My Wives are Beautiful Demons-Chapter 694: Rest, and wait for the next stage.

Vergil raises his hand.

It’s not abrupt. It’s not aggressive. It’s just... definitive.

"Enough," he says, in a low, yet unquestionable tone.

Katharina, Ada, and Roxanne freeze for a split second before finally giving him space, still with expressions that mix excitement, pride, and that irritating insistence of someone who wants attention now.

Vergil runs a hand over his face, taking a deep breath, and then looks around the VIP room as if only now having noticed the relative silence of the place.

"Where is the rest?" he asks.

Katharina tilts her head, supporting her hands behind her body as she sits on the edge of the sofa.

"My mother left with yours," she replies naturally. "And with Neberius. Shortly before the tournament ended."

Vergil frowns slightly.

"...That explains a lot," he murmurs.

Ada leans against one of the glass columns, crossing her arms.

"Raphaeline went to the exclusive bar," she comments. "She said something about ’needing something strong enough to erase the vision of Loki smiling.’"

Roxanne shrugs.

"And Stella went to buy sweets."

Vergil closes his eyes for a second.

"...Of course she did."

He says nothing more. He simply walks to the wide sofa in the center of the room and lets himself fall onto it unceremoniously, his body sinking as if finally allowed to switch off. His coat opens, revealing clearer marks from the impacts, bruises beginning to slowly form.

He stretches his legs, crosses his arms over his chest, and stares at the luminous ceiling.

Silence.

Which lasts exactly three seconds.

Ada and Katharina approach almost in sync.

Ada sits on the side of the sofa, resting one knee on the upholstery. Katharina throws herself to the other side, lying sideways, her face resting on her hand, observing Vergil with almost clinical attention. "So," Ada begins. "What do you have in mind for the next phase?"

Vergil doesn’t move.

"I haven’t thought about it."

Katharina raises an eyebrow.

"You always think about it."

"Not always," he replies. "Sometimes I just execute."

Ada makes a disapproving sound.

"That’s not an answer."

Vergil opens one eye, looking at her.

"It’s the only one I have right now."

He sighs and closes his eyes again.

"I still have a contract to fulfill," he continues, his voice lower, less sharp. "The contract I made with Medusa only ends with the humiliation of Athena; there’s still a little left."

Katharina adjusts herself slightly, becoming more serious. "Is it something to worry about?"

"No," Vergil replies. "But I think things are going to get complicated now."

Ada frowns.

"And Athena?"

Vergil shrugs, a slow, tired movement.

"She probably managed to stabilize her body by now. Deities like her don’t break easily. They just... crack. The seal I put on was pretty shoddy, I learned on the spot how to trap her soul inside that mortal’s body. It’s a shame the time ran out."

Roxanne, who had been watching from a distance, crosses her arms.

"Then she’ll be back in the next phase."

"Yes," Vergil says, emotionlessly. "And it’ll be worse."

Katharina lets out a short sigh.

"Great."

Vergil remains silent for a few seconds. The atmosphere of the VIP room seems to absorb the weight of that moment, as if even the space respected the pause.

"For now," he says finally, "I just want to rest."

Ada tilts her head.

"Rest?"

Vergil opens his eyes and stares at the ceiling again.

"I fought without power. Without amplification. Without tricks," he enumerates. "Just body. Just technique. That exacts a different price."

Katharina observes his hands, his knuckles still slightly swollen.

"You’ll have to fight a lot more," she says.

He agrees with a slight nod.

"And against worse things."

Ada is silent for a moment.

"You seem... different," she comments. "Not exhausted. Just... focused."

Vergil lets out a short laugh.

"That’s strategic fatigue."

Katharina smiles slightly.

"Are you going to sleep?"

"Maybe," he replies. "Or pretend I am."

Ada leans back on the sofa, crossing her arms.

"If Loki shows up—"

"I’ll kill him," Vergil replies immediately.

Roxanne laughs softly.

Katharina closes her eyes for a moment, as if finally relaxing too.

Silence returns.

This time, it stays.

Vergil adjusts his position on the sofa, turning his face slightly to the side, his body finally yielding to the accumulated weight of the fights, the tension, the tournament.

"Wake me up," he murmurs, his voice now more distant, "if something really important happens."

Ada exchanges a look with Katharina.

"He’s really going to sleep," Ada comments.

Katharina smiles.

"Leave him. He deserves it."

Roxanne moved a little closer, sitting on the arm of the sofa.

The VIP room remained quiet.

For now.

In another wing of the coliseum, far from the hubbub of Vergil’s VIP room, there was a different kind of silence.

Cleaner. More attentive.

The room was smaller, with translucent walls that opened onto a wide arcane window facing directly onto the arena. The runes etched into the glass still pulsed softly, reflecting the echoes of recent battles like memories that refused to completely fade.

Alice sat on a small enchanted stone stool, her feet dangling slightly above the ground. Her hands rested in her lap, her fingers interlaced in a way that was too relaxed for someone who had participated in a tournament of that level.

She watched the arena.

Not with anxiety.

Nor with pride.

But with silent curiosity.

Her eyes followed the spots where the terrain had been destroyed before the restoration, as if she could see the invisible scars left by the combat. Small strands of mana still danced around her hair, reacting almost unconsciously to the emotions she didn’t outwardly display.

The door behind her opened quietly.

Seris entered.

The sound of her footsteps was firm, measured. Unlike Alice’s casual posture, Seris carried the weight of someone who observed the world with constant vigilance, as if always expecting something to go wrong.

She stopped a few meters away.

"You fought well," Seris said bluntly.

Alice tilted her head slightly, a small smile appearing on her lips.

"Thank you."

Seris crossed her arms, looking at the arena before returning her gaze to Alice.

"But you’re using too much magic."

Alice’s smile widened slightly, almost amused.

"Ah... that."

She leans forward, resting her elbows on her thighs.

"It’s hard to control," she admits, without any embarrassment. "Every time I use more mana... I go into a trance."

Seris frowns.

"Trance."

Alice nods.

"Yes. It’s like the world becomes simpler. Quieter." She lightly touches her temple. "Sometimes I almost forget what I should be doing."

Seris takes another step closer.

"That’s not normal."

"I know," Alice replies, too calm for the subject. "But it’s not bad."

Seris sighs, running a hand over her face.

"It’s getting worrying."

Alice looks up at her, curious, but still smiling.

"Worrying how?"

Seris is silent for a moment, choosing her words carefully.

"Your body," she begins, "is similar to Vergil’s."

Alice tilts her head.

"Similar?"

"In structure," Seris clarifies. "Not in origin."

She turns completely to Alice now.

"Vergil’s body is absolute. Pure demonic energy, integrated into every cell, every fiber. He doesn’t channel power. He is power."

Alice listens with genuine attention.

"And me?"

Seris takes a deep breath.

"Your body is the equivalent of that... for mana."

Alice’s smile falters for a microsecond.

"Blessed," Seris continues, "recognized by all existing mana. It responds to you instinctively. Not because you control it... but because it recognizes you."

Alice falls silent.

The strands of mana around her glow a little brighter, as if reacting to the conversation.

"A body like this," Seris says seriously, "can get out of control."

She looks Alice directly in the eye.

"If you lose focus, if your emotions become misaligned, if this trance deepens too much... you can cease to be the center. The mana takes over."

Alice observes her own hands for a few seconds.

Then, she smiles.

A calm smile. Convinced.

"That will never happen."

Seris raises an eyebrow.

"You seem very sure of that."

Alice rises from the stool, walking to the arcane window. The mana around her automatically rearranges itself, forming subtle, almost artistic patterns.

"I know what I am," she says, looking at the arena. "And I know what I can become."

She turns her face to the side, still smiling.

"I’m getting stronger," she admits. "Much stronger than I should be at this point."

Seris remains silent.

"But I’m not foolish," Alice adds. "I know this comes at a cost."

She closes her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. The mana around her calms, as if obeying a silent command.

"My father masters what he is because he accepts his own nature," Alice continues. "I’m learning to do the same. I don’t want to worry my father about this, so avoid talking about it... let’s leave him relaxed. I don’t want Dad to worry about me."

Seris watches intently.

"What if one day you lose control?"

Alice opens her eyes.

Her gaze is clear. Firm.

"I’ve already done many things..." she says, "many preparations in case something goes wrong..." She looked at her hand, "But I already know that in the future none of this will happen." she commented with a smile.