My Wives are Beautiful Demons

Alucard slowly wiped the blood trickling down the side of his face with a black handkerchief, his gaze darker than usual. There was something unusual in his tone — a restrained coldness, like a predator that could no longer pretend to be tamed.

"Vladislaus Dragamir," he said, spitting the name like acid. "That's the guy you want."

Kaguya, always standing a step behind with her unwavering posture, bowed silently and extended a tablet to Alucard. The vampire took it, slid his finger across the screen for a few seconds, then tossed it gently toward Vergil, who caught it midair.

On the screen was a frozen image of a man with an aristocratic appearance. His gray eyes seemed to pierce the soul even through a photo. White, straight, well-kept hair, and clothing that fused ancient fashion with modern elements — as if every part of his look was calculated to intimidate without saying a word.

"As you probably already know," Alucard began, his voice now deeper, "we vampires are divided into clans. Or more precisely… families. And like any ancient bloodline, internal disputes have always been our biggest problem."

Vergil studied the image while Alucard continued.

"I'm from the Drăculea family, a direct descendant of Vlad Tepes — the original. But my father, Dracula… he didn't just found our bloodline. He created all the great vampiric clans of Europe and parts of Asia. One by one, he shaped them, gave them blood, power, and purpose. Some as protectors, others as warriors… and some, like Vladislaus Dragamir, as monsters that should never have been unleashed."

He stood, walking toward a lit fireplace in the corner of the hall, where the wood crackled softly, as if each pop marked the beat of an ancient memory.

"The Dragamir Clan was one of the first houses created by Dracula. A bloodline forged in discipline, ancestral magic, and blind fanaticism. They believe themselves the true heirs, molded during the peak of my father's power. But…" He turned, eyes narrowed. "They forgot who keeps the Dracula name alive. Who stabilizes the bloodlines. Who prevented a war between the clans during centuries of silence."

Vergil received the tablet back from Sapphire, who had already seen the name and let out a dismissive "tch." He looked again at Vladislaus's face. He looked like the kind of man born to betray.

"And now he's playing god?" Vergil murmured, more to himself.

"It's more than that," Alucard said, his expression hardening. "He stole something. Something ancient. Something that does not belong to this world."

His eyes turned toward Kaguya.

The Japanese vampire hesitated for a moment. It was visible. Her hands clenched together, barely containing the tension. The silence that followed felt like reverence, as if each word needed permission to be spoken.

"He has one of the Three Sacred Treasures of Japan," she said, her voice laced with both sorrow and anger.

Sapphire raised her eyebrows, surprised. "He used a fragment of Excalibur to forge the relic into a divine weapon?"

"No," Kaguya replied, her voice nearly faltering for a second. "Worse. Now that everyone knows fragments of Excalibur can be fused into armaments… Vladislaus decided to force that fusion with something even more powerful."

She took a deep breath, her eyes growing colder. "He used a fragment in the Kusanagi no Tsurugi. The Sword of Storms. One of Japan's Three Sacred Treasures. Treasures that symbolize the divine right to rule."

The atmosphere subtly darkened. Even the flames in the fireplace seemed to waver.

"Kusanagi," Vergil repeated under his breath. "The sword of the goddess Amaterasu. Legend says it was found inside the body of an eight-headed serpent… and passed down as a celestial heirloom to Japan's first Emperor."

"Yes," Kaguya confirmed. "The legend isn't just myth. We guarded it for millennia. It was protected in sacred temples, sealed, hidden from the world… until he appeared. Vladislaus stole the artifact and fused the Veil fragment into the sword. And now… it doesn't just cut matter — it cuts essence itself."

Sapphire let out a slow, sarcastic whistle. "He's basically wielding a divorce between the natural laws."

Alucard leaned against the stone ledge near the fireplace. "And on top of that… he's gathering dissident clans. Smaller houses, forgotten or exiled. He's creating a Nocturnal Court, as they now call themselves. A blood empire… to challenge every supernatural throne."

"And why now?" Vergil asked, eyes narrowed.

"Because the balance of power is collapsing," Alucard answered. "With the fragments scattered, the equilibrium is breaking. You must've noticed it already — across the board, factions are starting to consider the fragments vital, especially with the promise of forging weapons from the divine power that remains."

Kaguya then spoke, cutting into her king's words like a whisper from someone begging for help.

"And he… killed the sword's guardians. My brothers. The monks who watched over the temple. He tore them apart like paper. Not even the ancient spells stopped him from taking what he wanted."

For a moment, silence fell like a heavy curtain.

Vergil then shattered the stillness, sliding the tablet back toward Alucard. "So that's it. A sacred sword, a lunatic with a god complex, and a war of thrones between immortal vampires."

Sapphire stretched like a lazy cat, but her eyes gleamed like a starving predator. "Almost romantic."

"Romantic would be cutting his head off and returning the sword to Amaterasu personally," Kaguya said, her tone finally revealing the centuries-old fury she had kept buried.

Vergil slowly crossed his arms, as if weighing the fate of empires with a single motion. His silver eyes glinted with calculated serenity — cold, dangerously sharp. He was no longer just the impulsive warrior, the hot-blooded demon. There was something different now. A weight. A presence.

"Hmmm..." He let out a low, thoughtful sound. The hall seemed to hold its breath. "What do I get if I help you with this?" His voice came out low, deep, and polished like tempered steel. This wasn't a simple question. It was a test.

Alucard gave a restrained smile, sensing the shift in his counterpart. But before he could respond, something else happened.

Sapphire was watching him.

The world around her simply vanished for a moment.

She knew him all too well from their training. She had watched Vergil grow into a demon.

But now… she saw something new. Something overwhelming.

A true sovereign.

The way he stared down Alucard, in total control. His body language meticulously restrained, without a single unnecessary movement. Every word was measured, strategic. It was like watching a lion stop roaring — and still make the world kneel.

Sapphire felt her heart race, a pounding throb in her chest, too strong to ignore. Her mouth went dry. Her legs, restless. And between them, a treacherous warmth had already formed — hot and pulsing. The black lace panties beneath her tight skirt were no longer anything but a symbolic barrier. And worse, she knew. She knew he wasn't even trying to seduce her.

That only made it more intense.

"He's not trying to be sexy… he just is," she thought, discreetly biting her lower lip.

She tried to look away, to maintain composure. But she failed. Because in that moment, instinct screamed louder: she wanted that man. Wanted to be taken by him, right there — on the stone throne or in the shadows of that ancient castle. She wanted to scream the name of a king who finally deserved to be worshipped.

Vergil turned slightly, his gaze crossing with hers for just a second.

One second was enough.

Sapphire felt naked. Exposed. Those silver eyes seemed to see everything — every desire, every fantasy, every drop of arousal. And she knew he noticed. A subtle corner of his mouth lifted. Not in mockery, but in dominance. As if to say: I know what you want… and maybe I'll give it to you… when I decide.

She bit her lip harder, trying not to moan just from the thought.

Alucard cleared his throat. The tension in the air could've been cut with a blade. It was thick… delicious.

"You'll have the political backing of my family," Alucard said, returning to the conversation as if he hadn't just been a silent spectator to an erotic showdown between two monarchs.

Vergil didn't respond right away. He simply walked toward the fireplace, hands clasped behind his back, each step echoing like an imperial decree. He stopped before the flames, his silhouette gilded by the firelight — like the statue of a war god.

"Add Dragamir's body to the list," he finally said. "I know that's not too much to ask of you, is it?"

Alucard's eyes widened slightly. "That's… a bold request."

Vergil turned his head just enough to glance over his shoulder. "I think you've forgotten why I came here," he spoke, and his killing intent flooded the castle like a tidal wave. "I came to kill the bastard who attacked my wives — and one of them is Sapphire's daughter." His eyes ignited with hellfire, black and demonic…

It was as if Death itself was looking at Alucard… but the one truly being consumed…

"So beautiful..." Sapphire moaned inwardly.

This was the man she wanted. The man she had fallen for — and now, the man she was unraveling for, right then and there, with nothing but his words.

The Demon King was no longer a king by title.

He was king… by right.

"You're right," Alucard said, and an aura just as terrifying as Vergil's rose into the air. "Then… how do you want to kill that bastard?"