steps away, was Morgana. Arms crossed over his chest, eyes blazing with barely contained rage—but it wasn't her that was causing the real weight in the room.

To the witch's right, almost like a living shadow, stood a woman who looked like she had stepped out of a forbidden fairy tale.

She was at least seven feet tall. Her black hair cascaded down to her waist—long, straight, and dark as the abyss, swaying slightly with a presence that seemed to distort the air around her. Her skin was pale as marble in the moonlight, and her eyes… oh, her eyes. Red. Deep. They glowed like contained embers, carrying centuries of desire, pain, and power.

But what caught the eye most was her body.

Voluptuous was a kind word. This woman was a sinful sight. The kind of shape that made priests kneel and assassins hesitate. Her perfectly contoured curves, her wide hips, her narrow waist, her full bust—encased in a dark gown that hid absolutely nothing, only teased her even more. Every step she took felt like an invitation to perdition.

Viviane held her breath at the sight of her, and Katharina took an involuntary step back.

Morgana arched an eyebrow, clearly irritated.

"We've been waiting," she said, her voice cold and sharp as an ice dagger.

The woman beside her tilted her head slightly, her lips curving into a slow, sensual, dangerous smile.

"So…" she said, and her voice had the sound of sin whispered on velvet, "This is the man you're willing to break the rules for, Morgana?"

Vergil kept his gaze steady, but his mind was already working at full speed.

He didn't need anyone to say her name.

He already knew.

He felt the same sensation he had when he met Sapphire…

The same anxiety and feeling of seeing the apex of the world…

'Holy shit, she has more than a thousand times my energy.'