My Wives are Beautiful Demons-Chapter 219 The Specter

Paimon noticed Vergil's expression and decided it was time to reveal something more serious.

She slid her finger across the tablet screen, bringing up a new image in front of them.

The screen now displayed a blurry photograph, but with enough details to capture Vergil's attention: a man in a black suit, seemingly in the middle of some dark ceremony.

"This is the curse master who attacked Viviane," Paimon said, her voice taking on a more serious tone. "Currently, this guy is a very high-level threat; our system has rated him as Level A."

Vergil leaned in toward the screen, studying every detail. The man in the photo seemed to slip through the shadows, his presence radiating an uncontrollable power. What intrigued him the most was the glowing arcane circle around him, clearly an invocation of some sort of dark magic.

"Who is he?" Vergil asked, his voice lower, as though calculating his next move.

Paimon crossed her arms, a crooked smile appearing on her face. "This guy… he's one of the oldest curse masters. In fact, this entire body is just something he stole from someone. His real identity is a mystery, even to us, but he's known as 'The Specter.' His full power is unknown, and the curses he casts are so powerful they can even consume someone as strong as Viviane."

Vergil raised an eyebrow. "So he was responsible for her near-assassination?" he asked, his voice colder than before.

"Yes," Paimon replied without hesitation. "He used a life-and-death curse, something beyond anyone's control. Viviane was almost destroyed by it, but luckily, you helped her. However, that's just part of what we're facing. The Specter is after the Fragments of Excalibur; we know he has one, just like you. And that's why we're here."

Vergil remained silent for a moment, absorbing Paimon's words. He knew that by getting involved with the Fragments, he was stepping into a much larger game than he had imagined.

"And what does he want with the fragments?" he asked, his eyes still fixed on the tablet screen.

"Power, as always. But it's not just that," Paimon replied, now with palpable seriousness. "A few years ago, an auxiliary artifact known as the Behelith, a chaos orb capable of invoking curses, was stolen from the domains of the Witch Queen. Our investigations suggest that he's now trying to use the Excalibur fragments to… well, turn weapons into something far more powerful."

Vergil fell silent for a moment, processing Paimon's words as his mind raced. "He wants to create a modified Behelith with the Excalibur fragments..." he murmured, the revelation clearing his perception. "So, he's not just after power… He's after creating this. If he succeeds, the destruction will be unimaginable."

Paimon nodded with a dark smile. "Exactly. And that's why we need to act quickly, before he completes what he's started."

Vergil looked at the map again, the red dots and purple circles marking the devastation and the paths the demons were taking. "You're not alone in this," he said with a resolute expression. "I won't let something like this remain unfinished."

Paimon smiled, satisfied with his response. "I knew you'd like this. So, what do we do? Hunt down this Specter and stop his plan before he destroys everything we know?"

Vergil didn't respond immediately. His eyes were fixed on the map, but his mind was far away, thinking about what was to come. He felt like this fight would be different from all the others, that there was something much bigger at stake now. Something personal. "Let's go after him," he finally said, his voice cold and sharp as always. "I'll erase this bastard after what he did to Viviane."

Paimon watched the intensity in Vergil's eyes and smiled with a mischievous gleam. This guy… maybe I should stay closer to him...

Vergil, however, interrupted his thoughts with a sigh. "Oh, wait," he said, suddenly standing up. "Sorry, we can deal with this later. I need to go see my wife. She's awake."

Paimon, who had been turning her back and placing the tablet on the table, turned slightly, surprised. "Wait, not yet–"

But before she could finish, Vergil had already disappeared, teleporting away swiftly. Paimon looked at the empty space where he had been, frowning with a sneer on her face. "Ah... he's already gone..." she murmured to herself, feeling like things were only just starting to get interesting.

...

[Scarlet's Mansion]

Upon entering the room, Vergil found Roxanne awake, lying next to Stella, who was still in a coma. Roxanne's face was serene, but a bit pale, and he noticed the fragility in her features, indicating that she hadn't fully recovered yet.

"Vergil..." Roxanne said in a soft, still trembling voice, her eyes fixed on him with an intensity that only she possessed. There was pain and exhaustion in her gaze, but also something more—a quiet strength, as if she were trying to keep her composure.

"I'm here," he replied, sitting on the edge of the bed and taking her hand in his. He observed her carefully, worried about how weak she still seemed. "Are you feeling better?"

She nodded slightly, but her expression was still not one of complete peace. "You... what happened to him?"

Vergil hesitated for a moment. After everything that had happened with the mother-daughter pairs, he found himself reflecting on the death of Roxanne's father. But talking about it was another thing. He took a deep breath, trying to maintain his composure.

"How long have I been asleep?" Roxanne asked, breaking the silence.

"Three days," Vergil replied, still sitting beside her, his gaze fixed on her face, concerned.

Roxanne, noticing his hesitation, furrowed her brow. "What is it, Vergil? Don't tell me you're still thinking about that bastard."

"He... won't bother you anymore," Vergil said directly, trying to hide any trace of hesitation. He knew Roxanne would never feel pity or doubt about her father, but he still felt the weight of the situation.

She stared at him for a moment, assessing his words, but then her expression softened, and she made a dismissive gesture. "Good. He deserved it anyway. Now, tell me... how's my mom?"

Vergil sighed, looking at Stella with a serious expression. "I asked Viviane to put her in a deeper coma. I don't know what that bastard did, but the psychological attack he caused on her was... devastating. She wasn't in any condition to fight alone."

Roxanne shook her head, as if she already knew the gravity of the situation. "It seems like this man did much more than I imagined... I can't understand how he managed to mess with her mind like that."

"Don't worry," Vergil responded, squeezing her hand lightly. "What matters now is that we'll fix this. I'll take care of everything."

She looked at him with a gaze of gratitude, but also determination. "You always take care of everything, don't you?" She gave a faint, but genuine smile before turning her attention back to Stella. "I just want to see her well, Vergil. That's what matters now."

Vergil nodded, but his mind was already elsewhere.

[Sacred Church of #######]

A woman with blue hair, her eyes as cold as ice, held a priest by the neck with a firm and relentless hand, lifting him off the ground as if he were nothing more than a toy. Her gaze penetrated deeply into his, demanding the truth.

"Speak. Now." Zex growled, her voice heavy with a deadly threat. Her sword, already covered with a thick mantle of blood, reflected the dim light streaming through the broken windows of the church, a silent warning that there was no escape left.

The air was thick with the smell of death. Around them, the bodies of the victims, dressed in white robes, were scattered across the church's halls. The white that once symbolized purity now looked grotesque, transformed into a sea of deep red blood, stains spreading across the floor like a reflection of everything that had been destroyed. The church aides, the accomplices, and those who had corrupted themselves in the shadows, all fallen, exterminated without mercy.

Zex tightened her grip on the priest's neck, the tension mounting, her iron gaze never leaving the pale, stunned face of the man.

"You don't have much time. Tell the truth, or this will be the last thing you do." Zex's voice cut through the silence like a sharp blade, each word heavy with brutal threat. The priest, his eyes wide in terror, felt the weight of death right in front of him, the dense air of tension surrounding him, and he knew deep in his soul that she would not hesitate.

"You can kill him." Iridia's voice sounded cold and distant from behind Zex. She appeared, dragging another priest, this one dressed in the black robes of the cult, and threw him brutally onto the ground in front of Zex.

The new priest, visibly terrified, tried to recoil, but Zex's hands were already firmly around the neck of the first. Iridia, her face marked by a mixture of rage and despair, spoke in a tense voice: "He admitted it." She paused, the weight of the words crushing the room. "Raped. Sold."

Before the priest could comprehend what was happening, Zex, with a quick and merciless motion, tightened her grip. The sound of flesh being crushed echoed through the room, followed by a horrible crack. In the blink of an eye, the priest's neck shattered like glass, and his head fell to the floor with a thud, rolling slowly, leaving a trail of blood behind. The red liquid spread across the floor, and with a slight movement, it splashed onto Zex's face, staining her fierce expression. She showed no remorse—only absolute coldness.

Iridia, her eyes fixed on the corpse, seemed lost in her own thoughts. She muttered, more to herself than to Zex: "The children... how many orphanages run by the Inquisition have we been to?" Her voice was a mix of pain and exhaustion.

"Twelve... just in California." Zex replied dryly, sheathing her bloodstained blade. Her expression was closed, but her eyes—the same eyes that once reflected unwavering faith—now seemed empty, marked by the horrors she had witnessed.

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"I can't take this anymore." Iridia said, her voice trembling with anguish, before driving the sword into the priest's forehead, as a final act of condemnation. She stood still, her tears silently falling down her face. The pain felt unbearable, but she knew none of this would go away—the vision of the children, the smiles they would never have, the bodies left behind.

Vergil had told the truth, revealed the names, destroyed the masks everyone wore. And now, she felt the crushing weight of everything lost, betrayed by those who had called themselves her brothers and sisters... Her faith was shattered.

Zex watched Iridia's suffering, her own heart heavy with guilt and regret. She looked at the cross hanging around her neck, the symbol of her faith, now seeming useless, like a relic from a time that no longer made sense. Her bloodstained hand touched the cross firmly, the last connection that still tied her to the past, to what she once believed was a path of justice and light.

With a long, heavy sigh, Zex destroyed the cross. The wood cracked with a snap, the chain broke, and with one final motion, it fell to the ground, broken and useless. "My faith is worth nothing," she said, her voice cracking. "If the God I believed in even cares... then all of this was in vain."

"Let's go back," Zex said. "Let's reconsider that proposal." Explore more at novelbuddy