My Wives are Beautiful Demons-Chapter 264: Where did Vergil end up?

The environment was undoubtedly hostile, but Vergil remained indifferent. With his hands in his pockets, he walked calmly toward the immense iron door, his footsteps echoing through the vast corridor.

What surprised him, however, was not the imminent danger but the strange cleanliness of that place. For something that emanated energy beyond death, he had expected ruins, decay… yet, instead, he found an immaculate environment. Who would have imagined that behind a repugnant, foul-smelling portal lay a dark palace?

That was how Vergil would describe that place.

The white marble floor faintly reflected the spectral light of the torches, polished to the point of looking freshly cleaned. The high ceiling bore a finish worthy of a luxurious mansion, crafted with the precision of an extravagant architect. Everything there exuded grandeur and sophistication.

The only element that stood out from that refined aesthetic was the torches with purple flames affixed to the walls. They cast distorted shadows across the corridor, giving the space a macabre atmosphere—a subtle reminder that this place did not belong to the world of the living.

"Well… no point in just admiring it." Vergil thought, turning his attention back to the gigantic door before him.

But deep down, it wasn't the door itself that attracted him. What called to him was the energy behind it, whispering almost imperceptibly, like a voice in the darkness saying, "Come to me…"

Vergil kept advancing…

As he moved closer, he noticed something along the walls. Between the torches, symmetrically aligned, stood suits of black iron armor, motionless and silent.

He stopped in front of one.

"They don't look that old…" he murmured, his sharp gaze analyzing every detail of the piece.

Ever since he started living with Viviane, it was impossible not to pick up a thing or two about forging. Viola, in particular, always insisted on lengthy discussions about the subject, and he had overheard Viviane explaining to the maids about her time as the Lady of the Lake when she forged legendary weapons.

Vergil ran his fingers over the cold metal surface as he recalled her words.

"The important thing isn't just the polish, the rigidity, or the mana imbued… but the technique and the details…" he recited softly.

Viviane forged Excalibur. Her knowledge of metallurgy transcended eras. If there was something she understood, it was the art of crafting weapons and armor.

"A blacksmith is proud. Every work is made as if it were the last." He murmured, narrowing his eyes at the engravings on the armor.

There was perfection there.

Every fold in the metallic arm demonstrated meticulous care. The malleability of the black iron allowed for a precise fit to the body, ensuring agile movement without compromising defense.

This was no ordinary creation.

"Whoever forged this armor… is truly interesting," he said, rotating his wrist to better observe the joints. "I wonder who could have done such impeccable work for them to end up in a place like this…" Vergil let out an almost amused sigh.

Whoever the creator of these armors was, they weren't just a craftsman. They were an artist. Someone who, even within a dark domain, had poured their soul into every piece they forged.

Vergil released the armor and continued walking toward the immense iron door. His gaze analyzed every detail of the colossal structure while the purple flames danced around him, casting living shadows on the polished walls.

Then, he realized it.

The engravings on the dark surface of the door were not just random patterns… they formed something.

A black dragon.

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The creature seemed to emerge from the very darkness, its outstretched wings merging with the edges of the door, while its sharp claws extended as if ready to strike. The dragon's sculpted gaze was deep, almost lifelike, as if it were watching Vergil directly, waiting for something from him.

He raised his hand and touched the cold metal.

Nothing happened.

No magical reaction, no hidden mechanism activating, no shift in the energy around him. Only the absolute silence of the place, interrupted only by the distant crackling of the flames in the torches.

Vergil raised an eyebrow. "Hm… waiting for a password, perhaps?" he murmured, his fingers sliding along the dragon's engraving.

"So, what do you want me to do…?" he whispered, staring at the sculpted creature as if it could answer him.

The dragon's eyes glowed.

Two purple gemstones embedded in the creature's engraving pulsed with a sinister light, as if responding to Vergil's presence. The energy around the portal stirred, and then… a sound broke the silence.

Clang.

Metal shifting.

Vergil slowly turned his head, his senses already on alert.

Behind him, the black armors that had once been motionless began to tremble. Viscous shadows emerged from the ground, slithering like black serpents, crawling into the helmets and crevices of the armor. One by one, the iron knights came to life, their empty bodies now filled with a profane energy.

Slowly, each of them raised their sword.

Blades made of pure darkness took shape in their hands—weapons that pulsed as if alive, exuding a cold, cutting energy.

Vergil observed the scene with a sigh, pulling his hands out of his pockets.

"Of course… it's always like this," he muttered tiredly.

The first knight advanced.

With a precise movement, he swung his sword in a fierce arc, aiming for Vergil's neck. But before the blade could reach him, Vergil simply tilted his head to the side, dodging with minimal effort.

"Slow," he remarked.

Another attack came from a second knight, this time in a diagonal slash. Vergil stepped back, letting the black sword cut only through the empty space where he had stood a moment before.

Then, he smiled. "I think I understand what the test is."

The glow in the dragon's jeweled eyes grew even more intense. The death knights charged all at once.

Vergil exhaled, adjusting his posture as the death knights came at him like a tide of darkness.

Their movements were calculated, disciplined… but slow.

Vergil vanished from where he stood, and in an instant, he was already behind the first knight.

CRACK!

With a single strike of his bare hand, he tore through the enemy's armor, crushing it as if it were thin paper. The dark energy animating the body writhed for a brief moment, struggling to resist… but then, it was drawn into him. The knight collapsed to the ground like a useless pile of metal.

The second knight came at him with a vertical slash, attempting to cleave Vergil in half.

Without even looking, he raised his hand and caught the black blade between his fingers.

The sword trembled, trying to cut his skin, but Vergil remained motionless. His cold gaze turned to the knight, and with a slight squeeze, the blade shattered into thousands of dark fragments.

"Ridiculous."

Before the enemy could react, Vergil spun and delivered a brutal kick, piercing through the knight's armor and sending him crashing into the wall with a deafening impact. His body disintegrated into shadows, immediately absorbed by Vergil's presence.

The others hesitated for a second.

And then they all rushed at him at once.

Vergil disappeared.

When he reappeared, he was already among them.

BAM! A punch obliterated one of the knights.

CRACK! A kick decapitated another, sending his head flying.

SLASH! With a swift movement, he sliced through three at once with a black blade, summoned only for an instant, their shadows dissolving into the air.

One tried to strike him from behind. Without even looking, Vergil reached back and grabbed its head, crushing the helmet as if it were a lump of clay. The dark energy was absorbed into his body as if it had never existed.

The last two attempted to flee.

Vergil appeared in front of them before they could escape.

He raised his hand, and purple flames danced at his fingertips.

"Nice try. But not enough."

With a snap of his fingers, a fire of pure darkness consumed the two knights. They writhed, trying to resist, but within seconds, nothing remained but ashes.

Vergil sighed, glancing at the now silent corridor.

The energy of the knights—the same force that had animated those metal corpses—now coursed through him. He could feel it, pulsing in his veins, strengthening his power.

He turned to the dragon door.

The gemstones in its eyes glowed once more, as if acknowledging his strength.

And then, slowly… the door began to open.

The immense iron doors creaked as they parted, groaning as if they had not moved in centuries. A heavy air seeped from the darkness beyond the entrance, thick with the scent of ancient stone and something indescribable… a lingering trace of death soaked into the atmosphere.

Vergil, as always, shoved his hands into his pockets and stepped inside without hesitation. His gaze swept across the new chamber, analyzing what lay before him.

And then, he stopped.

At the very center of that vast space, a colossal creature lay motionless.

A bone dragon.

Its skeletal body stretched across the floor, exposed ribs rising like the beams of an abandoned cathedral. Its massive claws were embedded in the ground, and its partially destroyed skull bore fangs as large as swords. Traces of dark magic still flickered around its bones, like embers struggling not to fade.

Vergil narrowed his eyes.

This dragon hadn't been dead for long.

The energy it emitted, though faint, was still present. But something… something had brought it down.

He slowly walked toward the creature's shattered skull, kicking one of its fallen fangs to test it. It was heavy, dense—strong enough to pierce steel.

"Interesting…" he murmured.

The silence of the place was absolute. No guardians. No traps. Just that massive corpse.

Then, he felt it.

The dragon's energy reacted to his presence—weak, yet persistent, as if trying to communicate.

Vergil's expression remained impassive, but his instincts were sharpened.

Something was about to happen.

"A being capable of killing death… how amusing."

He heard it then—a voice without gender, layered with millions of others, speaking as one.