My Wives are Beautiful Demons-Chapter 693: Stay tuned for the second phase!
The silence that follows is heavy.
Not the respectful silence of an arena awaiting applause, but that uncomfortable, almost awkward silence that arises when something too serious has just happened... and been interrupted by a clown.
Vergil stares at Loki... Doesn’t blink... Doesn’t move.
The tension in his body isn’t explosive, it’s concentrated, like a blade stuck in the middle of a slingshot.
"You," Vergil says, low, each syllable laden with contempt, "took me away from the only interesting thing that happened in this tournament."
Loki tilts his head to the side, his eyes wide, as if genuinely confused.
"Oh, come on," he replies, flashing a crooked smile. "Interesting? You were basically torturing a goddess in the middle of the forest. I’d say that’s gone beyond acceptable entertainment."
Vergil takes a step forward.
The stands creak.
Some entities lean back instinctively. "I was going to kill her."
Loki places his hand on his chest, theatrically. "Of course you were! And that’s exactly the problem." He sighs exaggeratedly. "Vergil, my dear, this is a tournament. Not a therapeutic personal massacre."
Shura crosses his arms, observing the exchange with an amused smile, but his eyes are alert.
Angelo remains motionless, behind Vergil, his sensors tracking Loki’s every microexpression, as if calculating how many variables would be needed to pierce him through.
Athena, a few meters behind, tries to stay upright.
She is pale.
Not physically.
Conceptually.
The energy around her pulses erratically, like a wounded heart that can’t keep up the rhythm. She looks at Vergil, then at Shura, then at Angelo... and finally at Loki.
And you understand... She was never the center of attention... She was a test...
Vergil cracks his neck slowly.
"You always do that," he says. "You interrupt when it gets too ugly for you to explain later."
Loki raises his eyebrows.
"Ugly? No, no. Ugly would be you walking past Athena with that dead stare while half the audience starts wondering if the tournament will end due to a lack of competitors." He takes two steps to the side, opening his arms.
"Speaking of which!" Loki spins on his heels and raises his voice, effortlessly amplified throughout the arena. "ATTENTION, ATTENTION! FIRST PHASE SUCCESSFULLY COMPLETED!"
Some murmurs rise from the stands.
Some laughter.
Some protests.
"Of the countless initial participants," Loki continues, overly excited, "only TWENTY finalists remain!"
Vergil rolls his eyes. "Twenty," he murmurs, turning his face slightly. "Great. A bunch of idiotic NPCs who don’t matter."
Shura lets out a short laugh.
"You’re a sweetheart at social events," he comments.
Loki pretends not to hear.
"Due to the emotional intensity, excessive destruction of scenery, and recurring assassination attempts outside of ideal dramatic timing..." He looks directly at Vergil as he says this. "...the tournament now enters an OFFICIAL ONE-HOUR PAUSE!"
A golden glow sweeps across the coliseum.
Portals begin to open around the arena, leading the surviving combatants to rest, containment, or preparation areas.
Vergil clenches his fists.
"One hour," he repeats, disdainfully. "Great. Gives me enough time to decide which of you two I’ll kill first."
He glances at Athena.
She doesn’t hold it.
She looks away.
Then, his gaze falls to Angelo.
The automaton remains motionless.
But something at its core pulses differently.
Registering.
Storing.
"You too," Vergil adds dryly. "Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you."
Angelo tilts his head slightly. "The threat has been registered," he replies. "Probability of future confrontation: high."
Vergil snorts. "Great."
Loki claps his hands, satisfied... "See? Everyone’s excited! Personal growth, new rivalries, fresh traumas..."
Vergil turns his back.
Without ceremony.
Without farewell.
"Go fuck yourself again," he mutters, starting to walk towards one of the portals.
Shura follows him, putting his hands behind his head. "So," he says casually. "After the break... Athena? Angelo? Or me?"
Vergil doesn’t look back.
"It depends on who gets in my way."
They cross the portal.
The light closes behind them.
Loki watches for a moment longer than usual.
His smile fades... Just a little.
He looks at Athena, still trying to recover his shattered dignity... Then at Angelo... Then at the void where Vergil disappeared.
"Ah..." Loki murmurs to himself, wiping away a fake tear that didn’t even fall. "This second phase is going to be hell."
The corridor between the portals is too silent.
There’s no wind. No echo. Just that unsettling feeling of doubled space, as if the world were holding its breath.
Vergil walks with his hands in his pockets, his torn coat still hanging from his shoulders, patches of dried mud and impact marks scattered across his body. He doesn’t look tired... but something inside him is slowly discharging, like an engine that has finally left the red zone.
Shura follows for a few steps, still with that overly relaxed smile for someone who just almost beat up an Olympian goddess.
"So," Shura says, breaking the silence. "That was fun."
Vergil lets out a short sound through his nose. Something between a laugh and a sigh.
"It was," he admits. "Until that clown showed up."
Shura laughs for real now. "Yeah. Loki has a special talent for ruining climaxes."
They stop before two different portals. One pulsates with golden and crimson hues. The other, more stable one, emits a bluish light, almost too calm for that tournament.
Vergil points with his chin towards Shura’s portal.
"Take care not to die," he says, without irony.
Shura raises an eyebrow.
"Is that concern?"
"No," Vergil replies immediately. "It’s logistics. If you die, I’ll have to deal with the rest alone."
Shura laughs, crossing his arms.
"Fair enough." He takes a step back, already being pulled by the light of the portal. "In the next phase... try not to break the entire scenery before I arrive."
Vergil finally looks at him.
A half-smile appears. "I promise nothing."
Shura nods one last time and disappears, dissolved in the light.
The corridor is empty.
Vergil takes a deep breath.
Then he turns to the other portal.
He goes through.
The transition isn’t violent.
It’s abrupt. A blink.
And the world changes completely.
The air is warm. Perfumed. Alive.
Vergil appears in the center of a large, circular room with ethereal glass walls that reveal an impossible view: fragments of realities floating like distant islands. The floor is soft beneath his feet, made of some divine material that absorbs impact and fatigue. Luxurious sofas, tables with drinks that change shape on their own, arcane symbols glowing softly on the ceiling.
VIP room.
He barely has time to process.
Because something hits him.
It’s not a blow.
It’s three bodies.
"DARLING!!"
"VERGIL!"
"YOU WERE INSANE!"
The impact makes him take two steps back.
Katharina practically throws herself at him first, wrapping her arms around his neck, laughing too loudly, her eyes shining as if she had just witnessed the greatest spectacle in existence. Ada comes right after, jumping and grabbing his arm, speaking too fast, her words tumbling over each other, pointing at him like he was a living relic. Roxanne closes in, hugging him tightly around the waist, enough to elicit an involuntary grunt.
"WHAT WAS THAT?!" Katharina screams. "YOU BROKE THE AEGIS! THAT WAS THE AEGIS!"
"I thought she was going to blow up the planet!" Ada snaps. "Seriously, I was ready to bet you’d get through her in the end—"
"Did you see her face when you called her weak?!" Roxanne adds, laughing almost breathlessly. "My God, that was cruel!"
Vergil tries to breathe.
He fails.
"Hey—" he tries to say, but Katharina squeezes tighter.
"You disappeared into the middle of the forest and suddenly you were there, walking through the storm like it was nothing!"
"And the punches?!" Ada continues. "You weren’t even using any power!"
"He was just playing around," Roxanne says, too proudly. "It’s obvious."
Vergil finally manages to catch his breath.
"You... are going to... kill me..." he says, gasping.
Katharina pulls back slightly, just to look him up and down.
Her smile fades a little.
"You’re hurt."
Vergil shrugs.
"Just the usual."
Ada crosses her arms, narrowing her eyes.
"Normal for you is still worrying."
Roxanne releases the hug, but keeps her hand on him, as if she needs to make sure he’s still there.
"You left that Athena alive," she comments, in a more serious tone.
Vergil closes his eyes for a moment.
"For now."
Katharina sighs, shaking her head.
"You always say that."
He steps back, finally gaining enough space to stretch his neck and shoulders. His body cracks slightly, as if complaining now that the immediate danger has passed.
Vergil walks to one of the tables and grabs a drink without even looking at the contents. He takes a long sip.
Only then does he let out another sigh.
"She lost control," he says, more quietly. "It wasn’t worth ending there."
Ada approaches, leaning on the table.
"And that android?" she asks. "Angelo."
Vergil opens his eyes.
His gaze hardens.
"That’s the problem."
Roxanne crosses her arms.
"Then the tournament is going to get even worse."
Vergil gives a tired half-smile.
"Definitely."
Katharina sits on the sofa, pulling Vergil by the wrist so he sits down too. He doesn’t resist.
She looks at him, calmer now.
"Even so," she says. "You were amazing."
Ada nods.
"Ridiculously amazing."
Roxanne smiles.
"As always."
Vergil leans his head back, closing his eyes for a second.
The distant noise of the arena doesn’t reach him.
There are no gods shouting.
There is no storm.
Just that strange moment of pause.
"Sometimes," he murmurs. "After that... it’s going to get ugly."
Katharina leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees.
"Then rest," she says. "Because when you go back there..."
Ada finishes.
"...everyone will be scared."
Roxanne concludes, with a slow smile.
"...and you’re going to finish what you started."
Vergil opens his eyes. A cold glint passes through them. "Yes," he says. "I will."
Vergil then looked around, "And where are the others?"
"W-well..." Katharina stammered.
