My Wives are Beautiful Demons

His body seemed to float, yet at the same time, it engulfed the very air with his fury, as if his mere existence distorted reality itself. The edges of his form twisted, and a wild, chaotic energy began to corrupt the very lines of his being, as if something unnameable was taking shape behind him.

The transformation was so intense that Vergil no longer seemed human.

Wu Tian watched, and for the first time, felt a chill run down his spine.

Vergil's skin turned a bluish-gray, cold and spectral, while his veins pulsed with an ethereal energy, flowing like the heartbeat of a primordial entity. His features grew even sharper and more intimidating, every contour of his face carrying a predatory perfection.

But the most terrifying thing was what emerged behind him.

Spectral wings, translucent and shadowy, spread from his back, like the fragments of a celestial being corrupted by absolute power. They were not solid—they seemed to be made of pure energy, vibrating and undulating as if they were on the verge of tearing space itself apart.

His face disappeared completely, replaced by something even more menacing: a demonic mask, a sinister elongated helmet, whose crest gleamed like a spectral blade. The eyes that once burned with a vivid red were now cold, empty slits, filled with an absolute frigidity—a gaze that knew no weakness, no mercy, no hesitation.

Vergil raised a hand, flexing his fingers, feeling his new form pulse with unimaginable power.

Then, he smiled.

"Now... it's my turn."

The ground beneath his feet sank under the mere pressure of his presence.

The true battle was about to begin.

Wu Tian clenched his fists.

He knew that this form was dangerous.

Very dangerous.

"Looks like... we'll have to take this seriously after all."

Wu Tian's voice was firm, but there was a different weight to it now. It wasn't just determination—it was the recognition of a worthy opponent.

He closed his eyes for a brief moment, exhaled slowly, and then...

His body began to change.

His muscles expanded, his presence became colossal, and his silhouette grew until he resembled a titan from ancient mythology. Dense golden fur sprouted from his skin, covering him like the pelt of an untamed beast. His teeth became sharp fangs, and his eyes burned like twin suns, filled with an ancient power.

And then, the armor emerged.

Plates of raw iron, black as the night itself, covered his body in layers, as if forged by divine fire. They fit perfectly, giving him an almost warrior-like appearance—a cross between a sacred monk and a war beast.

Wu Tian looked at his own hands, now larger, heavier, feeling the titanic strength coursing through his veins.

He had become something close to his master. Something close to Sun Wukong.

He lifted his gaze toward Vergil. The ruined city, the sundered sky, the world watching.

And then, with a fierce smile, he stepped forward.

"Come, Demon King."

And the world trembled at the imminent clash of two titans.

They charged at each other once more, their presences colliding like two suns on a collision course.

CLANG!

The clash of Yamato against Ruyi Jingu Bang made space itself contort. The shockwave swept through the illusory Vatican like a divine hurricane, tearing down cathedrals, shattering columns, and turning the statues of saints into dust. The battle dimension was collapsing from the sheer force of their attacks... after all...

But no blow landed—only counterattacks.

Vergil delivered a slash so fast that his blade seemed to teleport—but Wu Tian foresaw it. His staff moved at the last possible instant, redirecting the sword at an impossible, flawless angle, without breaking his rhythm or losing sight of his opponent.

Wu Tian surged forward, spinning his staff like a whirlwind of destruction—but Vergil was no longer there. He reappeared behind the warrior, Yamato poised to pierce through his spine, but Wu Tian was already twisting, deflecting the strike before it could connect.

Nothing landed.

Nothing missed.

Every strike was countered before it was even completed.

Every attack became an opening for the other's retaliation.

And reality began to pay the price.

The sky cracked like fractured glass. Black rifts emerged on the horizon, as if space itself was buckling under the absurd pressure of their battle. The dimension could no longer withstand it…

The illusory Vatican began collapsing in every possible way.

Buildings folded in on themselves, as if time and space had lost all meaning. The streets inverted, spiraling into the sky like broken tendrils.

The very ground shattered into floating plates, fragments of reality spinning in every direction.

Vergil blocked a strike and slid backward, effortlessly floating in midair.

Wu Tian landed on one of the suspended ruins, his staff spinning between his fingers.
Read new adventures at My Virtual Library Empire

And then… they moved again.

BOOOOOOM!

The impact created something akin to a black hole at the center of the dimension, sucking in light, sound, and matter itself.

Time seemed to stop for an instant.

The shockwaves tore through space, creating fractals of destruction, each fragment of reality imploding in an endless cascade of absolute chaos.

The bells of the cathedrals rang by themselves, their distorted echoes resounding in the void as the very concepts of sound and silence blended together.

Vergil and Wu Tian did not stop.

Their blows did not land, yet they never missed.

They were beyond technique.

Beyond strategy.

This was the very concept of battle, elevated to its absolute peak.

Vergil grinned, his cold eyes gleaming amidst the dimensional apocalypse.

"HAHAHAHAHAHA! YES! THIS IS IT! THIS IS WHAT I WANTED!"

Wu Tian spun his staff one last time, his gaze unwavering.

"Then let's see… who tires out first."

They vanished once more, as the dimension erupted around them…

CRACK!

A fissure tore through space, a rupture in existence itself spreading like veins of destruction.

BOOOOOOOOM!

Shockwaves ricocheted between the two warriors, each clash between Yamato and Ruyi Jingu Bang unleashing torrents of pure energy that shredded what remained of the illusion.

The artificial universe trembled, contorted, struggled to hold itself together…

Then—

Silence.

For a moment, everything froze.

Time seemed to hesitate.

The air grew heavy.

And then—

CRAAAAACK!

The sky split in two, the final fracture expanding until it consumed everything.

The illusion collapsed.

The entire dimension shattered like fragile glass…

And they fell back into reality.

The dark skies of Rome welcomed them once more, the cold, unchanging stars shining above, as if nothing had happened.

Vergil and Wu Tian were hurled backward, each propelled by the sheer force of the other's final strike.

Their feet scraped against the ground, carving craters as they skidded for meters, until finally coming to a stop.

The dust settled.

The winds howled between the sacred buildings.

And for the first time…

They were back in the real world.

They locked eyes with knowing smiles, their bodies still vibrating from the intensity of the battle.

But then…

Wu Tian felt it.

A shiver ran down his spine. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

The presence behind him… was even more terrifying than Vergil's.

He turned in an instant, his golden eyes narrowing at the sight before him.

Pope Adrian was on his knees, trembling like a worm, his hands clasped together in a desperate prayer. But no one in hell would answer his pleas.

Because resting carelessly atop his head was the heel of a woman.

She wore a tight black leather outfit, so form-fitting it seemed stitched directly onto her skin, and her curves exuded a cruel sensuality. A pair of sharp, crimson eyes gleamed as they noticed his presence.

Sepphirothy smiled.

"Oh, you're back." She waved lazily at Vergil, as if casually greeting him on a stroll. "How about you two stop playing around before I have to come over there and beat you both personally?"

Her voice was a venomous melody, something between flirtation and threat.

Vergil didn't care.

But Wu Tian?

He swallowed hard.

'Damn it… if it were anyone else…'

Knowing this wasn't the time for a fight, he sighed, allowing his beastly form to fade. His muscles returned to normal, the fur receded, and he sheathed Ruyi Jingu Bang.

"You attack the Vatican first, and now you want to talk?" Wu Tian growled, crossing his arms.

Sepphirothy merely raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise as she shifted her foot slightly, pressing the pope's head further into the ground.

"Oh, of course, that's exactly what I was trying to understand."

Then, she turned to Vergil, her eyes gleaming with amusement.

"My dear son, could you explain to me why, exactly, you decided to attack God's sanctuary while I was away? Seriously, I leave for two weeks, and when I return, I find you reducing the Vatican to ashes?"

Her almost theatrical tone contrasted with the hidden menace in every word.

Vergil didn't hesitate.

"Ask him." He replied, pointing at Pope Adrian.

Sepphirothy slowly turned her gaze to the old man.

"Speak, dog."

The air grew heavy.

The pope swallowed dryly, his skin turning cadaverous. His mouth opened, but his voice came out as an agonized whisper.

"W-We were… conducting… e-experiments…"

Sepphirothy narrowed her eyes, her expression hardening.

"What kind of experiments?" Her voice was now ice-cold, devoid of emotion.

But she already knew the answer.

Vergil smirked darkly and delivered the final blow:

"The kind you do with children. And when they fail… they kill them. Rape them. Dismember them. That kind of experiment."

The atmosphere froze.

Vergil noticed the shift in Wu Tian's gaze.

The celestial warrior, who had been solely focused on battle before, was now seething with fury.

And Vergil laughed with disdain.

"They sent you here without even telling you, didn't they?"

Wu Tian clenched his fists, his teeth grinding together.

"Bastards…"

But there was no time for arguments.

Sepphirothy smiled… a smile that was anything but human.

"Oh, I see…"

She lifted her foot, moving with an almost elegant disinterest, and then—

CRACK!

She kicked Adrian away.

The old man slammed brutally into a wall, his body bending unnaturally as a jet of blood sprayed from his mouth.

"UGHAAAARGH!!"

He screamed in pain, his bones screamed together, and his skin turned as pale as a corpse.

But Sepphirothy wasn't finished.

She walked slowly towards him, her footsteps echoing in the absolute silence of the night.

Within seconds, she had him by the neck, her fingers sinking into his flesh like claws.

Her red eyes shone, cold and empty.

"Actually..." She began, her voice low but implacable.

"We are in a different position in the planet's hierarchy. Many think that it's us, the demons, who are the real cause of the chaos. But for over a thousand years, we've kept our word and not started any conflicts..."

The air shook around her.

"However..."

Her fingers tightened.

The Pope choked, his face turning purple, the veins bulging like worms under his skin.

"You've been breaking the non-aggression pact for some time now."

His voice was like whispered thunder, charged with an ancient, deep and implacable hatred.

"First, you attacked the Queens' daughters."

His eyes glowed like infernal coals.

"Then they attacked a Demon King."

The Pope began to tremble, absolute fear consuming his body.

"And now..."

Sepphirothy tilted his head, his lips curving into a sadistic smile.

"They were raping children and tarnishing our reputation in our territory."

Adrian shivered violently.

And then-

SQUELCH!

His scream of terror echoed through the city as Sepphirothy plunged his fingers into his right eye and ripped it out mercilessly.

SQUASH!

Blood and ocular matter exploded between her fingers, flowing like a hot, viscous river.

She threw him to the ground, as if he were nothing more than a useless sack of meat.

Adrian screamed.

He screamed like a pig on the verge of slaughter.

But Sepphirothy was not moved.

She held out her hand, and a strange blade took shape in her fist.

Vergil arched his eyebrows. He had never seen that weapon before...

"Demonic retribution, old man."

And in a single movement, it cut off the Pope's right arm.

SPLURTCH!

Blood gushed out like a macabre fountain, dyeing the ground scarlet.

Adrian fell to one side, writhing in agony.

But Sepphirothy didn't stop.

She raised the blade again...

And, without hesitation -

CUT OFF HIS LEFT LEG.

SQUELCH!

The Pope's last cry echoed through the Vatican.

And then, all that remained was silence.