My Wives are Beautiful Demons-Chapter 700: Scathach and his Disciple.

"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT!!!" Loki surged forth screaming from the fifth circle of hell where he had stopped, marching with his face covered in blood: "DAMN YOU, LOKI, I WILL—"

"Shut up," said Scáthach, starting to leave the arena. "If you touch him, I’ll kill you." She continued to leave. "Just get this charade started."

Loki swallowed hard: "Damn it, being the god of mischief sucks. I wish I were a God of War so I’d have the strength to send this bitch packing—" He didn’t even finish the sentence before a divine spear pierced him, not to kill him, but merely to remind him.

The spear pierced Loki.

The tip emerged from his back with enough force to explode the inside of the divine body. Intestines were hurled out like grotesque fragments of something that should never be seen.

Divine blood spurted through the air, staining the arena floor and the first rows of the stands with an impossible red.

Loki lay there... Impaled.

His body frozen in place, his eyes wide, his mouth open in a silence that screamed louder than any word.

The spear embedded in him pulsed.

Gae Bolg... The spear that Scathach created with his own hands. The cursed spear.

The entire Colosseum fell silent... No applause... No shouts... No audible breaths.

"You weaklings..." The voice came from beside Scathach, too casual for the scene of carnage. "...you need to learn to stop talking so much when you can’t sustain your own strength."

The man took a step forward.

He was about five feet seven inches tall, with a defined body, a posture too relaxed for someone surrounded by gods. His hair was messy, unruly, as if it had never known a comb. His clothes were wrinkled, worn, dirty from battles that had never been properly cleaned.

And yet...

He smiled.

A wide, crooked smile, too happy for someone standing before an impaled god. It wasn’t cruelty. It was enthusiasm. The smile of someone who truly loves violence when it is just.

Cú Chulainn walked towards Loki.

Without haste.

Without respect.

With a single brutal movement, he grasped the shaft of the Gae Bolg and ripped the spear from Loki’s body.

The sound was disgusting.

Blood and divine flesh spurted out with a wet crack. Loki fell to his knees, his body trying to regenerate even as the shock still held him in that eternal second of pain.

Cú Chulainn didn’t even look at him.

He turned directly to Scathach.

"My dear mistress..." he said, tilting his head slightly—a gesture that was respect mixed with possessiveness. "Why did you let a mere Demon King flirt with you?"

Veins pulsed on his forehead. Not from physical exertion. From pure irritation. Contained by discipline, but still visible.

Scathach looked at him.

From head to toe.

She was over six feet tall. Four arms crossed. An overwhelming presence. The difference between them made Cú seem almost... too young. A disciple who still hasn’t understood that he doesn’t control the world.

She analyzed him for a full second.

And then said, with utter disinterest:

"Who knows?"

The silence grew even heavier.

"He’s interesting."

Another vein throbbed on Cú Chulainn’s forehead.

"Ah."

He smiled.

A cold smile now. The previous joy twisted into something sharper.

"Alright. So that’s it."

He turned his face slightly toward the arena, as if already imagining the future.

"The interesting one will die in the labyrinth."

The sentence fell like a pronouncement.

The entire Colosseum held its breath.

Before anyone could react, Loki—now completely regenerated, as if nothing had happened—simply appeared beside him.

Smiling.

"Dear competitor," Loki began, his voice as soft as poison slowly poured out. "The little thief who stole a mortal’s body just to comply with the tournament rules..."

He tilted his head.

"...could you please go fuck yourself?"

His smile was perfect.

Cú Chulainn turned his face slowly.

"What?" he asked.

"Are you deaf?" Loki replied.

And then—

KABOOMMMMM.

The blow came sideways, right at the base of his ear. A precise, calculated impact, charged with compressed divine energy.

Cú Chulainn was hurled away like a projectile.

His body pierced the air, violently struck one of the stands, and sank into it with enough force to create a crater. Stones flew. Runes failed.

He lay there.

Embedded.

Silent.

Loki shook his hand as if he had just delivered an awkward slap.

He smiled.

And then looked at Scathach.

"Please," he said, too politely. "Learn to teach manners to your imbecile disciple."

Scathach stared at him.

For a long second... Then sighed.

"Norsemen..." she murmured, passing by him without even touching him. "All the same. A bunch of idiots." She continued on.

The entire Colosseum remained silent. It had been more than a minute... And nobody dared to be the first to break it.

...

The starting area of ​​the second phase was far too wide to be comfortable.

The light stone floor stretched in concentric circles, each marked with ancient symbols that pulsed slowly, as if the coliseum itself were breathing before the next violence. Still-inactive portals awaited the competitors, suspended in the air like obedient fissures, ready to swallow bodies, wills, and destinies as soon as the signal was given.

Alice sat on the edge of one of these circles.

She didn’t seem tense.

Her legs were bent to the side, her hands resting behind her body, her face tilted slightly upward as she observed the artificial sky above the arena. The mana around her was calm—too organized. Small luminous threads danced around her shoulders and hair, reacting to her presence as something natural, almost affectionate.

Seris approached silently in a form of mana that only Alice could see.

She stopped a few steps away, observing the disciple for a few seconds before speaking. As always, she assessed not only posture, but the flow, the breathing, the density of mana around Alice.

"You’re too quiet," Seris commented. "That usually means something’s wrong."

Alice smiled slightly, without turning her face.

"I was thinking."

Seris crossed her arms. "About the labyrinth?"

"About what’s inside it," Alice corrected.

She finally turned to the mistress, her eyes clear and attentive, far from any childish naiveté one might imagine from looking only at her appearance.

"Seris," Alice said carefully, but without hesitation, "I want you to put a barrier around the labyrinth."

Seris frowned immediately.

"A barrier?" she repeated. "Alice, the Labyrinth of Daedalus is already isolated by multiple layers of containment. Scathach doesn’t mess around with that sort of thing."

"I know," Alice replied. "But it’s not the labyrinth that worries me."

Seris tilted her head slightly. "Then what is it?"

Alice took a deep breath. For the first time since she’d sat there, the mana around her shifted—not in volume, but in intent.

"One of the competitors," she said. "Angelo."

Seris remained silent, waiting.

"From the first phase," Alice continued, "there’s something wrong with him. It’s not raw power. It’s not technique. It’s..." she closed her eyes for a moment, searching for the right words. "It’s like looking at something that shouldn’t exist in that way."

Seris narrowed her eyes.

"Wrong how?"

Alice opened her eyes again.

"Like an echo," she said. "But not just one. Several. Many. Overlapping."

Seris felt a subtle shiver run down her spine.

She knew that tone. Alice wasn’t speculating. She was feeling.

"Are you sure?" Seris asked.

Alice nodded without hesitation.

"I tried to ignore it at first," she admitted. "I thought it was interference from the coliseum, or remnants of the battles. But the more I pay attention... the clearer it becomes."

She lowered her voice.

"There’s something inside it that isn’t just one thing."

Seris stood still for a second longer than usual.

Then, she uncrossed her arms. 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝐰𝚎𝕓𝐧𝚘𝘃𝗲𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝕞

"Alright," she said. "Show me."

Seris raised one hand.

The mana around her shifted instantly. It didn’t grow explosively—it expanded with surgical precision. A domain began to form, invisible to most, but heavy as a veil falling over the entire coliseum.

The runes on the ground reacted. The outer barriers vibrated. More sensitive gods frowned, unsure of exactly why.

Seris was extending her perception.

Not just looking.

But touching the space.

Her magic spread like a silent tide, enveloping bleachers, corridors, VIP rooms... until it reached the edge of the newly created labyrinth.

And then—

She found it.

Angelo.

Seris stopped breathing for a split second.

She focused.

She used layered mana sensors, each filtering something different: density, flow, identity, spiritual signature.

And what she saw made her stomach sink.

"..."

She pressed her fingers lightly, as if to confirm that it was real.

"There are at least..." Seris murmured, her voice almost imperceptible. "...a hundred souls inside that body."

Alice didn’t seem surprised.

She just nodded slowly.

"I felt something similar," she said. "I couldn’t count. Just... hear."

Seris swallowed hard.

"This isn’t ordinary fusion," she continued, more to herself than to Alice. "Nor possession. Nor contract."

She narrowed her eyes, analyzing more deeply.

"It’s a cluster," she concluded. "An artificial core sustained by multiple fragmented consciousnesses."

Alice stood slowly, coming to her master’s side.

"It’s an automaton," Alice said. "But not in the simple sense."

She observed the labyrinth from a distance, as if she could see through the walls.

"It’s as if someone had built a body..." she made a vague gesture with her hand. "...and then poured souls into it, one on top of the other, until it began to move."

Seris felt a deep unease.

"This is unstable," she said. "Extremely."

"Exactly," Alice replied. "And now he’s going to enter a labyrinth designed to break mind, body, and spirit all at once."

She turned her face to Seris.

"If something goes wrong in there," Alice said with frightening calm, "it won’t stay contained."

Seris closed her eyes for a moment.

Then she made her decision.

She extended the dominion even further.

Additional layers of containment formed around the labyrinth, invisible but dense, prepared to seal mana explosions, spiritual collapses, or something worse.

"You did well to speak up," Seris finally said.

Alice smiled slightly.

"I prefer to be cautious."

Seris opened her eyes, still focused on that distant presence.

"Whatever happens," Seris murmured, "we won’t let it get away."

Alice nodded.