My Wives are Beautiful Demons

Naturally, the big day was approaching, yet much remained to be done before something of such magnitude could happen.

"I see," Vergil said, looking at the golden scroll rolled out before him. It looked genuinely important, despite who was standing in front of him…

"Why is this here?" Vergil questioned the only other person in the room, where he sat—his wife's mother, of course…

"Unfortunately, I was put in charge of the contracts. After all, I have allied witches by my side who can handle this faster than hiring one through the app," Raphaeline replied, looking at him with no trace of worry. "This golden paper is a contract crafted by the witches under my command, a guarantee for us to proceed with this event," she continued.

"Yes, I figured as much, though I'm not thrilled to be here looking at you," Vergil said. "The Master taught me a few things while we fought. I know the basics about these contracts. Though she did tell me not to trust 'Witch Bitches.'"

"Witches' magical contracts are divided into various levels according to the paper's color. White paper represents the simplest contracts, made by an inexperienced witch, which can also be broken by other inexperienced witches," Raphaeline said, crossing her legs and watching him intently.

"Gold paper contracts are exclusive, and can only be created or broken by experienced witches... There's also black paper, a contract created by the Witch Queen, and like other contracts, only the queen can break it." She almost laughed. "It's a pity you won't live long enough to see one like that, but it's good to know you're aware of something beyond punching things," she remarked with a shrug.

"I love how you speak so superiorly, but as far as I know, you're terrified because you don't know what's going to happen if I don't win, and you lose your precious chance to get the so-called prized Blade you want." Vergil said in a tone completely indifferent to respect. He didn't care about strength or hierarchy—who stood before him was nothing more than a traitor who'd sell her own daughter to get a damn SWORD!

Raphaeline kept her serene expression, though the glint in her eyes suggested that Vergil's words had hit hard. Though she tried to convey calm, the mask seemed ready to crack.

"What you don't understand, boy," she said, with an almost sinister calm, "is that certain sacrifices are inevitable when you're aiming for something truly grand. This isn't just any sword. It's a weapon containing a power you couldn't possibly imagine, and only those willing to pay the price can even dream of wielding it." Her gaze was sharp, full of calculated malice. "And you know well that this sword is a prize that can only be won with blood." .net

"Shut up and cut the nonsense," Vergil retorted with a cold laugh of disbelief. "It's interesting that you talk of sacrifice when the only thing you're willing to lose is your own daughter's life." He rested his arms on the table, leaning forward to close the distance between them and letting his hostility show clearly.

"And make no mistake," he continued in a low voice, almost a whisper, "Our bet is very much alive." He smirked.

Raphaeline watched Vergil with a look of barely contained irritation as he leaned forward, his eyes sparking and his voice sharp as blades. She held her gaze on him, but before she could respond, the door opened softly, and Viviane entered, breaking the oppressive tension that filled the room.

"Thank you, Viviane," Vergil said, accepting the tea with a light smile that contrasted with his earlier coldness. He leaned back in his chair and took a small sip, keeping his eyes on Raphaeline as he savored the drink.

"Now tell me what's in the contract, and be gone." he said. Raphaeline seemed about to respond but restrained herself, keeping her firm posture. For a brief moment, her eyes gleamed, and her face returned to calm serenity.

"The contract ensures that everyone involved will receive their rewards after the battle. Ada Baal will be used as a currency of exchange; she will be the prize in the duel between Vergil and Magnus Phenex. To prevent situations where one of the demons uses Ada Baal against her will, this specific contract in my hands was crafted to record the entire contractual process and send it to the government agency overseeing Demonitarian Resources, thus preventing any act of enslavement or any implicit acts concerning her life," she said, like a robot reading a script.

"Demonitarian Resources? Like… human resources?" he asked, trying to make sense of what was going on.

"What? You think that just because we're demons we don't have a constitution? Even demons have laws to follow, you know? How do you think the Angels and Fallen Angels haven't come to war with us in all these years? We're decent people!" she said, as though he were accusing her of having done something… or…

"You... are you listening to yourself?" Vergil questioned, almost laughing at the expression she wore.

Raphaeline narrowed her eyes, keeping her composure firm but clearly irritated by Vergil's mockery.

"Yes, I am listening, and perhaps you should understand that the system we follow is what keeps us from being hunted—or hunting freely," she replied, attempting to maintain her calm, though impatience edged her voice. "We demons are not anarchic; we have a structure to maintain balance. Without it, chaos would drag us down along with the mortal world."

Vergil chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "So, now we're talking about 'demonic laws'? It feels like I've walked into a human courtroom," he said, dripping with sarcasm. "But honestly, do you think I care about this? Or better yet, does anyone here care?"

"You should," she replied sharply. "Because this contract, Vergil, has the power to ruin any of your plans if you disregard it. One slip, and the whole process is invalid. Ada doesn't become yours, and Magnus won't be defeated cleanly. Think about it."

Vergil remained silent for a moment, staring at Raphaeline with intensity, as though he was weighing every word. Viviane watched quietly by his side, observant of every detail. After a pause, he took one last sip of his tea, as if drawing the conversation to a close.

"So, in short, you basically want me to fight within the rules—like a good, obedient boy—just so I can get what I want without jeopardizing your precious legal safeguards. Right?" He smirked. "Interesting..."

"Fine, hand it over," Vergil said, grabbing the paper and scanning through the rules. Seconds later, he burst into laughter.

"Deaths are permitted," he read aloud, and continued laughing. "HAHAHAHAHA!" Vergil's laughter grew wild, reminiscent of Sapphire's, filling the room with a chilling echo.

Raphaeline froze, feeling a wave of dread as Vergil's laughter grew uncontrollable, his voice reverberating off the walls, while everything around them began to crack and shatter like fragile glass. The pressure radiating from him was overwhelming, and Raphaeline instinctively took a step back, alarmed and heart pounding.

"What… what kind of power is this?" she thought, her icy facade starting to crack as fear crept into her gaze. Every fracture around them seemed to draw closer, as if she were cornered by something far beyond her comprehension.

Then, in the blink of an eye, Vergil stopped laughing, leaning slightly forward with a deadly calm, his eyes glowing as he looked directly at her.

"I'll be fighting an immortal," he said, his voice low and lethal. "So, only my life is at stake?"

Raphaeline swallowed, feeling the brutal force emanating from him threaten to crush her. With effort, she regained her composure and responded, trying to sound steady:

"Well, looking at it that way..." She murmured, "No, that's fine," Vergil interrupted, giving her another confident look. "Since you all want it this way, I can kill him if I manage to, right? No one can interfere, correct?"

Raphaeline hesitated, but held her ground, Vergil's piercing gaze slicing through her like a blade.

"Correct," she answered firmly, though a slight tremor in her eyes betrayed her unease. "The contract is clear. The combat will be exclusively between you and Magnus Phenex. No one can interfere—it's a battle in absolute terms."

She straightened in her chair, trying to reclaim a fragment of the authority Vergil seemed to so easily dismantle. "And yes, if you… kill Magnus, the contract recognizes it as a legitimate victory. You will have fulfilled your part, and all benefits and agreements outlined will be duly enforced."

Vergil flashed a cold smile, satisfied with her confirmation. "Perfect," he said, leaning back, his confidence almost palpable in his voice. "I'll enjoy this fight more than I thought." He muttered, thinking of something Sapphire had mentioned to him just a few hours earlier.

"If the fight becomes too easy, just use him as a whetstone; it's not every day you get an opponent who regenerates infinitely," she had smiled, embracing him. "Just imagine everyone's reaction when they see you using him merely to test out techniques... it'll be priceless."

Vergil's grin widened as Sapphire's sly, daring suggestion echoed in his mind, now sounding like an irresistible challenge.

"'Use him as a whetstone'..." he murmured softly.

The thought of an immortal opponent, someone he could unleash on without restraint and watch regenerate only to start over again—it was perfect. He pictured Magnus, broken and reassembling, only to become his target once more.

"Then it's decided," he said as he signed the contract and set it down on the table. "See you later, mother-in-law," he added, walking out of the room, followed closely by Viviane, who had remained silent the entire time.