Chapter 550: Bringing a demon back to life
Sapphire’s mansion waited in silence as Vergil pushed open the heavy doors, accompanied by Katharina, Roxanne, Ada, Sapphire, Stella, Raphaeline, and Sepphirothy. The echo of their footsteps echoed in the hall, mingling with the distant sound of the wind rushing through the stone corridors.
But before any of the women could say anything, a swift figure emerged from within the house.
“Darling!” The feminine voice shattered the solemnity of the moment, charged with emotion.
Viviane, the faithful maid who had longed for his return, ran through the hall with tears glistening in her eyes. Her steps barely touched the ground, and in seconds she was before him.
Vergil barely had time to react. She threw herself at him, her arms closing around his neck with unexpected, almost desperate strength. The shock made him recoil half a step, but soon his balance returned.
Viviane pressed him against her, her face hidden against his chest for a moment. A muffled sob escaped her lips, as if the months-long absence had turned into physical pain. But before she could give in to tears, she lifted her face. Her eyes shone, wet, brimming with longing and something deeper, more urgent.
Without asking permission, Viviane pulled his face down and pressed her lips to his.
The impact was electric. The kiss wasn’t timid, nor hesitant. It was fierce. As if every second of absence had built up into an explosion of desire and relief.
Her lips molded to his hungrily, as if she wanted to devour him. The initial pressure was so intense that Vergil almost laughed against her mouth, surprised by her boldness. But soon the laughter dissolved, replaced by something deeper.
Viviane tilted her head, making room, and her breath mingled with his in hot waves. The kiss deepened. He felt the bittersweetness of her taste, something familiar, but now seemed magnified by its absence.
With each movement, her lips moved like hungry flames, intertwining with his in a rhythm that oscillated between desperation and adoration. It was a kiss that begged, that cried out, but also that celebrated. As if she wanted to prove, with every second, that she still possessed him—and that she wouldn’t let him go again.
Her fingers dug into his silver hair, tugging hard, forcing him not to pull away. Vergil gave in, allowing himself to be drawn into that whirlwind of longing. Her tongue brushed against his, and for an instant the entire world seemed to melt around them: the mansion, the other women, time itself.
There was only the heat of the kiss. The metallic taste of anxiety. The tremor in her shoulders. The breath that was missing between one sigh and the next.
When he finally pulled his lips away, Viviane still kept her forehead pressed against his, panting, her eyes closed.
“I… missed you so much…” she whispered, her voice cracking, almost broken.
Vergil looked at her closely, a crooked smile appearing on his lips, even as he panted. “Hmph… looks like I wasn’t the only one.”
The kiss was still burning in the air when Viviane was abruptly torn away from Vergil. Katharina, overcome by a sudden wave of jealousy, grabbed the maid’s arm tightly and pulled her back, severing the connection between them.
“Enough!” she said, her voice thick with authority.
Viviane barely had time to react. Katharina mercilessly dragged her away and, in one harsh movement, slammed her against the nearest sofa. The impact was sharp, and Viviane fell back onto the cushions, panting, her hair disheveled by the moment.
Vergil merely raised an eyebrow, that wry smile on his lips, as if he’d already expected this reaction.
“Katharina…” he murmured, but his wife paid him no attention.
She remained standing, her eyes blazing, breathing heavily like a lioness protecting her territory. But when she turned to the maid slumped on the sofa, something unexpected happened.
Katharina frowned.
That piece of furniture… wasn’t theirs.
The upholstery wasn’t the same, the fabric was different. The stitching, the wood details, the shape of the cushions—none of it matched what she remembered. Her surprise grew even greater when she looked up and looked around.
The curtains weren’t the same. The walls, now covered in a delicate textured paper, weren’t the same color as before. The chandeliers above the room were larger, more refined, hanging on silver chains instead of bronze. Even the floor seemed polished differently.
It was as if… the entire mansion had been rebuilt.
“What…?” Katharina took a step back, her eyes taking in every detail. “This… isn’t our living room.”
Roxanne’s eyes widened in confusion. Ada, ever observant, tilted her chin and let out a whisper:
“Hm. Renovation, is it?”
Stella, however, merely crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes. “Or it’s a trap.”
Raphaeline, the warrior, already had her hand on her sword, suspicious. “I didn’t sense anything strange… but… how could this have gone unnoticed?”
Sepphirothy, silent as ever, simply watched, though a curious glint crossed her eyes.
All eyes turned to Viviane, still sitting on the sofa, adjusting her dress and taking a deep breath. She seemed to hesitate, biting her lower lip, before finally speaking:
“Before you leave here…” she began, her voice low, almost embarrassed. “They destroyed half the room.”
The words fell like stones in the silence.
“What?” Katharina closed her eyes, taking a step forward.
Viviane looked away, staring at the floor. “And… also part of the second floor.”
The girls exchanged glances, some shocked, others suspicious.
“We had to rebuild.” Viviane looked up slowly, staring at Vergil, a small, nervous smile playing on her lips. “Remember?”
Vergil said nothing. He just held her gaze, and in that moment it became clear that it wasn’t a fabrication. He actually remembered.
Katharina, however, wasn’t satisfied. “Rebuild?” she repeated, her voice thick with disbelief. “You just… rebuilt the entire house without consulting us?”
“There was no choice,” Viviane countered, firmer now. “After the battle, nothing was left. If we hadn’t acted, the ceiling would have fallen in.”
“Hm.” Ada made a low sound, crossing her arms. “So it was a necessity. Not a choice.”
Stella still didn’t seem convinced. “Who exactly did this ‘reconstruction’?”
Viviane took a deep breath and replied, “I organized everything. I hired the best workers, used the resources we had saved. I did what needed to be done.”
Katharina snorted, but couldn’t immediately argue. Her gaze wandered around the room again, and she had to admit—albeit silently—that the result was impeccable. Better, even, than before.
Vergil finally broke the silence. He took a few steps forward, his boots clicking against the polished floor, and stopped in front of Viviane. The maid looked up at him, still biting her lip, waiting for his reaction.
He tilted his head, taking in the new surroundings, as if evaluating every detail. And then, with that smile full of mischief and approval, he said:
“You did well.”
Viviane released the breath she’d been holding in her chest, relieved. A glint of pride lit her eyes.
“Of course you did well…” Katharina grumbled, still suspicious. “He’ll always support you, no matter what you do.”
Vergil shot his wife a quick glance, that characteristic sharp look that said more than words: “Control yourself.”
Katharina looked away, arms crossed, huffing silently.
Roxanne, trying to break the heavy mood, laughed softly. “Well… at least the decor is beautiful. And I loved that sofa.” She threw herself down next to Viviane, who almost fell again.
Viviane gave a small smile, still nervous. “Thank you. I thought of everything… every detail. I wanted it to be perfect when you returned.”
Raphaeline relaxed her grip on the sword and moved closer. “I must admit, you were efficient. I didn’t notice any flaws in your work.”
Stella still didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t say anything else.
Ada, for her part, sighed. “In the end, it’s just a house. What matters is that it’s in one piece.”