My Wives are Beautiful Demons - Chapter 347

Chapter 347: Salem
‘”Hehehe” Seris laughed… a crystal clear, enveloping laugh that seemed to intertwine with the very air around them. She stretched with the feline grace of someone who knew exactly the effect she had, lying on her side in the grass like a living painting against that unreal paradise.

Her body curved with provocative naturalness, and the fabrics she wore, if they could be called clothes… floated around her like enchanted veils, revealing enough to provoke, but hiding enough to mesmerize. Her eyes were fixed on Vergil with an indecipherable gleam: part desire, part curiosity, part… something ancient and inhuman.

“Do you underestimate me that much?” she said, her voice low and warm as wine at dusk. “This place is only a fraction of my imagination… I created it so as not to scare you right away.”

She approached with lazy, fluid movements, as if the world had been made to bow to her gestures. Vergil tried to keep his gaze on the sky, trying to maintain his composure—but he felt her presence approaching like a flame that knew exactly where to burn.

“I could welcome you in a tower of bones, with the sky on fire and demons singing ancient hymns… but I thought that would be, hmm…” she paused, resting her face in her hand as she stared at him with a crooked smile “…unromantic.”

Vergil slowly turned his head to face her, his eyes narrowed. “And what is this? Your plan of seduction?”

“Seduction?” She laughed again, a light sound that made the flowers around them open even wider. “Darling… if I were seducing you, you would have forgotten your own name by now.” Her possessive gaze was trying to consume him.

“What I’m doing now… is just being sincere.” Her eyes locked onto his. “You’re fascinating. I thought Morgana was joking when she praised you and told me about you. But when I saw you just now, I really felt compelled to understand more.”

Vergil took a deep breath, feeling her touch echo deeper than it should—not just on his skin, but in his essence, as if she could leaf through his soul like the pages of a forgotten diary.

“Damn… another possessive madwoman…” Vergil thought.

“I just want to… understand you better.” She smiled, leaning slowly until their faces were dangerously close. Her scent was sweet and intoxicating, like a forbidden flower. Her voice came out in a whisper:

“Or maybe I just like to play with things I can break later.”

Vergil kept his gaze steady, despite the chill that ran down his spine.

“You’ll have to try harder than that to break me, Queen of Witches.”

Seris laughed again, satisfied with his response.

“You have no idea how much that phrase excites me.” Seris smiled with her eyes half-closed, a mischievous gleam dancing in her irises as if she had just discovered a new toy.

Then she clapped her hands once, twice—a delicate, almost childlike gesture.

But the effect was anything but simple.

The world around Vergil dissolved like paint running down a canvas. The grass beneath his body dissolved into sparkling particles, the sky swirled into spirals of liquid light, and the air itself seemed to sing for a brief moment before everything calmed down…

…and he found himself sitting.

In a white carved wooden chair, delicate as antique porcelain. In front of him, a long, narrow tea table, entirely white, covered with a lace tablecloth and adorned with a steaming teapot, cups ornamented with arcane symbols, silverware that reflected stars—everything ethereal, surreal. The whole ensemble seemed to float above the clouds, like a painting dreamed up by a brilliant… and slightly insane mind.

The sky around him was an almost unreal blue, tinged with gold and lilac. The clouds moved slowly, like great celestial ships, and the air smelled of lavender, ancient incense… and something sweet, almost addictive.

Vergil blinked, trying to understand how he had ended up there.

His eyes lowered, and he saw.

Beneath the clouds was a city—but not like any other city. It was made of twisted towers, floating spirals, and bridges that crossed the void without any support. There were gardens suspended in midair, stars that danced like fireflies around the towers, and winged creatures made of shadow and light that crossed the skies like messengers from a realm without rules.

Everything glowed with an ancient, primordial energy. Wild. Beautiful. Dangerous.

“This is Salem,” said Seris, sitting at the other end of the table, already holding a cup in her hands. Her dress now looked like it was made of black mist with fragments of moonlight sewn into its hem. The smile on her face was as inviting as it was disturbing.

“The world of Witches.”

She made an elegant gesture with her hand and a cup slid by itself to Vergil, filling itself in the process with a purple liquid that bubbled slowly, as if it were alive.

“I don’t like having visitors… Male ones, you know…” she said, crossing her legs and watching him with dangerously calm eyes. “But you… ah, you’re special.”

Vergil looked around, the cup still untouched.

“This… isn’t real.”

Seris smiled wider, with the patience of someone who knew something he didn’t yet understand.

“Everything that’s real starts as a spell, Vergil.” She raised her cup, toasting the air. “And welcome to my favorite spell.”

…

Meanwhile…

Katharina paced back and forth, arms crossed and teeth clenched.

Ada bit her nails so hard she looked ready to rip off her finger.

Roxanne muttered unkind words about the Witch Queen, her footsteps forming a useless pattern on the floor, as if she could conjure up an answer with the right movement.

The three walked in circles, frantic, restless… and then — BAM!

“Ouch!”

“Damn it, Ada!”

“You’re the one who doesn’t watch where you’re going, Katharina!”

“Roxanne, you’re in the way too, you clumsy oaf!”

The three collided right in the center of the collective panic, their foreheads hitting with a simultaneous thud. They staggered back, rubbing their foreheads and glaring at each other.

That’s when Sapphire’s voice cut through the air like a blade tempered with irritation and authority:

“CALM DOWN, YOU CLUMSY FOOLS! HE’S FINE!”

Silence fell like a hammer blow.

Sapphire stood a few feet away, the note now reduced to ashes in her hand. Her eyes glowed in intense emerald tones, sparkling with restrained anger.

Katharina snorted and crossed her arms.

Ada was still massaging her forehead.

Roxanne raised her finger with a theoretical air:

“Technically, if he were dead, the contract—”

“SHUT UP, ROXANNE!” Katharina and Ada said at the same time.

Sapphire just sighed, looking out the window, where Seris’s magical cracks had completely disappeared.

“Damn witch…” she muttered, almost with a touch of respect. “We’ll bring him back. Even if I have to cross Salem with my fists.”