My Wives are Beautiful Demons-Chapter 704: Breaking the Rules of a Maze

Vergil’s smile slowly faded, as if it had never been there.

The hexagonal room remained motionless, the silent monolith before him, the enigma gleaming in ancient silver. "That which moves without leaving its place, guides without pointing, and exists even when there is no ground?"

He knew the answer.

He probably would in a few minutes.

But that wasn’t what bothered him.

What bothered him was the fact that, until that moment, he had been allowing himself to play by someone else’s rules.

He had tested.

Analyzed.

Observed.

Purposefully chosen dead ends.

Admired Scáthach’s runic engineering.

But, in the end, he was still walking in circles within a structure that insisted on bending space to keep him contained.

Vergil closed his eyes for a moment.

He took a deep breath.

When he opened them again, there was no trace of amusement left. "Enough."

The word came out low, firm.

He took a step outside the runic circle. The inscriptions on the ground lost their luster, as if disappointed at not having been resolved. The monolith vibrated slightly, waiting. Vergil simply turned his back.

If the labyrinth wanted a game of logic, it was no longer interested.

He reached for the hilt of the Yamato.

The metal responded to the touch as if alive, recognizing the decision even before it was made.

The blade slid out of its sheath with a clean, sharp sound. The air around seemed to thin, as if it had been stretched too far.

Vergil walked to the nearest wall.

Not the door.

The wall.

Massive stone, reinforced by layers of interwoven runes. Redirecting vectors, structural isolation, energy absorption.

He touched the tip of the blade to the surface.

"Let’s see if you can handle this."

The cut was simple.

Horizontal.

Controlled.

Silent.

For a second, nothing happened.

Then a thin line of blue light pierced the stone. The demonic energy didn’t explode, didn’t break, didn’t shatter. It split.

The wall opened as if separated into two distinct concepts of existence. 𝐟𝕣𝗲𝕖𝕨𝗲𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝗲𝚕.𝗰𝚘𝐦

The runes flashed red, emitting a sharp, overloading sound.

The upper half of the structure slid a few centimeters... and simply lost cohesion, dissolving into particles of uncontrolled mana.

On the other side, there was no formal corridor.

There was the raw interior of the labyrinth. Structural layers. Mana channels. Runic gears that should never be seen by participants.

Vergil passed through.

The system reacted immediately.

The nearby walls began to move violently, attempting to recalculate routes, seal the breach, redirect the intruder.

He advanced without altering his pace.

An improvised corridor formed ahead, abruptly closed by a new barrier that descended from the ceiling with a crash.

Vergil didn’t stop.

The blade described a vertical arc.

The barrier was cut before touching the ground.

Enchanted fragments fell inert.

The labyrinth hadn’t been designed for this.

It had been created to confuse, redirect, isolate.

Not to be traversed like paper.

Vergil turned left.

Dead end.

He didn’t even sigh this time.

Another cut.

The wall disappeared.

With each structure he dismantled, the runes lost synchronization. Patterns that once elegantly rearranged themselves now flickered irregularly. The mutable logic began to show flaws.

He was no longer searching for paths.

He was tracing a straight line through something that insisted on being curved.

The ground ahead trembled.

Blades emerged from the walls in rapid succession, forming a deadly grid.

Vergil advanced.

His movements became almost invisible. The Yamato moved in precise cuts, dismantling the blades before they completed their arcs. Enchanted metal fell to the ground in useless pieces.

The runes on the nearby blocks began to glow intensely, attempting to reinforce the structure.

He felt the resistance increase.

He smiled, but there was no humor in the gesture.

"Finally trying."

He focused more energy on the blade.

The air distorted.

Shadows curved around him, drawn by the demonic density that began to overflow from his presence.

Another wall appeared ahead—thicker, with multiple overlapping runic layers. A central node pulsed within, redistributing energy to maintain cohesion.

Vergil watched for a second.

Then he cut not the wall, but the space in front of it.

The blow struck not just matter.

It struck connection.

The runic node shattered silently.

The wall ceased to be part of the system and fell like ordinary stone.

A wave of instability swept through the sector.

Magical gears spun out of sync.

Distant corridors froze for an instant before attempting to reorganize themselves.

Vergil advanced through the mana dust.

The labyrinth tried something different.

The ground ahead opened into a deep abyss, absolute darkness where neither bottom nor flow of energy could be seen. It wasn’t a simple trap—it was a surface removal.

He didn’t hesitate.

He stepped into the void.

Demonic energy condensed beneath his feet, supporting him like an invisible blade.

He traversed the abyss walking through the air, as if the absence of ground were irrelevant.

When he reached the other side, a new wall was already rising at breakneck speed.

He cut it before it finished forming.

Now the labyrinth didn’t react with elegance.

It reacted with urgency.

Barriers appeared misaligned.

Runes overlapped haphazardly.

Redirection systems began to conflict with each other.

Vergil kept walking.

Calm.

Cold.

Determined.

But the energy around him grew.

It wasn’t lack of control.

It was a decision.

Every dead end that appeared was reduced to rubble.

Every blockade was broken.

Every attempt at confinement was nullified.

He was no longer trapped in isolated sectors.

He was opening a continuous scar in the labyrinth’s structure.

Then he felt it.

The roar.

Louder.

Closer.

The Minotaur’s vibration no longer came as a distant echo. It was a concrete, massive presence, pulsing through the structure.

Vergil stopped before yet another reinforced wall—this one different from the others. Triple layers. Deep anchoring runes. Direct connections to the central core.

It was a real containment barrier.

He rested the blade on his shoulder.

"You should have put this on sooner."

The energy around him condensed violently. The ground beneath his feet cracked in thin lines. The nearby runes began to fade, unable to withstand the pressure.

He gripped the Yamato with both hands.

The cut that followed wasn’t wide.

It wasn’t dramatic.

It was precise.

Vertical.

The blade pierced the barrier, the runic connection, the inner flow.

For a second, the entire labyrinth seemed to hold its breath.

Then the wall split from top to bottom, and the shockwave coursed through the adjacent corridors like a pulse.

Entire sectors lost synchronization.

Doors jammed open.

Traps failed.

The shifting logic partially collapsed.

Vergil traversed the wreckage.

Ahead, space expanded.

The air was warmer.

Heavier.

The roar came again—not distant, not muffled.

Direct. He slid the blade back into its sheath.

The energy around him didn’t diminish.

But it stabilized.

"If I can’t follow the path..." he murmured.

His footsteps echoed in the new chamber that opened before him.

"...then I cut whatever is in the way."

The impact of the final cut traveled through the labyrinth like subterranean thunder.

It wasn’t just structural.

It was visible.

In the sky above the Colosseum, the magical projections showing the inner sectors began to fail. Steady images of elegant corridors and ingenious traps were replaced by luminous ruptures—blue lines cutting through walls that simply ceased to exist.

For a second, the audience was silent.

Confused.

In one of the enlarged projections, Vergil was clearly seen traversing a section that wasn’t a corridor at all—just the inner thickness of the structure, as if he were walking through the skeleton of the labyrinth.

Another wall split in two. The entire section flashed red.

The crowd reacted.

First with murmurs.

Then with exclamations.

And then—

Boos.

Loud.

Collective.

Directed upwards.

To the point where Loki hovered, still supported by magic, his green cloak billowing dramatically.

The giant illusions of his face above the stadium flickered, alternating between shocked, irritated, and exaggeratedly offended expressions.

"Hey! HEY!" Loki raised his hands theatrically. "Who exactly are you booing?"

The enlarged image showed Vergil passing through yet another reinforced wall as if tearing silk.

The structure of the section partially collapsed before visibly reorganizing itself.

The boos grew louder.

Someone shouted from the stands:

"WHAT KIND OF LABYRINTH IS THIS?!"

Another:

"THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE IMPOSSIBLE!"

Yet another:

"GIVE BACK THE TICKET!"

Loki put his hand to his chest, feigning a death blow.

"What cruelty! What betrayal! Me, a humble organizer of divine entertainment, being held responsible for a small... structural detail!"

Another blue explosion cut through a section of the labyrinth. An aerial projection clearly showed a straight line opening through multiple corridors.

The audience reacted as if watching someone breaking the rules of a carefully constructed game.

"THIS ISN’T FAIR!"

"IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A CHALLENGE!"

"FIX IT!"

Loki spun in the air, dramatically offended.

"Fix it? Fix it?!" He pointed to himself. "You think I designed this thing full of academic runes and traumatizing engineering?"

Another wall was cut.

Sector three went into temporary overload. Runes flashing erratically, traps failing before activating.

The booing was now almost unanimous.

Loki landed theatrically on an illusory platform in the air, crossing his arms.

"Oh no, no, no. This has a name and surname."

He snapped his fingers.

An illusory projection appeared beside him—the stylized image of Scáthach, arms crossed, expression cold and utterly unimpressed.

"Ladies and gentlemen, if you want to complain about ’structural integrity’," Loki made air quotes, "the technical culprit is this lovely, violent, and overly confident warrior!"

The audience reacted with a mixture of laughter and renewed boos.

"SHE DID IT!"

"HER FAULT!"

"REINFORCE THAT!"

Loki pointed to the labyrinth, where another blue rupture cut through yet another sector.

"I asked for a deadly labyrinth! I asked for chaos! I asked for cruel traps and existential despair!"

He opened his arms dramatically.

"I DIDN’T ASK FOR A PARTICIPANT WITH A ’SHORTCUT’ COMPLEX!" The crowd began to laugh, though the jeers still echoed.

In the enlarged projection, Vergil calmly walked through yet another newly split wall, demonic energy still vibrating around him.

Loki brought his face close to the enlarged illusory image, analyzing it.

"Look at that... he’s not even sweating."

Another section collapsed.

The labyrinth’s central system glowed intensely, attempting to recalibrate the directional vectors that were being systematically ignored.

Loki sighed exaggeratedly.

"I really should have put in a clause against direct dimensional cutting..."

A wave of jeers responded.

He spun in the air again, irritated.

"Fine! Fine! Stop jeering at me as if I said, ’oh yeah, let’s allow someone to literally split the map in half!’"

He pointed dramatically at the projection of Scáthach.

"She said the runes were proof against external manipulation!"

Another wall was breached.

The audience reacted with a collective chorus of "OOOH!"

Loki’s eyes widened.

"This does NOT count as technical external manipulation, this is... mystical vandalism!"

He put his hand to his forehead.

"I’m going to lose divine patronage because of this."

In the center of the stadium, the labyrinth’s core pulsed more strongly. The system was beginning to isolate entire sectors to contain the line of destruction Vergil was creating.

But each new attempt at isolation was quickly nullified by another cut.

The crowd now alternated between boos and cheers.

Some were indignant.

Others... were absolutely fascinated.

"HE’S IGNORING THE MAP!"

"HE’S MAKING A TUNNEL!"

"THIS IS INSANE!"

Loki took a deep breath, regaining his theatrical posture.

"Everything’s under control!" he announced, flashing an overly wide grin. "It’s just... an unexpected gameplay variation!"

Another rupture.

An entire sector went black for two seconds before returning with a delay.

The booing returned.

Loki pointed at the labyrinth with feigned indignation.

"I swear by Odin, if he gets to the Minotaur in a straight line, I’ll charge extra!"

He tilted his head, observing another precise cut.

"...though I admit this is getting interesting."