My Wives are Beautiful Demons Chapter 364: A dirty plan

Chapter 364: A dirty plan.

“Answer , Empress. Show that you still have teeth. Or will you accept being forgotten?”

And then he fell silent.

Waiting.

Breath held.

The provocation was fulfilled.

The board is ready.

For a mont, it seed that silence would triumph once again.

But the Orb… pulsed.

Not as before—not with the ancestral, constant rhythm, but with sothing new. Profound. A primordial tremor, as if the core of the universe had contracted for an instant. As if sothing forgot to exist, only to rember with greater violence.

The ground shook beneath Vergil’s feet. Not a physical tremor—it was the vibration of aning. Reality itself frowned.

The sky lost its color.

The air lost its density.

And then, like a muffled roar from a buried world, ca the voice.

Not audible. Not physical. It arose within him, like lightning that seeks not the sky, but the soul.

“You dare to shout before an empty throne, as if the dust were deaf. Provocative fool…”

The voice was female, but not mortal. Not human. It was the voice of ages compressed into syllables, of empires that existed before ti had a na. Each word was a blow to the mind — and yet there was a cruel elegance, an unstoppable majesty to it.

Vergil staggered a step backward, but did not fall. His eyes wide. His breath caught between defiance and reverence.

“The Scarlet does not surpass . She crawls. As she has always crawled, covered in red not for glory… but for the blood of others.”

The Orb glowed like a furious sun. The veins of golden light expanded, becoming flaming serpents running across its surface — the patterns did not dance: they fought. Lines of war. Of domination.

“She screams to be noticed, throws herself into the arms of the first fallen daughter she finds, as if chaos were an argunt. I don’t scream. I breathe. And when I breathe… the heavens fall silent to listen.”

The air beca thick as molten smoke. The world seed to bow. Sothing was wrong with ti. The wind froze in the middle of a whirlwind — and stayed there, suspended, as if even it were waiting for the next step.

Vergil gritted his teeth.

“Then speak,” he growled, his fists clenched. “Speak to truly. If you still have a voice, if you still rember what it is to rule — show more than shadow and poison.”

“You do not challenge , mortal. You call to . And that is more dangerous than you understand.”

The vibration increased—and for a mont, he saw her.

Not with his eyes, but with his spirit. A vast, imnse form, crowned with crests of light and teeth of ages. Scales of living tal. A pair of platinum eyes, cold as the world’s first night.

A dragon—not a beast. A goddess. An empress.

And she was staring at him.

“I was fire before the Sun dared to burn.” The voice now filled everything. “I was crown when the world was still gray and naless. The Scarlet is chaos disguised as urgency. I am order that drags universes by the horns.”

Vergil felt his knees buckle, but forced himself to stand. Sweaty. Panting. Arrogant.

“Then choose. Use . Wake up. Stop pretending that waiting is strategy. If she dominates first, no one will rember your order. They will rember the destruction. And the fear.”

The Orb shook. Thunder echoed without clouds.

“You are not worthy.”

Vergil laughed. Not because he found it funny — but because it was all that remained in the face of the abyss.

“I’ve been told that before. They’re usually dead afterwards.”

For the first ti, the presence hesitated. As if… smiling.

“Your insolence is what condemns you… and what intrigues .”

The Orb’s glow slowly dimd, but did not go out. The heat, however, remained. It was like standing before a furnace that held its breath — but at any mont, it could set the firmant ablaze.

“Not yet.” The word ca firm, final. But there was another layer to it — as if the door had opened slightly.

“But you make think.”

Vergil was silent for a long ti. His heart racing. His throat dry. But his eyes still full of defiance.

He crouched down and placed the Orb on the makeshift pedestal with reverence. Not submission — but respect. Respect for sothing that could crush him between thoughts.

“Don’t choose . Just listen to . Because in the end… when the world falls again, I’ll be the last one screaming.”

He turned to leave, his steps slow, his body exhausted. But before he took his first step…

“Vergil.”

It was the first ti she had said his na. Not as a provocation. As recognition.

“Dragons don’t forget.” Her voice was almost a whisper now, like the end of distant thunder. ‘And I am… waking up.’

The light from the Orb flickered. And for a mont, the shadows around them trembled as if a colossal eye had blinked from within reality.

“I did it…” Vergil smiled. After all, he had the perfect plan ford in his head.

The ga had begun.

…

[On the other side]

The hall was quiet.

Too quiet.

Not the kind of silence that brings peace, but the kind that precedes a rupture. Like the mont between lightning and thunder. Like the slow pull of a blade that knows the taste of blood.

Sepphirothy took a step forward.

His presence was sharp, like wind in a forbidden place. His clothes danced gently in the mana-laden air, but his eyes were fixed on a single point: Runeas Gremory’s necklace.

More precisely, on what hung from its center—the Scarlet Orb.

And the Orb… looked back at her.

The red light pulsed, alive, as if recognizing her approach. It was not a decorative glow. It was not a jewel. It was an eye. It was a voice. It was a sentence condensed into crystal.

Runeas took a deep breath, her fingers instinctively brushing the Orb. The room seed to shrink around the two of them.

And then, the Empress spoke.

Not Runeas. She.

The voice pierced her flesh without warning. It touched Sepphirothy’s spirit directly—as if soone had blown fire into her mind.

“You…”

The word ca out slurred, numbing, like ancient, poisoned wine. A female voice, sumptuous, laden with raw power and impatient desire. An echo that seed to have been carved in stone, kept for millennia, now released with a single sigh.

“You dare to look at as if we were equals.”