My Wives are Beautiful Demons - Chapter 341

Chapter 341: Demon’s Move
“I’m not someone who talks a lot,” said the man with a quiet, almost casual smile, as he stared at the troupe of demons gathered in front of him. His eyes shone with a cruel, lazy gleam, and his tail swayed slowly behind him, like that of a bored predator.

“But hello, everyone. I have a little report for you…” He paused dramatically, amplifying the discomfort in the air. “Let’s just say that someone – a fool, to be sure – has decided to invade the Underworld.”

There was a slight buzz among the demons, interrupted by the man’s even wider smile.

“Buer has been attacked.”

The silence that followed was almost solid. No words, just tension. The demons clenched their fists, their eyes narrowed. Not that they liked the Buer clan – in fact, most of them despised them. But what mattered was the principle. The affront. The challenge.

And that… that would not be tolerated.

In the background, the constant, mournful sound of wailing souls echoed through the black rocks of the abyss. Long, drawn-out, endless wails. Begging for help.

But here, in that place, no one would answer them.

There, they were no longer people. They were food.

The man’s tail moved again, with animalistic precision and grace. He captured a floating soul and brought it to his mouth. An instant of silence… and then:

Crunch.

The dry crack broke through the air like muffled thunder.

“…Someone is trying to sow chaos in my army,” he said, still smiling, wiping his teeth with his fingernail. “But he’s failed. Miserably.”

His eyes scanned the row of demonic faces before him. No one dared look away.

“Demons have been killing each other for hundreds of thousands of years. It’s our nature. We never stop. Not even for a second. Even now, with some of us domesticated… wearing polished, well-fitting golden collars.”

He turned slightly, looking behind the throne of blackened bones that stood like a monument of cruelty.

“I’ll even admit… the society plan created by Amon, together with Paimon, Phenex and Astaroth, sounds… nice.” He spoke the word with contempt disguised as sarcasm. “A refined idea. Order amongst chaos.”

He pointed beyond the black columns, where an abyss of purple light was slowly turning.

“Nowadays, anyone who breaks those ‘rules’ dies, or is imprisoned. And their souls… pass through there.”

The glow of the portal between the realms vibrated with the echoing cries. It was the Between Realms, the threshold between the Underworld and Hell – where souls suffered their penance, where they paid for their cycles, only to be recycled and sent back to the mortal world.

“And you want to know what that means?” he continued, turning back to his army. His smile had disappeared. His tone was now icy. “It means we’re being watched. Controlled. And someone wants to break that leash. He used Buer as a test. A provocative move.”

He walked to the center of the room, his armor clinking low. The shadows curved around his feet.

“Make no mistake. That wasn’t just an attack. It was a warning.” He stopped. “And we will respond.”

The crimson glow in his eyes intensified.

“With blood.”

…

“Ahhh…” Astaroth yawned longingly, throwing his head back as he looked at Amon with a lazy expression. The two were sitting in the middle of what was supposed to be a strategy meeting, but which looked more like a coffee break in hell.

“Did you kill Buer?” Amon asked bluntly, his eyes fixed on Astaroth with restrained intensity.

Astaroth shrugged distractedly, twirling a coin between his fingers. “He was gathering a little group for a rebellion. A little fifth-rate theater with third-rate demons.” He rolled his eyes. “I had to stop it. You know how it is…”

“And instead of reporting it…” Amon continued, his voice calm but sharp as a blade, “…you just killed him?”

“Hey, slow down.” Astaroth held up his hands, smiling. “I didn’t exactly kill him. He’s almost dead. Like… ninety-nine point nine percent. He’s still breathing… sometimes.” He blinked, innocently.

Amon sighed, wiping his hand across his face.

“Now, about the invasion of the Underworld…” Astaroth stretched out in his chair, crossing his legs. “I’ll bet you a hundred thousand dollars it was someone whose name starts with V and ends with Lucifer.” He gave a sly smile. “Classic him, huh?”

Amon, however, didn’t react. He just kept his gaze fixed on the floor for a moment, thoughtful.

“No,” he muttered. “It wasn’t the boy. That’s for sure.”

Astaroth arched an eyebrow, curious. “Really? Then who the hell had the guts to mess around here?”

Amon looked up, and his voice became deeper, denser. “I have a hunch. A name that no one dares mention without weight…”

Astaroth leaned forward, interested.

Amon spoke, dryly. “The Witch Queen.”

The reaction was immediate.

Astaroth froze for a second… and then fell off his chair with a metallic clang.

“You’re kidding, right? Say you’re kidding.” His voice came muffled from the floor. “That crazy ancestor with the power to break continents? That witch that even Hell wouldn’t hold?” He crawled back into his chair with wide eyes. “Man, if it really is her… we’re so screwed, even the cycle of souls won’t do it!”

Amon crossed his arms, his countenance still pensive. “Well… at least we know that Buer’s case has nothing to do with her.”

He spoke with an almost offensive calmness.

Astaroth stared at his friend in astonishment. “How can you be so calm?! You’ve just said, in no uncertain terms, that the Queen of Bloody Witches may have invaded the Underworld!”

Amon let out a lazy yawn, leaning back slightly. “If she did it, I know exactly why. So it’s not like it’s a surprise.” He stretched out his arms, as if preparing to lie down. “By the way… I need to get some sleep.”

“SLEEP?!” Astaroth almost ran up the walls. “You’re saying that the most feared witch in existence may have crossed the veil between the realms and decided to take a nap? HAVE YOU GONE MAD?”

Amon merely arched an eyebrow, impassive. “Didn’t you see Sepphirothy and Sapphire leave here earlier? Those two idiots drew too much attention to themselves. The result: now the Witch Queen knows we’re on the move.”

“DAMN IT, I TOLD YOU SO!” Astaroth exploded, walking in circles. “I told you it was a bad idea to let that kid loose! And YOU swore it wasn’t his fault!”

“And it’s not.” Amon shrugged, almost laughing at the dramatic reaction. “It’s the fault of whoever has a thing with him. It’s different.”

Astaroth stopped, with an expression of pure despair. “…You’ve just given the most useless excuse in the history of the Seven Hells.”

“It’s not an excuse,” Amon muttered, his eyes already closing. “It’s just hellish politics working as usual: someone stirs up a hornet’s nest, someone else gets stung.”

“And guess who’s going to have to deal with the swarm…” Astaroth grumbled.

“Him,” Amon replied automatically, already leaning back and practically dozing off. “Good luck to him.”