My Wives are Beautiful Demons

"This was so... boring," he murmured, feeling the bitterness of killing an opponent with just a single strike.

The solitary, egocentric force that coursed through his veins as he unleashed another slash... It was just banal and tedious... It felt as though he had stolen something from someone, someone who wasn't even part of his being.

'Bloodlines shape who we are... a demon born from a bloodline has a life predestined for them... So, who am I?' His first question surfaced.

'Power... having power... What makes me desire it so much?' Vergil continued to ponder while the world around him seemed like an apocalypse.

The women around him fought, or rather, played with the demons... There was no real reason to fight here; it was just a small fraction of broken time they were using for entertainment... But...

Why wasn't he enjoying it like they were?

Roxanne smiled and screamed as she spun demons around, tearing off their limbs and using them as brutal weapons.

Ada stood still, controlling rivers of blood while piercing everything around her with needles made of pure blood.

And then there was Katharina...

"KAKAKAKA BURN, DEMONS, KAKAKAKA BURN FOR ME, YOUR MISTRESS, BURN!"

Her laughter echoed across the battlefield as waves of demonic fire enveloped the bodies of the creatures around her.

Her skin was tinged with the blazing flames pouring from her hands, and her glee at seeing the demons consumed by fire was almost childlike in its intensity.

She screamed, jumped, spun—completely lost in the destruction she caused.

Vergil watched the three with a mixture of fascination and detachment. They were enjoying themselves.

Each of them found pleasure in the violence, in the fight, in the destruction. But he... he felt none of it.

Where they saw fun, he saw only a hollow emptiness. There was no satisfaction in crushing weak enemies. There was no joy in overcoming an easy fight.

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Why wasn't he enjoying it like they were?

That question gnawed at him from the inside. It was as if something was missing from his soul, something he couldn't fill no matter how powerful he became. The fight, which should have been the pinnacle of his existence, was becoming a burden.

Death, which should have excited him, was merely another reminder of his own lack of purpose.

Vergil turned his gaze away from the women and toward the horizon. The battlefield seemed to stretch endlessly, filled with more and more demons.

They kept coming, unceasingly, but nothing changed. The feeling of being trapped in an endless wheel of destruction suffocated him.

He felt as if he were stuck in a never-ending cycle, where the only constant was violence and spilled blood.

Boredom hit him with crushing force.

"Is this all there is?" he asked aloud, though he knew no one would answer. "Is this all there is for me?"

His thoughts grew deeper, more introspective. He looked at his hand, the symbol of his strength, and for the first time, he wondered if that really defined him.

He had always believed that physical strength was everything, that the ability to win battles was the only path to greatness. He had thought that way when he became a demon, perhaps a reflection of the person he once dreamed of becoming, amplified by the power of his transformation.

But now, that belief felt hollow.

He remembered his childhood, the days when he was still a child, looking at the world with curiosity and hope. There had been something inside him back then that moved him, a fire that pushed him to grow, to become more. But that fire had somehow been extinguished over the years.

'I need... something more.'

He finally admitted to himself. Power wasn't enough. Strength wasn't enough. He needed something beyond that, something that would give meaning to his existence. But what? What could fill that void?

His gaze returned to the women. They seemed so... free. Each of them appeared to have found a purpose in their madness, in their violence. Roxanne, with her sadistic pleasure in battle; Ada, with her almost artistic control over blood; Katharina, with her insane devotion to fire. Each of them had something that drove them, something that moved them beyond the mere desire for power.

But Vergil? He had none of that. All he had was an empty goal of being the strongest, and now, he was beginning to realize just how pointless that was. True strength wasn't just about crushing enemies, but about having something worth fighting for, something that gave meaning to the battle.

He inhaled deeply, feeling the heavy air of the battlefield fill his lungs. His body was still flooded with power, but his mind was clearer than ever.

"I need to find my own path," he whispered to himself.

He sighed once more and thought of that woman he had just met... "Are you like that too, Sapphire?" he murmured to himself, and a grin spread across his face, mischievous like a devil's.

Shark-like teeth appeared in his mouth, his transformation becoming more pronounced as he took to the skies...

Something inside Vergil was changing.

He felt his body vibrate, every cell pulsing with a primal energy. And then, without warning, he felt something tear from his back.

The pain was intense, but at the same time, it was liberating.

Suddenly, enormous wings burst from the flesh of his back, expanding rapidly until they reached an impressive span.

Vergil's wings were monstrous, each one stretching nearly two hundred meters wide. They were as black as night, covered in a dense, scaly texture, reminiscent of bat leather. The sharp tips of the wings seemed like they could cut through the very air, with dark patterns glowing faintly, as if they were consuming the light around them.

On the ground, the three women fighting the demons were frozen for a moment.

Roxanne, who had been immersed in her sadistic fury, stopped spinning and tearing off her enemies' limbs, her eyes widening as she watched Vergil's transformation.

"Holy shit!" Roxanne dropped all pretense of cuteness and screamed.

Ada, who had been manipulating rivers of blood with near-surgical precision, halted her graceful movements, her hands frozen in mid-air as she looked up at the sky, a mix of surprise and awe in her eyes.

"W-what is that?" Ada stammered.

Katharina, fully consumed in her pyrotechnic madness, stopped her insane laughter. The flames that had engulfed dozens of demons around her began to dwindle as she raised her eyes to the sky, seeing Vergil, now a truly infernal figure, flying above the battlefield.

"Finally, damn it! I've been waiting for this!" she yelled, for she had some special information her mother had given her.

From the ground, the sight they witnessed was nothing short of terrifying and magnificent.

Vergil, now suspended in the air, his enormous demonic wings spread wide around him. His wings were so vast they nearly blotted out the sun, casting an oppressive shadow over the battlefield. It was as if he had become a force of nature—something uncontrollable and untamable.

The sky, once clear, began to darken, as if the world itself was reacting to Vergil's presence.

The air around him seemed to vibrate with the intensity of his aura, distorting space itself.

The demons, who had been attacking with ferocity and savagery, started to hesitate.

Their grotesque faces contorted in confusion and terror.

Many simply stopped fighting, their heads turned toward the sky, unable to comprehend the magnitude of the being now hovering above them. The battlefield, once a scene of rampant chaos, became a tense, eerie silence, broken only by the slow, deliberate flapping of Vergil's enormous wings.
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"So, as you wanted… die, all of you," Vergil said, smiling maliciously. "If I can end it in one strike, then so be it," he declared.

The moment those words left his mouth, the sky above Vergil began to twist.

With a sweeping motion of his hands, a vast web of slashes appeared—an intricate and deadly mesh, shimmering with demonic energy. It descended upon the battlefield like a storm of blades, each strand of the web sharper than steel. There was no defense for the demons below. They barely had time to process the terror before their fate was sealed.

The cuts tore through the enemy army with terrifying speed, shredding them to pieces.

It was as if the air itself was being woven into blades. Blood exploded from every direction, limbs severed in the blink of an eye, bodies disintegrating into a grotesque red rain.

The ground, once teeming with life and savagery, was now consumed by a massacre beyond compare. Each demon, regardless of strength or resilience, was sliced and diced with precision and fatality.

The scene that unfolded wasn't just a battle—it was a mass execution, orchestrated by an unstoppable force.

The silence that followed was profound. Where there had once been the roar of war, there was now only the sound of flesh tearing apart and the wind carrying the metallic scent of fresh blood.

"Oh… I overdid it," Vergil murmured.

"YOU BASTARD, YOU STOLE MY KILL!" Katharina screamed, hurling a fireball at his massive wings.

"Huh? Ah... My bad…" he replied, almost lazily, as if the carnage below were of little consequence.

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<Author's Note>

Hey, remember to use your Golden Tickets and Power Stones to help the work reach new heights!