My Wives are Beautiful Demons Chapter 797: Heavenly Mother

Stepping through the door of light didn’t feel like teleportation.

Nor like magic.

Nor even like a dinsional shift.

It was like stepping through a thought too ancient to take form.

For a single instant, Vergil felt as if his entire existence had been observed, weighed, cataloged, and accepted before he even took his next step. There was no hostile pressure in that presence. No threat, no imdiate judgnt, no overwhelming display of power. What existed was sothing infinitely more disconcerting.

Absolute certainty.

Then the white disappeared.

Vergil erged onto a vast plain illuminated by an absurdly perfect blue sky. The wind was gentle, warm, carrying the clean scent of fresh grass and distant flowers. The sun shone above him with a comfortable golden light, without aggression, without excessive heat. Just pleasant. The kind of scenery that seed to exist exclusively to bring peace to any living creature that contemplated it.

The green grass moved slowly in natural waves around him, following the wind like a silent ocean. Small white flowers grew among the vegetation, scattered without any apparent pattern, and golden butterflies crossed the air in lazy movents. In the distance, gentle mountains rose on the horizon under a light mist, while isolated trees swayed slowly like tranquil guardians of that impossible place.

Vergil remained motionless for a few seconds.

Then he let out a small sigh.

And smiled.

Not an arrogant smile.

Nor a provocative one.

Just genuinely satisfied.

"It’s quite beautiful."

His voice was softly lost in the wind.

There were no golden walls, angelic choirs, or monuntal thrones in that place. No theatrical display of divine supremacy. It seed more like a personal refuge than the absolute center of creation.

And, strangely...

It made sense.

Vergil began to walk slowly across the plain, his hands in his pockets as he observed the surrounding scenery. The ground was soft beneath his feet, and the air carried an uncomfortably familiar feeling. Unfamiliar in the physical sense. Deeper than that.

That place seed to know whoever entered it.

Not like a territory recognizing visitors.

But like a house recognizing soone who had once belonged to the family.

Vergil realized this imdiately.

"...Hm."

The wind blew gently against his silver hair as he walked across the endless grass. Then, in the distance, sothing caught his attention.

A small white table rested alone in the middle of the plain.

Above it was an elegant parasol of light fabric, its shadow swaying delicately in the golden sunlight. A refined porcelain set was laid out on the table along with a steaming teapot, delicate small desserts, and a perfectly arranged fruit basket.

And soone was sitting there.

Even from that distance, Vergil felt it imdiately.

The presence didn’t overwhelm the world around it.

The world simply organized itself naturally around it.

He observed the figure for a few seconds in silence.

Then she disappeared.

A gentle shift ripped through the space, and Vergil instantly appeared before the tea table, the wind slightly moving the white tablecloth as his presence settled.

The seated figure looked up at him.

And smiled.

Vergil imdiately let out a tired sigh.

"Of course."

The person before him possessed a beauty almost unsettling to behold directly. Long golden hair cascaded over her shoulders like strands of liquid light, reflecting the brilliance of the surrounding sun. Her golden eyes were soft, warm, and ancient in a way impossible to calculate. Not ancient like ruins.

Ancient like stars.

She wore light-colored clothes adorned with delicate golden details, elegant without seeming overly majestic. Large, luminous wings rested partially open behind her, emitting tiny golden particles that vanished in the wind before touching the ground.

She delicately rested a teacup between her fingers as she observed Vergil with evident amusent.

"Hello, grandson."

The voice was soft.

Calm.

And it carried an absurd familiarity.

Vergil closed his eyes for a second.

"...So it was you."

She let out a low, lodious laugh before taking another sip of tea.

"You seem disappointed."

"I’m trying to decide if this explains a lot or makes absolutely everything worse."

The entity before him smiled even more.

Vergil remained observing her for a few seconds in silence. Then he pulled a chair from the table and sat slowly in front of her, resting his arm on the backrest as he carefully analyzed that impossible figure.

"It seems you heard my request last ti."

She tilted her head slightly.

"Hmm?"

Vergil discreetly pointed at her.

"Appearing in a female form."

This elicited another small laugh from the supre being.

"Ah... that."

She delicately placed the cup on the saucer before elegantly crossing her legs under the white table.

"Being an absolute being doesn’t necessarily an possessing a fixed gender." Her golden eyes rested calmly on Vergil. "In fact, I am agender."

Vergil raised an eyebrow.

"Technically consistent."

"Thank you."

She then rested her face on one hand, smiling with slight amusent.

"I can be male or female. It makes no real difference to ." Her golden hair swayed gently in the wind. "I created you anyway."

Vergil remained silent for a full two seconds.

"...That sounds strangely threatening when said casually over tea."

"That wasn’t the intention."

"But it worked."

She laughed again.

And that was perhaps the most unsettling part.

The supre entity responsible for the creation of reality didn’t seem distant.

It didn’t seem cold.

It didn’t seem incomprehensible.

It just seed...

Like a mother relaxing on a pleasant afternoon.

Vergil looked around once more.

The endless plain.

The warm wind.

The perfectly brewed tea.

The flowers swaying slowly.

Then he turned his eyes to her.

"You chose this deliberately."

"Of course."

"Why?"

She raised her cup again.

"Because you hate overly ceremonial environnts."

Vergil was silent.

"...Fair enough."

"Besides," she continued softly, "you’ve already spent too much ti in dark places." That sentence made the wind seem slightly quieter around them.

Vergil looked away for a mont.

She noticed imdiately.

Naturally.

"You inherited a lot from him," she comnted calmly.

Vergil let out a small sigh through his nose.

"Lucifer."

"Yes."

There was no need for titles in that place.

Nor formalities.

Nor fear.

She delicately picked up a small sweet from the table and observed it for a mont before continuing.

"Pride. Stubbornness. A tendency to challenge superior structures simply because they exist." A small smile appeared on her lips. "You even inherited the irritating habit of answering questions with sarcasm."

Vergil rested his face on one hand.

"You’re describing half the celestial family."

"Yes." She nodded calmly. "But you do it with more style."

Vergil almost smiled.

Almost.

She then tilted her head slightly as she observed her grandson before her with genuine attention.

"But you also inherited sothing he lost too soon."

Vergil slowly raised his eyes.

"What?"

"The capacity to love without turning it into possession."

The silence between them grew heavier.

The wind continued to blow gently across the endless plain, moving the grass around the tea table in slow, tranquil waves.

Vergil didn’t answer imdiately... He just laughed.

"HAHAHA— You really don’t know at all." He spoke, his eyes gleaming, "I love people so much that they beco mine."

"They beco yours because they love you back, not because you love them. You’re quite foolish with your worldly thoughts."

Vergil looked at her, "Philosophy is bullshit," he muttered irritably and sat down in his chair.

Vergil’s laughter still seed to echo softly across the plain as the wind once more swept through the green fields around the tea table. Waves of grass danced under the golden sunlight as tiny white petals lazily drifted through the air, carried by a warm, comforting breeze. The entity before him rely observed his grandson’s reaction with a patient gaze, like soone accustod for ages to dealing with creatures too proud to admit certain emotional truths.

Vergil rested his elbow on the white table and looked away for a mont, clearly irritated by the philosophical direction the conversation had taken. His fingers drumd slowly on the impeccable porcelain as he breathed deeply through his nose.

"Philosophy is bullshit."

The supre entity let out a small, low, elegant laugh, clearly amused by his almost aggressive honesty. The sound seed to blend naturally with the wind and the movent of the grass, as if the entire world accepted her voice as part of the landscape itself.

"That opinion usually arises in people who have spent too much ti thinking."

Vergil narrowed his eyes.

"Or in people tired of hearing abstract answers to concrete problems."

"Also fair."

She picked up her teacup again and took a small sip with absolute tranquility. There was no hurry in her movents. No tension. Not the slightest sign of authority being imposed. And perhaps that was precisely what made her presence so disconcerting.

Everything around her seed naturally correct.

Vergil observed this for a few seconds before finally sighing.

"That reminds of an important question."

She tilted her head slightly.

"Oh?"

"What exactly should I call you?"

The entity blinked slowly, as if the question were genuinely difficult. Then she leaned back slightly in her chair while thinking, her golden hair flowing smoothly over her shoulders in the sunlight.

"Hmmm..."

She gazed at the sky for a few monts in extrely serious contemplation.

Vergil waited.

After a few seconds, she turned her golden eyes back to him.

"How about... Celeste?"

Vergil raised an eyebrow.

"Celeste."

"Yes." She nodded calmly. "Sounds appropriate."

"You just made that up."

"Technically, all nas were invented at so point."

Vergil brought his hand to his face.

"You’re absurdly difficult to argue with."

She smiled with quiet satisfaction.

"Thank you."

Vergil let out a small, involuntary chuckle through his nose and shook his head slowly.

"You’re funny."

That seed to please her more than it should have.

Her smile beca slightly warr as she gently placed the cup on the saucer.

"It’s all a matter of perspective."

"That phrase sounds like sothing a cosmic entity would say before causing an existential crisis."

"And it usually works."

Vergil observed her for a few more seconds. The longer he spent in her presence, the stranger everything seed. Not because she was terrifying. Quite the opposite.

She seed too human.

Too natural.

It was difficult to reconcile that relaxed figure drinking tea on a sunny plain with the idea of ​​the absolute mind responsible for all existence. Part of him almost hoped that it was a carefully constructed mask to facilitate interactions.

But another part of him sensed sothing more unsettling.

Perhaps that really was his personality.

Celeste then tilted her head slightly, observing him with gentle attention.

"Now..." Her golden eyes glead discreetly in the sunlight. "Why exactly did you want to talk to ?"

Vergil leaned back slightly in his chair.

"You probably already know."

"I know many things." She replied calmly. "But I prefer to hear people say it in their own words."

Vergil let out a small, tired sigh.

"That sounds like sophisticated emotional manipulation."

"It’s healthy communication."

"I disagree."

She completely ignored the comnt.

"Besides..." Her smile beca slightly provocative. "The last ti I tried to approach you, I was completely ignored."

Vergil was silent for a mont.

The wind blew between them again, moving the white tablecloth as so golden petals drifted slowly through the air.

"...You picked a bad ti."