My Wives are Beautiful Demons

Chapter 798: Lucifer and Samael

The wind continued to blow gently across the golden plain as a strangely comfortable silence hung between them. The white tablecloth rippled delicately in the warm breeze, and small, luminous petals drifted slowly, almost lazily, through the air. Vergil remained seated before Celeste, his posture relaxed only superficially. Beneath the apparent tranquility, his mind still raced, organizing questions, possibilities, and worries he didn’t quite know how to verbalize.Celeste observed all of this with absolute clarity.

Naturally.

She took another small sip of tea as her golden eyes rested calmly on her grandson. There was no intrusion in her gaze. No pressure. Just genuine attention. The kind of attention that seemed to pierce through thoughts without forcing them.

Vergil sighed slowly through his nose before finally speaking.

"Since you were apparently observing everything..." His fingers tapped lightly on the porcelain of the cup in front of him. "I want to know what you think about Lucy."

Celeste’s golden eyes immediately acquired a playful glint.

Then she laughed.

Not a cruel laugh.

Nor a mocking one.

Just genuinely amused.

Vergil narrowed his eyes slightly as she brought one hand to her lips, clearly trying to contain her own amusement.

"You’re finding this too funny."

"Because it is a little funny." She replied between small, soft laughs. "Cute, actually."

Vergil rested his face on one hand.

"I have a feeling I’m going to regret the next sentence."

"Probably." Celeste nodded with absolute serenity. "But I’ll still say it."

She then tilted her head slightly as a warm smile spread across her lips.

"It’s lovely to discover that my arrogant, proud, dramatically troubled son died... and had his soul rebuilt as a little girl."

The silence that followed was immediately filled by the sound of the wind rustling through the green fields.

Vergil remained motionless for two full seconds.

Then he let out a long, tired sigh.

"You say that with an impressively casual cruelty."

Celeste raised an eyebrow.

"Am I wrong?"

Vergil opened his mouth.

He thought.

He closed it again.

"...Unfortunately not."

This only made Celeste laugh again, now clearly pleased with herself. The sound seemed to blend into the surroundings so naturally that even the nearby golden butterflies seemed less restless as she laughed.

Vergil observed this in silence for a few moments before finally shaking his head.

"It’s still strange to hear you talk about him that way." His voice was lower now. "Considering Lucifer was your son."

Celeste gently placed the cup on the saucer.

"He was."

Vergil then glanced at the horizon for a few seconds before continuing.

"And my grandfather."

The wind seemed to slow slightly.

Celeste watched his face silently, waiting for the rest of the sentence.

Vergil leaned back slowly in his chair.

"Despite..." He let out a small sigh. "I only ever knew Samael."

Her golden eyes widened immediately.

Not dramatically.

But with genuine surprise.

"...What?"

Vergil finally looked back at her.

"When I became a demon, I found something of him."

Celeste remained completely still.

Even the wind seemed to hesitate for a moment around the table.

Vergil shrugged with apparent casualness, though his voice had lost some of its usual sarcasm.

"Not exactly all of him." His fingers slowly slid along the rim of the cup. "More like... a remnant."

Celeste continued staring at him without interrupting.

Vergil continued calmly.

"Fragments of the original soul. Echoes. Incomplete memories." He narrowed his eyes slightly as he seemed to revisit memories too old to be comfortable. "Samael still existed in some way within what Lucifer had become."

Silence returned immediately after that.

But now it carried weight.

A great deal of weight.

Celeste slowly shifted her gaze to the golden horizon of the plain as her fingers rested on the white porcelain of the table. For the first time since the beginning of that conversation, her expression lost some of the warm lightness it had maintained until then.

She seemed... thoughtful.

Deeply thoughtful.

Vergil noticed immediately.

"...You knew."

Celeste didn’t answer right away.

She observed the distant horizon like someone rearranging very old pieces of an absurdly complex puzzle. The wind moved her golden hair slowly as luminous particles appeared and disappeared around her wings.

Then she sighed.

A small sigh.

But heavy.

"...Samael really planned many things."

Vergil frowned slightly.

"What does that mean?"

Celeste closed her eyes for a brief moment.

When she opened them again, there was something different about them now. Not fear. Not worry, exactly.

Care.

"It means," she said slowly, "that perhaps not everything happened by accident."

Vergil immediately leaned forward slightly.

"Explain."

Celeste merely shook her head gently.

"I can’t."

The answer came too quickly.

Too firmly.

Vergil realized this immediately.

"...You know something."

She looked away from him for a moment.

Which, coming from her, was practically a confirmation.

Vergil narrowed his eyes.

"Celeste."

She sighed again.

"I made a soul contract."

The wind blew stronger at that moment, scattering small golden petals across the field around the table. The atmosphere itself seemed to react discreetly to her words.

Vergil remained motionless.

"With Samael."

It wasn’t a question.

Celeste nodded slowly.

"A long time ago."

Vergil was silent for a few seconds, processing it.

Then he let out a small, incredulous laugh.

"You’re telling me that the absolute entity of creation signed a spiritual contract."

"Yes."

"With his own son."

"Yes, also."

Vergil brought his hand to his face.

"This family is a conceptual disaster."

That elicited a small, tired smile from her.

"You have no idea how much."

Vergil still attentively observed her every slightest reaction.

"What kind of contract?"

Celeste immediately shook her head again.

"I can’t say."

"Why does the contract prevent it?"

"Yes."

Vergil rested his elbows on the table.

"Even now?"

She nodded calmly.

"Even now."

Silence returned once more between the two as the wind slowly swept through the green fields around them. Vergil clearly perceived that she had been carefully choosing each word since the name Samael had come up in conversation.

And that was extremely unusual.

Because until then Celeste spoke as someone completely free of worry.

Now there was hesitation.

Slight.

But real.

Vergil watched the delicate movements of her fingers holding the teacup.

"...His soul disappeared when he became Lucifer."

Celeste nodded slowly.

"Yes."

"Then why does the contract still matter?"

Her golden eyes moved slowly until they met his again.

"Because soul contracts don’t depend solely on physical existence."

Vergil remained silent.

She continued softly.

"A soul can change shape. It can fragment. It can corrupt, be reborn, divide, or rebuild itself." Her eyes widened slightly. "But certain promises remain."

The wind blew again.

Softer now.

Vergil felt a growing unease slowly rising in his chest.

Not fear.

But the unpleasant sensation of realizing that enormous pieces of that story lay hidden far beyond his reach.

"Lucy..." He spoke slowly. "Does it have anything to do with this contract?"

Celeste hesitated.

Only for a moment.

But Vergil noticed.

"...Perhaps."

That immediately made everything worse.

Vergil closed his eyes for a full second before letting out a small, irritated sigh.

"Wonderful."

Celeste observed his reaction with a curiously gentle expression.

"You’re handling cosmic revelations surprisingly well today." "Inside, I’m considering sinking the entire sky into a dimensional ocean."

"Ah." She nodded calmly. "So you’re really worried."

Vergil opened his eyes again and gave her a dry look.

"Don’t use emotional logic against me."

"It’s too funny for me to stop."

He stared at her for a few seconds before giving up the argument. Because she clearly wouldn’t respond any further than she already had.

And they both knew it.

Celeste brought the cup back to her lips as silence returned to the plain.

Then she spoke softly:

"You love that child very much."

Vergil answered without hesitation.

"Yes."

There was no arrogance.

No irony.

No pride.

Just absolute honesty.

Her golden eyes softened discreetly.

"That probably saved more things than you imagine."

Vergil frowned slightly.

"Another mysterious phrase?"

"I’m trying to control my natural impulse to explain the universe using vague metaphors."

"It’s working terribly."

Celeste smiled again.

"Thank you."

Vergil ran a hand slowly through his hair as he watched the distant horizon. Part of him wanted to press her until he got real answers. Another part already understood that it would be useless.

She clearly carried too much information.

And too many restrictions.

Still...

"You don’t seem surprised about Lucy."

Celeste was silent for a few moments before answering.

"Because she doesn’t seem wrong."

Vergil turned his eyes to her immediately.

"What?"

She gently placed the cup on the saucer once more.

"Her existence is strange." Her fingers slowly slid across the white porcelain. "Complex. Contradictory." Then she raised her golden eyes to him. "But not wrong."

Vergil remained completely still.

Celeste continued calmly:

"Lucy doesn’t seem like a cosmic accident." The wind moved her golden hair gently as she spoke. "She seems... a continuation."

"A continuation of what?"

Celeste smiled slightly.

Almost melancholically.

"Of hope."

The silence after that word seemed different.

Heavier.

Deeper.

Vergil slowly shifted his gaze to the blue sky above them as the warm wind continued to sweep across the endless green fields.

Hope.

It was a word he would never naturally associate with Lucifer.

Nor with Samael.

Nor with himself.

And yet...

Lucy existed.

Coloring dragons gold.

Calling supreme entities "dear friends."

Holding hot chocolate as if it were the greatest treasure in the universe.

Vergil slowly exhaled through his nose.

"...She likes crowns."

Celeste blinked slowly.

"What?"

"Lucy." He rested his face on one hand again. "She puts crowns on everything she draws."

Celeste was silent for a second.

Then she started laughing again.

This time louder.

Vergil immediately narrowed his eyes.

"Why is that funny?"

She was clearly trying to regain her composure as she held the cup with both hands.

"Because..." Another small laugh escaped her. "That sounds exactly like something the old Samael would do."

Vergil froze for a split second.

"...Really?"

"He drew crowns on absolutely everything." Her eyes gleamed with genuine amusement now. "Swords. Books. Animals. Once he drew a crown on a fish."

Vergil remained staring at her in silence.

Then he let out a small, incredulous laugh through his nose.

"...That’s ridiculously specific."

"He was five years old."

Vergil rested his hand on his forehead.

"So Lucy inherited questionable artistic tendencies from her conceptual grandfather."

"It seems so."

The wind swept across the green fields again as the two remained seated at that small white table lost in the middle of eternity.

And for the first time since he had arrived there...

Vergil felt something dangerously close to comfort.