My Wives are Beautiful Demons-Chapter 720: Holy War in the Divine Land

The VIP room, previously shrouded in a controlled and arrogant silence, began to vibrate with an invisible pressure that seemed to compress the very air, as if something gigantic were crushing the reality outside, pushing its effects into that isolated space. Shiva remained motionless for a few seconds, but his eyes, once serene, began to contract with increasing tension, as if something were draining his essence little by little. He placed his hand on his chest, feeling the strange emptiness forming within him, an absence where once there had been limitless power.

"I am being suppressed." His voice came out low, but laden with an unusual weight, something that did not match the divinity he represented.

Kali did not respond immediately, but her smile disappeared, replaced by a cold and calculating expression, her eyes scanning the space as if analyzing something unseen. She felt it too. The energy around her was being sucked away, ripped away, as if the very concept of divinity was being negated by a greater force, something profane enough to defy even the most ancient gods.

Without hesitation, she raised her hand and struck the air, not against a visible enemy, but against the very fabric of reality, and the space before her tore like fabric being cut by a blade, revealing a dark and unstable portal, its surface rippling with an energy that did not belong to that world.

"Let’s go." Her order came dryly, directly, leaving no room for questioning.

Shiva, however, did not move toward the portal. His eyes narrowed, focusing on something beyond the room, something only he seemed to see at that moment. The presence of his son. Without saying a word, he raised his arm and struck the void before him with even more force, creating a second fissure, more violent, more unstable, its opening revealing a fragmented view of the destroyed battlefield.

Among the wreckage, covered in blood and residual energy, lay Shura’s body. For an instant, time seemed to slow down, silence filling that space like a grief that had not yet been accepted. Shiva reached through the portal, his expression now completely blank, devoid of any trace of hesitation, and pulled his son’s body towards him, bringing him back with a firm movement, as if refusing to leave him in that place.

The weight of Shura’s body fell into his arms, and even lifeless, he still carried the presence of who he had been. Kali watched silently for a brief moment, but said nothing; there were no words that could fill that instant. The world outside was collapsing, and this was not the time for lamentations. Shiva adjusted his son’s body, holding it firmly, and then turned his gaze back to the portal Kali had opened.

"Let’s go." This time, his voice carried no hesitation, only decisiveness.

Without further delay, the two crossed the portal, carrying Shura’s body with them, as the rift closed behind them, leaving behind a world that was slowly being devoured by something far beyond the gods.

In our area.

The area where the northern gods resided remained partially intact, but the surrounding air no longer held the same stability as before; there was a growing distortion, as if the very fabric of reality were being slowly corroded by a force that recognized no limits or divine hierarchies. The once clear sky was now stained by currents of dark energy that snaked like open veins, and in the distance, it was possible to feel—not just see—the progressive collapse of everything that sustained that world. Still, three figures stood motionless in the center of that silent chaos, like pillars refusing to yield, even in the face of the inevitable.

Odin was at the forefront.

His posture was erect, but not rigid; there was a calculated serenity in his presence, like someone who had seen this kind of destruction before, perhaps not in the same way, but enough to recognize its signs. His single visible eye was fixed on the distorted horizon, observing not only what was happening, but what lay behind it. He did not seem surprised. Not alarmed. Just... resolute.

"It’s best if we ignore this and leave." His voice echoed authoritatively, firmly, without any hesitation, as if the decision had already been made long ago, long before that moment even materialized.

Thor, standing beside him, frowned immediately, the weight of the hammer still resting in his hand as his attention turned to his father. There was something profoundly wrong with this order, something that didn’t align with everything he knew about honor, duty, and responsibility. His eyes quickly scanned the scene ahead, absorbing the magnitude of the disaster, before returning to Odin, clearly dissatisfied.

"Ignore?" The word came out laden with disbelief, his deep voice reflecting the growing tension in his body. "Do you see what’s happening? This isn’t just ordinary destruction, someone is... consuming gods." He gripped the hammer’s handle lightly, the electrical energy around him instinctively oscillating, reacting to his emotion. "If we let this continue, there will be nothing left to return to."

Loki, who remained slightly behind, casually leaning against a floating fragment of stone, let out a long, dramatic sigh, as if he were tired of this discussion before it had even truly begun. His eyes, however, were far from relaxed; they followed every movement of that dark energy that spread, analyzing, calculating, understanding more than he showed.

"I hate to admit it..." he began, tilting his head slightly, his usual smile reduced to a faint line, "...but the brute is right this time." His fingers twirld slowly, manipulating a small illusory flame that appeared and disappeared between them, a reflection of his constantly active mind. "This isn’t something you simply ignore. It’s not an ordinary war, nor a conflict of divine egos." His eyes narrowed, his tone becoming more serious. "This is someone breaking the rules of the game."

Thor looked at Loki, surprised for a moment, not by agreeing with him, but by hearing that seriousness in his voice. "So you also think we should fight."

"I think," Loki replied, rising slowly, abandoning his previous relaxed posture, "that if we do nothing, we might end up being the next to disappear." His smile returned, but now there was something darker in it. "And I, personally, prefer to continue existing."

The silence that followed was heavy, laden with tension, as both turned their gazes to Odin, waiting for an answer, a change, any sign that he would reconsider. But Odin... did not move.

His gaze remained fixed on the horizon.

And then he spoke.

"My eyes have already told me everything I need to know."

The way he said it left no room for doubt or interpretation. It wasn’t arrogance. Nor disinterest. It was knowledge. Something that transcended what they were seeing at that moment.

Slowly, Odin raised his spear, and with a single movement, pierced the space before him. There was no resistance. Reality opened up as if naturally obeying his will, forming a deep, dark, yet stable portal, whose surface reflected not the current chaos, but a distant, untouched place.

Safe.

"This is not a battle that belongs to us."

His voice was low now, but still carried absolute authority. He wasn’t asking. Nor suggesting.

He was ordering.

Thor took a step forward, clearly about to argue again, but stopped mid-movement. Something in Odin’s expression made him hesitate. There was no fear there. No doubt.

There was certainty.

And that... was heavier than any argument.

His fingers tightened around the hammer, the electrical energy around him vibrating intensely for a brief instant before slowly dissipating. His jaw clenched, his muscles tense, like someone fighting against their own nature.

But, in the end... he didn’t speak.

Loki, on the other hand, let out a small, dry laugh, crossing his arms as he watched the open portal. "Always the most dramatic one, isn’t it?" he commented, but there was no real mockery in his voice this time. Just acceptance.

He already understood.

If Odin was choosing to leave...

Then that was something even he didn’t intend to face.

And that said much more than any explanation.

"Well," Loki shrugged, walking slowly towards the portal, "I can’t say I’m looking forward to staying here and finding out what happens next."

Thor remained motionless for a few more seconds, looking once more at the chaos in the distance, at the destruction, at the gods still fighting, at the energy that devoured everything indiscriminately. His instinct screamed to fight. To stay.

But... he trusted Odin.

And, reluctantly, he retreated.

His steps were heavy as he made his way to the portal, each movement laden with an internal conflict he couldn’t completely ignore.

Odin was the last to move.

Before crossing, he cast one last glance back, his single eye gleaming faintly, as if registering that moment, recording every detail, every consequence yet to come.

The vastness of the space where the Olympian gods gathered no longer possessed the serene grandeur that had once defined that domain; the air was heavy, saturated by a presence that not only invaded but consumed everything around it, as if every particle of that plane were being slowly torn from its original essence and converted into something... inadequate. The golden glow that normally enveloped the environment had been replaced by an unstable oscillation, like a flame about to go out, while, in the distance, echoes of destruction reverberated at irregular intervals, revealing the advance of something that did not respect divine boundaries.

In the center of that growing tension, three figures remained.

Zeus stood, with a firm posture, but without the theatrical arrogance that normally accompanied him; There was something different in his expression, something more restrained, more calculated, like someone who recognized a real danger and, above all, understood that confronting it at that moment would bring no glory. His eyes scanned the fragmented horizon, following the trails of dark energy that spread like a disease across the world, and, for a brief instant, his fist clenched, not out of fear, but out of frustration.

Ares, beside him, hid absolutely nothing.

His body was tense, his muscles contracted, as if he were a single impulse away from advancing directly against whatever was causing all that chaos. His eyes burned with fury, not only because of the destruction itself, but because of the idea that something dared to challenge the dominion of the gods in that way. For him, it wasn’t just a threat.

It was an invitation.

A challenge.

And he hated the idea of ​​retreating.

"Is this a joke?" His voice was thick with irritation, the weight of his words reflecting the internal conflict that clearly consumed him. "Someone is massacring gods and our response is... to walk away?" He stepped forward, the energy around his body oscillating violently, as if reacting to his indignation. "We are gods. It is our responsibility to crush this before it gets worse."

Athena, on the other hand, remained completely still.

Her posture was erect, her breathing controlled, her eyes fixed on the same point Zeus observed, but, unlike Ares, there was no impulse in her presence. Only analysis. Calculation. Comprehension.

She didn’t just see what was happening.

She saw what it meant.

And, above all... what would come next.

"You’re looking at this as a battle," she said, her voice calm, firm, but laden with a weight that made her words resonate more deeply than usual. "But this is no ordinary war." Her eyes narrowed slightly, following a wave of energy that swept across the sky, consuming everything in its path. "This is an extinction event."

Ares turned sharply to her, clearly irritated by that cold, almost distant approach. "And since when do we retreat from a threat?"

"From the moment we understood that facing it unprepared guarantees our defeat," Athena replied, without raising her voice, without showing any sign of hesitation. She then turned her gaze to Zeus. "You’ve already decided, haven’t you?"

The silence that followed was brief.

Because Zeus... didn’t deny it.

He let out a long sigh, as if releasing the weight of a decision that had already been made even before that moment. His eyes, which normally carried arrogance and unquestionable authority, now reflected something rarer.

Prudence.

"We’re not going to wait and see what’s coming."

His words were direct. No beating around the bush.

No room for discussion.

Ares opened his mouth to argue again, but stopped before making a sound. Something about the way Zeus said it was enough to make him hesitate. It wasn’t fear.

It was... recognition.

If even Zeus was choosing to retreat...

Then this wasn’t something that could be treated as a simple confrontation.

Zeus slowly raised his hand, and, in the next instant, the air around him began to vibrate intensely. Lightning bolts began to appear, not as uncontrolled discharges, but as precise lines of energy, tearing through the space before him with absurd force. The sound was deafening, like the roar of a storm concentrated in a single point, while reality yielded, opening at the god’s command.

The portal took shape.

Unstable.

Violent.

But functional.

Inside it, there was no destruction. There was no chaos.

Only... an exit.

Zeus kept his arm raised, easily supporting the opening, while his gaze turned to the other two.

"Let’s go."

It wasn’t a request.

It was an order.

Athena was the first to move. Without hesitation.

Without looking back.

Her steps were firm, determined, like someone who had already accepted the consequences of that decision. Before crossing the portal, however, she paused briefly, her eyes drifting for a moment to the distant horizon, where the collapse continued to expand.

She said nothing.

But her expression made it clear.

This... wouldn’t end there.

And when they returned... the world would not be the same.

She crossed the portal.

Ares remained motionless for a few more seconds, his body still tense, his mind clearly in conflict. Every instinct in his being screamed to fight, to advance, to crush that threat before it grew even larger.

But... he was not a fool.

He clenched his fists tightly, his teeth grinding in frustration, before finally turning towards the portal.

"This isn’t over," he murmured, more to himself than to anyone else, before stepping through the opening.

Zeus was the last.

His gaze swept across the scene once more, absorbing the magnitude of what was unfolding. Unlike Ares, he wasn’t frustrated.

And unlike Athena... he wasn’t just analyzing.

He was... anticipating.

"If anyone survives this..." he murmured, almost thoughtfully, "then perhaps it’s worth coming back."

And, without another word, he crossed the portal.

Far from the epicenter where reality was beginning to crumble under the weight of a force that shouldn’t exist, there was a point where chaos hadn’t yet fully touched, but its approach was already impossible to ignore. The sky, once stable, now carried dark veins that spread slowly, like invisible cracks threatening to split the very fabric of the world. It was a high, isolated place, where silence could still exist—but not for long.

There, two figures observed.

Sun Wukong sat nonchalantly on the edge of an ancient structure, one leg dangling slightly in the void while his eyes, normally filled with irreverence, were fixed on the distant horizon. On his head, the golden crown rested like a constant irony—a symbol of restraint, of limitation... and yet, he smiled.

But it wasn’t a smile of amusement.

It was recognition.

Beside him, standing with his hands tucked within the wide sleeves of his robes, Buddha observed the same point, though his expression was much more serene, almost distant, as if watching something inevitable unfold exactly as it should.

The silence between them lasted a few seconds. 𝐟𝕣𝗲𝕖𝕨𝗲𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝗲𝚕.𝗰𝚘𝐦

Until Wukong spoke.

"It was what I feared..."

His voice carried no fear. Nor surprise. Only... realization.

His eyes narrowed slightly, following the distortion on the horizon, where a dark energy expanded in irregular pulses, consuming everything around it and leaving only emptiness.

"In the end... she became fuel."

He let out a small, humorless, nasal laugh, tilting his head slightly to the side, as if it were the final piece of a puzzle he had assembled long ago.

"Yama..."

The name carried no emotional weight.

But it carried meaning.

Because this wasn’t just a death.

It was a process.

And someone... had understood exactly how to use it.

Buddha remained silent for another moment, absorbing those words, his eyes reflecting not the event itself, but its implications. He didn’t need to ask what had happened.

He already knew.

But that didn’t make the situation any less serious.

"So... it has already begun," he said, his voice calm, as if narrating something that had already been decided long before that moment.

Wukong let out a small sigh, resting his chin on his palm as he continued to observe the horizon.

"It has begun," he confirmed simply.

The wind passed by them, carrying a faint trace of that distorted energy, enough to make even the air seem... heavy.

Buddha then turned his face slightly towards Wukong, his eyes briefly falling on the golden crown that rested on his head.

"You are still sealed."

It wasn’t a question.

It was an observation.

And, for the first time, there was something more there—not worry, but a silent reflection on everyone’s role in that moment.

"If this continues at this rate... there won’t be much left to protect."

Wukong didn’t answer immediately.

His gaze was still distant, as if he were observing something far beyond what was visible to the naked eye. Then, slowly, a smile began to form on his lips.

But this time...

It was different.

It was the smile of someone who knew exactly what he was doing.

"Relax," he said, in a light, almost carefree tone, as if this wasn’t an existential threat expanding across the world.

He raised one hand and vaguely pointed to the horizon.

"The younger ones are there for that."

Buddha remained silent.

But his eyes followed the gesture.

And then he saw.

Even at an absurd distance, where space was already beginning to fragment, it was still possible to feel... it.

Two presences.

Colliding repeatedly.

One, unstable.

Mutable.

Learning.

The other... cold.

Precise.

Inevitable.

Wukong tilted his head slightly, his smile widening a little more as he observed that specific point in the middle of the chaos.

"Look there..."

His voice now carried a slight interest, something closer to excitement than anything else.

"It seems he’s getting stronger."

Buddha didn’t need to ask who he was talking about.

Because it was... evident.

Even from so far away, the pressure generated by that confrontation stood out from the rest. It wasn’t just destruction. It wasn’t just brute power.

It was evolution.

It was adaptation.

It was... real-time learning.

"And the other one?" "The other one?" Buddha asked, still observing.

Wukong chuckled softly, this time with a slight trace of genuine amusement.

"The other one?" he repeated, as if he found the question interesting.

His eyes gleamed slightly.

"That one was born wrong."

The wind passed again.

Stronger this time.

Carrying distant echoes of destruction.

Screams.

Collapse.

And something else...

Something that shouldn’t exist.

Buddha closed his eyes for a brief moment.

Not to avoid seeing.

But to... understand.

When he opened them again, his gaze was firmer.

More determined.

"If they fail..."

He didn’t finish the sentence.

But he didn’t need to.

Wukong shrugged, as if that were just another possibility among many.

"If they fail..."

He finally took his eyes off the horizon, tilting his head slightly back, gazing at the cracked sky above them.

"...then we’ll see what to do."