My Wives are Beautiful Demons-Chapter 708: I will kill you, Shiva.

Alice didn’t move forward immediately after speaking. She remained where she was for a brief moment, as if reorganizing everything within her own mind. Every newly learned movement, every fine adjustment to her body’s mechanics, every variable observed during the previous confrontation was being recalculated in real time. There was no emotion in her expression—only absolute focus. When she finally took her first step, the ground beneath her feet trembled not from brute force, but from the precision with which her weight was distributed. She no longer moved like a mage. She moved like someone who understood exactly what each muscle should do before even acting.

Shura realized this instantly.

His smile returned, wider, more intense, filled with something bordering on enthusiasm.

"Now that’s more like it..." he murmured.

And then the two disappeared.

The impact happened in the middle of the corridor.

Fist against fist.

Unlike before, Alice didn’t use magic to block. She spun her body, aligned her shoulder, distributed the impact through her legs, and countered with another blow, seizing the exact moment Shura’s strength dissipated. The clash between the two created a wave of pressure that cracked the ground beneath their feet, spreading fissures through the already weakened walls.

Shura took a half-step back.

Alice advanced.

Without hesitation.

Without pause.

She no longer thought about collecting data.

She already had enough.

Now she applied it.

The second attack came in sequence—a low blow followed by an upward, but precise, spin. Faster, more efficient, eliminating any wasted movement. Shura blocked, but felt the difference. The strength didn’t just come from her arm. It came from her entire body, synchronized.

"You really learned..." he said, dodging a kick that passed millimeters from her face.

Alice didn’t answer.

She didn’t need to.

She was already on the next move.

The two exchanged blows at high speed, their bodies moving like blurs within the destroyed corridor. Each impact generated small explosions of compressed air, raising dust and fragments of stone. The space around them ceased to be a backdrop—it became merely a collision field.

But there was something different.

Shura still fought like a martial artist.

Alice... no.

She fought like a system.

As she attacked, magical circles briefly appeared around her feet, her fists, her back. Short, almost imperceptible incantations were chanted amidst the movement, strengthening muscles, accelerating nerve impulses, adjusting local gravity.

She wasn’t just replicating.

She was amplifying.

A blow from her now carried more force than it should.

A leap covered more distance.

A dodge happened even before the danger materialized.

Shura began to feel.

The difference. He advanced with more intensity, trying to break her rhythm. A quick combo, continuous sequences, attacks coming from different angles, forcing her to read and respond.

Alice responded to them all.

Not with difficulty.

But efficiently.

Each of her movements seemed to have been calculated even before Shura acted. It was like fighting a reflex that always arrived first.

His smile diminished.

Not out of frustration.

But out of recognition.

"So you’re going all the way, huh?" he said, advancing with more force.

Alice finally spoke.

"I need to improve."

Simple.

Direct.

Emotionless.

She dodged a blow and responded with a direct punch to his stomach, the impact compressing the air around them and launching Shura several meters back. Before he could even regain his balance, she was already ahead again, spinning her body and landing a side kick that sent him crashing against another wall.

The structure gave way.

Stone exploded.

But this time, Shura wasn’t thrown far.

He stopped.

His feet dug into the ground.

He lifted his face.

And then...

He began to laugh.

Loosely.

Restrained.

But real.

"You’re getting too strong too fast..."

Alice tilted her head.

"Is that bad?"

"No," he replied, wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth. "It’s fun."

He advanced again.

But this time, the pressure shifted.

The air grew heavier.

Denser.

Something began to manifest.

—

Above them, in the divine stands, Shiva watched silently.

His eyes were fixed on the projection.

Every movement.

Every adaptation.

Every variation.

Beside him, Kali also watched, but the intensity in her gaze was different—deeper, more instinctive.

Shiva let out a light breath.

"Incredible..."

Kali nodded slowly.

"She doesn’t just learn... she evolves."

In the projection, Alice dodged a blow and responded with a perfect sequence, forcing Shura to retreat clearly for the first time.

"She started behind," Kali continued. "But now..."

Shiva finished:

"She’s overtaking."

His eyes narrowed slightly.

"And she hasn’t even fully realized what she’s doing yet."

Kali crossed her arms.

"If she keeps going at this pace... she’ll catch up to the other two."

Shiva was silent for a moment.

Observing.

Calculating.

Then he murmured:

"No."

Kali turned her gaze to him.

"She’ll go beyond."

In the labyrinth, Alice was no longer just keeping up with Shura.

She was dominating the pace.

And then...

Shura began to lose ground.

—

On the battlefield, the difference became evident.

Every counter-attack attempt was anticipated.

Every blow was intercepted.

Every movement met with a more efficient response.

And along with that...

Alice’s enchantments began to intensify.

Her low voice echoed between the movements.

Ancient words.

Short.

Precise.

Magic accumulated around her like a second layer of existence.

Her blows began to charge energy.

Her movements left trails.

The space around her distorted slightly with each action.

Shura tried to advance once more.

But this time, Alice disappeared before the impact.

And reappeared behind him.

One blow.

Direct.

He was launched again.

Further.

Stronger.

His body passed through two walls before stopping.

Silence.

Heavy.

Alice landed slowly.

Her eyes were cold.

Calm.

Stable.

She was getting stronger.

Faster.

More dangerous.

—

Above, Shiva closed his eyes for a brief moment.

And then he made a decision.

"Enough."

Kali looked at him.

"Are you going to interfere?"

He opened his eyes again.

"If you continue like this... Shura will lose."

And that...

Was not acceptable.

He raised his hand.

And spoke.

Not aloud.

But directly.

"Shura."

In the labyrinth, the fighter’s body trembled slightly.

His eyes widened for a moment.

"Father...?"

But he didn’t have time to continue.

The presence descended.

Heavy.

Absolute.

The aura changed.

The air collapsed around them.

And, in the next instant...

It was no longer Shura.

It was Shiva.

—

Alice stopped. Immediately.

Her eyes locked on him.

She didn’t attack.

She didn’t advance.

She merely observed.

And then she spoke.

"Lord Shiva."

Her voice carried no fear.

Nor exaggerated respect.

It was recognition.

Shiva—now using Shura’s body—inclined his head slightly, a smile slowly spreading across his face.

"So you know who I am..."

He took a step forward.

His presence was completely different now.

Heavy.

Ancient.

Dangerous.

"And you..." he continued, analyzing her with genuine interest. "What is your name?"

Alice didn’t hesitate.

"Alice."

A brief pause.

"Alice Lucifer."

Shiva’s smile lingered for a second.

Two.

Three.

And then...

He stopped.

The air around him grew still.

His eyes narrowed.

"Lucifer..." he repeated slowly.

Alice nodded.

Simple.

Direct.

"Yes. It’s my father’s name."

Silence.

Heavy.

Dense.

Real.

And then...

Shiva froze.

It wasn’t an explosive reaction.

It was worse.

It was absolute.

His eyes widened slightly.

Not from fear.

But from recognition.

From understanding.

From something that... shouldn’t be there.

"...Your father?" he asked, his voice lower.

Alice tilted her head slightly.

"Hell. Demonic Realm. King."

She said it as if listing basic facts.

"His name is Vergil."

And at that moment...

For the first time since the beginning of the tournament, Shiva didn’t answer immediately. The silence that formed wasn’t one of ordinary hesitation, but of calculation. His eyes remained fixed on Alice, analyzing every detail that, until then, he had considered merely peculiar.

He inhaled slowly, as if organizing complex thoughts, and then released the air in a controlled, almost bored sigh, as if he had finally reached an inevitable conclusion.

"I presume you’re adopted, then," he said, his voice firm, without explicit provocation, but laden with a cold logic that hurt more than any direct insult. "Noble demons don’t have children in the usual way... and you possess both Mana and Demonic Energy."

The phrase echoed across the battlefield like a sentence. There was no immediate reaction from Alice. No abrupt gesture, no quick response as usual. Only silence. Her eyes, once attentive and lively, lost focus for an instant, as if they had been cast inward.

"Adopted..." she repeated, the word leaving her lips almost soundless, laden with a weight that shouldn’t exist there, but did. It was true. Deep down, she knew. She always knew. But knowing and hearing were different things. Knowing was a given. Hearing... was a wound.

For a brief moment, Alice looked down, and that seemingly simple posture carried something rare within her: vulnerability. Her fingers closed slightly, as if trying to grasp something invisible, some certainty, some identity that now seemed to slip through her hands. Her mind, always analytical, tried to reorganize the information, to fit that statement into a logical framework... but failed. There wasn’t enough logic to neutralize the emotional impact. And that irritated her more than anything.

"How dare you..." her voice began low, almost inaudible, trembling not from weakness, but from something far more dangerous. When she raised her face again, her eyes were no longer the same. There was something there that hadn’t existed before. Something raw, instinctive, almost primal. "...call me adopted."

The air around them changed instantly.

It wasn’t just a change in pressure or temperature. It was as if reality itself had been forced to acknowledge something being released. The energy around Alice distorted, rippling like a liquid surface disturbed by an invisible force. The ground beneath her feet cracked in fine lines, not from physical impact, but from the absurd density of power that was beginning to condense there.

Her body began to tremble.

It wasn’t a tremor of weakness. It was the kind of vibration that precedes a rupture.

Small fissures of dark energy began to appear around her, like fragments of shadow detaching themselves from her own existence. Her breathing became irregular for a moment, then stabilized, deeper, heavier. Something was being released... something that shouldn’t be seen.

Slowly, as if piercing her own flesh, two horns began to emerge from her head.

They didn’t appear grotesquely, but inevitably. Elegant, curved, with a dark hue that seemed to absorb the surrounding light. They were physical proof of something Alice had always kept hidden. Something she controlled. Something that, at that moment, had ceased to be contained.

Her hair, already black, became even deeper, as if it had lost any trace of natural shine and now reflected only absolute emptiness. Long strands slid down her back, moving slightly even without wind, as if responding to the energy emanating from her body.

And then, her form changed.

It wasn’t an instantaneous transformation, but a continuous growth, as if time had been compressed and forced to rush forward upon her. Her features matured. Her stature increased. The childlike body gave way to an adult figure, refined, powerful. It wasn’t just physical growth—it was evolution.

Her curves defined themselves with an almost hypnotic harmony. Her waist narrowed, creating a striking contrast with the rest of her body. Her hips became wider, firmer, sustaining an imposing presence. Her breasts grew, filling the dress that automatically adjusted to her new shape, as if it were part of her. Every detail of her appearance now carried a dangerous elegance, typical of a demonic noblewoman at her peak.

But what was most striking wasn’t her beauty.

It was her aura.

Once controlled, calculated, almost scientific... now it was chaotic. Dense. Alive.

It was rage.

Not an uncontrolled explosion, but a concentrated force, pulsing around her like an invisible heart. The demonic energy mixed with mana in an unstable way, creating a power field that seemed to crush everything around it. The air became heavy, difficult to breathe. The space itself seemed to recede, as if recognizing the danger.

Alice slowly raised her gaze to Shiva.

Now, there was no doubt in her expression. No hesitation. No vulnerability.

Only absolute certainty.

"I am Alice."

Her voice was no longer the same. There was a depth to it, a resonance that made each word vibrate in the air, as if carrying raw power.

"And it doesn’t matter how I was born."

She took a step forward, and the ground gave way beneath her foot, unable to withstand the pressure.

"I decide what I am. And I am the daughter of Vergil Lucifer." She said with a pause, "I will kill you, Shiva."