My Wives are Beautiful Demons

The journey back was silent, but not uncomfortable. The three beside him... Ada, Roxanne and Katharina seemed to refuse to let him move even a centimeter away. And he let them. For the first time in a long time, Vergil didn't feel the urge to run, or the unease of facing the Witch Queen.

He just wanted to go home and get some rest.

The mansion came into view as they approached, was it graceful? Yes, imposing? Quite, but it was just "Home, Sweet Home". Of course, especially as it was the place where Vergil had spent the most time in the Underworld. The Agares Mansion.

As soon as they crossed the gates, the metallic sound of them closing behind them marked the official end of his imprisonment.

Vergil had barely taken two steps across the entrance garden when he heard it - small, hurried footsteps, pounding against the marble of the inner corridor. A light but vibrant sound, like the trotting of a happy heart.

And then she appeared.

A little girl with wavy black hair, tied up in two crooked braids, wearing a light black and lilac dress that swayed as she ran barefoot. Her eyes carried the kind of light that didn't belong in that world.

There was joy there. There was hope. And well... a lot of magical theories behind that look.

"Alice...?" Vergil barely had time to ask.

"FATHER!!!" the scream came before the impact.

She threw herself at him with surprising force, her thin arms wrapping around his neck with the absolute confidence of someone who knows she'll be held. And Vergil held her, instinctively, as if his arms were made for that gesture.

For an instant, everything stopped.

There was no hell, no prison, no containment runes or demons lurking at the edges of reality.

There was only Alice, her face pressed into his shoulder, smiling and crying at the same time.

He held her firmly, lifting her with ease. His gaze traveled over her face, surprised - and something softened in his hardened eyes.

"You've... grown," he said, still amazed. "You're almost my size now." Alice laughed with the innocence that only childhood provides. "Liar! You're still more than a meter taller than me! Or almost."

Vergil smiled.

"You don't even look like that skinny little girl... all dirty, bruised, with eyes full of fear..." He looked at her more closely, feeling her aura - stable, protected, charged with soft magic. "You were just a shadow. Now... you're shining."

Alice puffed out her chest, proud. "Mother Ada taught me to read new languages! Mother Katharina taught me how to hit demons - hard! And Mother Roxanne... she sneaks me sweets, but pretends she doesn't!"

Roxanne, behind him, sniffled with ill-concealed guilt. Ada just smiled. Katharina pretended not to hear.

Vergil shook his head, still holding Alice.

'It's funny... I think I wasted too much time letting Morgana look after her, that I forgot to pay attention. I'm a really bad father. Vergil thought with a crooked smile.

"So I disappear for a while... and you become a mixture of archaeologist, warrior and candy thief?" He joked, his eyes still on her. "You really have become my daughter."

'Although I find it worrying to leave this little girl with that pervert. It seems she's done a good job... her Demon Energy has already reached a stage compared to Alexa's, or even Ada's...'

If someone were to ask Vergil about a general ranking of those he hung out with, he would probably let out a bored sigh before answering. But if he were honest, he would say yes: even among the closest circles, there was a well-defined chain of power.

And what really surprised him was Alice.

Even at such a young age, just over twelve, Alice already exuded a kind of power that didn't match her age. It wasn't just raw magic - it was potential. The aura of someone who could one day be among the titans. And at times, Vergil swore that she was already closer to the top than many older and more trained people.

But as she descended the ladder of strength and influence, the positions began to align themselves more clearly.

Among the weakest who had crossed her path, Iridia and Zex were easily at the bottom of the pyramid because they were human, or rather superhuman. Not because of incompetence, but because they simply had neither the spark nor the ambition. They didn't even ask Vergil to revive them as Demons through ritual.

Alexa came next. Although she showed some skill, the problem was the unknown. Vergil never saw the full extent of her power, which automatically put her in an unstable position. The potential was there, but the use of it was still a mystery.

Ada, Katharina and Roxanne formed the next rung - the heiresses. United by ties and training, but with clear distinctions. Ada was methodical, precise.

Katharina, impetuous, wild. But Roxanne was the most powerful of the three, not just in strength, but in dominance. She understood her own power. She played with her weapons... and knew when to use them.

Just above her were Viviane and Morgana. Women of considerable power, far beyond the heirs, but still short of what one would expect from the Demon Queens. Viviane and Morgana were pure magic - but neither of them reached the level of controlled destruction that the real Queens displayed.

And that's when the ranking started to get interesting.

Of the four Queens of Hell, Raphaeline was, in Vergil's view, the weakest. Still, being "the weakest" among Queens was like being the least hungry wolf in a pack. Then Cabernet, with her military coolness and lethal discipline. And then Stella, whose unpredictability and intelligence made her perhaps the most dangerous, even if she wasn't the most powerful in raw terms.

But none of this compared to the Archons...

At the top of the cosmic board, the pieces moved by themselves.

Paimon was the weakest woman among the three main Archons. She was a bit sloppy. Limited in comparison. Phenex came out on top, with an ancient power of destruction and regeneration. And then Astaroth, whose mere presence distorted reality. A true pillar of chaos and knowledge.

And beyond them all, at the absolute summit...

Three names stood like eternal mountains:

Amon, the tyrant. Force incarnate, authority in the form of flesh.

Sapphire, That Spartan! Absolute and Untouchable.

And Sepphirothy, her dear mother who, after all, was one of the Primordials.

These three weren't just above in power. They were above in purpose.

Vergil knew...

"All right, now that I'm back..." He muttered, putting Alice down. "Where's Morgana?" He questioned, haughtily.