My Wives are Beautiful Demons

Vergil remained in front of Niddrog for a few seconds, still processing the almost ridiculous scale of the misunderstanding.

The more he reorganized the facts, the worse it became.

The Valkyries had been forcibly thrown into that domain by an unknown entity. Niddrog had found them before they died in the lower regions of Yggdrasil, gathered them all together, placed them in a safe state, and waited for someone to come looking for them.

Then he had arrived, seen thousands of unconscious women inside what looked like a nest, immediately concluded that the great root-devouring dragon was responsible, and unleashed two Celestial Dragons to turn part of the World Tree into a war of biblical proportions.

Looking at the entire sequence with some emotional distance, Vergil realized that Niddrog had perfectly reasonable reasons to be angry.

He sighed, turned toward the three little culprits beside him, and placed one hand on each of their heads.

Qliphoth, Crymsaria, and Nivara realized too late what was about to happen.

Vergil pushed all three heads down at the same time, forcing them to bow before Niddrog.

Qliphoth let out a muffled protest.

Crymsaria tried to resist out of pure pride.

Nivara simply closed her eyes, accepting the humiliation with the expression of someone beginning to reconsider every decision that had led her there.

"Apologize."

"But I—" Crymsaria began.

Vergil pressed her head down a little harder.

"Sorry," she muttered immediately.

Qliphoth spoke next, her voice miserable beneath the enormous idiot cone.

"Sorry for stealing energy, setting things on fire, and... probably for other things we haven’t discovered yet."

Nivara remained silent for several seconds before speaking with painfully wounded dignity.

"I apologize for the incorrect interpretation of the situation and for the damage caused during the response."

Crymsaria turned her eyes toward her.

"Even when apologizing, you sound like a report."

"Quiet," Nivara muttered.

Vergil finally released the three, but remained in front of Niddrog.

This time, his expression was serious.

"And I apologize too. I was worried about my subordinates and acted before I fully understood what was happening. When I saw thousands of them unconscious inside your territory, I didn’t think they were being protected. I assumed the worst and responded accordingly."

Niddrog crossed her arms and snorted loudly, turning her face partially away.

Even in humanoid form, there was something deeply draconic about every reaction she made.

The way she puffed out her chest, the obvious irritation in her brows, and the small movement of her lips looked far more like an offended territorial creature than a woman accustomed to diplomacy.

"I was doing something good," she complained. "And I got hurt."

Vergil was about to answer when Niddrog discreetly pulled back part of the fabric covering one arm and showed a small purple mark near her elbow.

After everything that had just happened—dragons crashing through roots, spacetime tearing apart, celestial rain of fire, and billions of ice spikes—the injury was almost offensively small.

A simple bruise.

Niddrog pointed at it as though displaying a mortal wound.

"Look."

Vergil stared for two seconds.

Crymsaria looked too.

Qliphoth tilted her head.

Even Nivara opened one eye to check.

Yggdrasil discreetly brought a hand to her forehead.

Vergil, however, smiled.

He approached Niddrog and grabbed her arm without asking permission, turning it slightly to inspect the bruise more closely.

The reaction was immediate.

Niddrog went rigid, her eyes widened, and a reddish tint quickly appeared on her cheeks.

"Hey! Let go!"

"Stay still."

"I told you to let go!"

Vergil did not seem particularly concerned.

The smile remained small and gentle as his demonic energy first surrounded the injured area, removing any residue left behind by Crymsaria’s energy, Nivara’s, or the instabilities generated by the battle itself.

The black miasma moved over Niddrog’s skin without harming her, cleansing the energetic contamination until only the ordinary bruise remained.

"I’m going to heal it."

Her complaint died before it came out.

Then came the sacred energy.

A soft golden light appeared between Vergil’s fingers and entered her skin.

The contrast between the demonic power from only seconds earlier and that clean energy made Niddrog look directly at his hand, curious despite her embarrassment.

The bruise faded within a few seconds, changing from violet to red and then back to her normal skin tone until it disappeared completely.

Vergil released her arm.

"Are you hurt anywhere else?"

Niddrog immediately placed a hand over the spot he had just healed, rubbing it as though she wanted to confirm it was truly intact.

The blush remained on her cheeks.

She shook her head, this time without any arrogance.

"No."

Vergil nodded.

"Good."

Niddrog looked away and murmured so quietly that it would have been almost impossible to hear without his perception.

"Thank you."

On the other side, Yggdrasil watched the scene without saying anything.

Her outward expression remained serene, but internally, a fairly simple conclusion passed through her consciousness.

That shitty dragon can actually be pretty cute when she wants to.

She did not specify which of the two.

Maybe she did not need to.

Yggdrasil then looked toward the damaged regions of her own domain.

Even from high in her canopy, she could feel dozens of broken roots, sections frozen by Nivara’s authority, areas burned by Crymsaria’s celestial sun, and dimensional scars opened by Niddrog’s attacks.

Recovery would not be particularly difficult for an entity like her, but it would require attention, redistribution of energy, and a few hours without three dragons causing new problems.

"Vergil."

He turned.

"Don’t you want to take this thing away for a while?"

Niddrog immediately looked at Yggdrasil.

"This thing?!"

Yggdrasil pointed at the damaged roots.

"Until I fix this."

"I live here!"

"And you helped destroy it."

"They started it!"

Crymsaria raised one tiny hand.

"Technically—"

Nivara pulled her arm back down.

Yggdrasil slowly raised her fingers into the exact position of someone about to snap them.

Niddrog froze.

Her eyes went to Qliphoth.

Then to Crymsaria.

Then to Nivara.

The three small figures wearing idiot cones were evidence enough of what that gesture meant.

Niddrog immediately raised both hands.

"Sorry."

Yggdrasil kept her fingers ready.

Niddrog quickly added:

"I don’t want to become a small human."

Qliphoth turned her face, offended.

"That’s called a child."

Niddrog looked at her.

"Sounds bad."

"It’s horrible!" Qliphoth replied. "I lost everything!"

Yggdrasil slowly lowered her hand.

"Then behave."

Niddrog crossed her arms and made a small pout, but this time she did not answer.

Vergil watched the whole exchange and decided arguing would be more work than simply accepting it.

"I don’t mind taking her. But first I need to find Frey. I’m not going back without him."

Yggdrasil tilted her head slightly, as though that objection were extremely easy to solve.

"Niddrog can find him."

Vergil looked at the dragon.

She looked back.

"How?"

Yggdrasil pointed at Niddrog like a teacher presenting a particularly troublesome tool.

"She spent so long eating my roots that she acquired characteristics tied to their interdimensional connections. Yggdrasil crosses planes, spiritual systems, worlds, and conceptual regions. By consuming my roots for ages, Niddrog incorporated part of that behavior."

Niddrog looked discreetly proud.

Yggdrasil continued:

"She can invade practically any dimension with a minimally stable spatial structure. She doesn’t need a portal, ritual coordinates, or route authorization. She simply finds the layer."

Vergil frowned slightly.

"And opens a passage?"

"No."

Yggdrasil remained silent for a moment.

"She eats."

Vergil looked at Niddrog.

Niddrog smiled faintly.

"I eat it."

"You eat what?"

"Space."

Vergil stared at her.

Yggdrasil finished with the same natural tone someone might use to explain a perfectly ordinary habit.

"Spacetime. Dimensional barriers. Walls between planes. Depending on the resistance, she bites until she opens a hole."

Vergil ran a hand over his face.

"Of course she bites it."

Niddrog shrugged.

"It works."

"And that’s how you started crossing dimensions?"

"More or less."

Yggdrasil narrowed her eyes at her.

Niddrog noticed.

"The roots are too tasty," she muttered, almost to herself.

Yggdrasil slowly turned her face.

Niddrog immediately fell silent.

Vergil had to suppress the urge to laugh.

The same creature that had been exchanging blows capable of tearing spacetime apart only minutes earlier could now be silenced by a single look from the World Tree.

"So she can reach the Inverted World of Exile?"

"Easily," Yggdrasil replied. "In fact, taking her would be safer than trying to open the original entrance. The passage Frey found is unstable. Niddrog can simply bite a new route to the region where he is."

Niddrog nodded confidently.

"I can find the smell."

Vergil raised an eyebrow.

"Frey’s smell?"

"The path."

"Dimensional routes have a smell?"

Niddrog looked at him as though the question were stupid.

"Of course."

Vergil decided not to continue.

It was a good solution.

Better than anything he had planned up to that point.

Niddrog possessed natural interdimensional mobility, knew the regions near Yggdrasil’s roots, and apparently could track spatial structures like an animal following a trail.

The only problem was Niddrog.

Vergil watched her for a few seconds.

Until then, everything he knew about her came from stories describing her as a primordial, hostile, destructive, insane creature.

The reality in front of him was more complicated.

She was powerful enough to fight Nivara and Crymsaria at the same time, ancient enough to know structures older than several pantheons, and strangely innocent in certain basic interactions.

She did not seem evil.

She also did not seem exactly predictable.

"I don’t mind," he finally said. "It’s just..."

Yggdrasil waited.

Vergil looked at Niddrog again.

"I don’t know how to deal with someone I just met. Especially someone like this."

Niddrog narrowed her eyes.

"Like what?"

Vergil ignored the question.

Yggdrasil looked from one to the other and seemed genuinely confused by his concern.

"She’s a teenager."

Vergil went still.

Qliphoth slowly raised her head.

Crymsaria blinked.

Nivara opened her eyes fully.

Niddrog simply kept looking at them, unable to understand why that information seemed relevant.

Vergil pointed at her.

"A teenager?"

"Yes."

"She spends ages eating your roots."

"Dragons of this category have different cycles."

"She’s strong enough to tear through dimensions."

"Still a teenager."

"She split herself into thousands of bodies."

"Teenager."

Vergil looked at Niddrog.

She made a face at him.

Yggdrasil continued with almost cruel calm.

"Teenagers are easy to deal with, aren’t they?"

Vergil remained silent for several seconds.

His mind quickly ran through every personal experience he had with young beings, children, disciples, temperamental subordinates, and people who made decisions exclusively because someone had told them not to do something.

He looked at Niddrog again.

She was discreetly trying to pull a golden leaf from Yggdrasil and put it in her mouth.

Yggdrasil slapped her hand away without even looking.

Niddrog pouted again.

Vergil closed his eyes.

"This is going to go to shit."

Yggdrasil smiled.

"Now you’re understanding."

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