My Wives are Beautiful Demons - Chapter 585
Chapter 585: Ada vs Ingrid
A few hours had passed since the clash.
The sky was now tinged with violet and orange hues—the evening was falling over the mansion, reflecting in the reconstructed stained-glass windows of the training hall. The marks of destruction had disappeared; the walls were once again spotless, the stone floor gleaming as if it had never been torn apart by explosions of wind and shadow.
The mansion’s maids, efficient and discreet, walked back and forth, collecting the last bits of magical dust that still lingered in the air. Some murmured restoration spells, others simply cleaned with enchanted cloths that moved on their own.
In the center of the field, Roxanne sat on a still-warm stone, her right arm bandaged. She silently watched the horizon, her gaze lost—but not tired. There was something content in her expression.
The light breeze played with the loose strands of her hair, and she took a deep breath, savoring the calm air after the chaos.
“If you tell me it doesn’t hurt, I’ll laugh,” a voice said behind her.
Roxanne turned her head just enough to see Ingrid approaching.
The woman walked calmly, her footsteps echoing lightly on the restored floor. The katana hung on her back, and her dark uniform still had small stains of soot—mementos of the battle. But there was a small smile on her lips, the kind that carried more respect than provocation.
“It doesn’t hurt,” Roxanne replied, without turning completely, but with the corner of her mouth curling into a half smile. “It’s just a reminder that you almost cut me in half.”
Ingrid arched an eyebrow, stopping beside her. “Almost.”
Roxanne gave a short laugh. “‘Almost’ is what separates a beautiful duel from an ugly funeral.”
The two were silent for a few seconds. The wind whispered between the newly rebuilt pillars, and the distant sound of the maids working mingled with the soft crackle of the torches being lit.
Ingrid looked around, observing the maids’ impeccable work. “They’re fast.”
“They’re the best,” Roxanne replied. “And also the ones most accustomed to cleaning up after our fights.”
“Fights, huh?” Ingrid crossed her arms, a lopsided smile on her face. “I’d call it destruction on a regional scale.”
Roxanne laughed lightly. “That’s because you haven’t seen me spar with Sapphire yet.”
“I’d rather not,” Ingrid replied, sitting down beside her.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. Only the sound of the wind and the rhythmic fluttering of a few crows’ wings as they crossed the sky.
Roxanne rested her chin on her knee. “You know… it’s been a while since I felt this way.” Ingrid turned slightly to her. “Like what?”
“Alive.” Roxanne smiled, but her gaze was distant. “Every blow of yours reminded me why I love fighting so much. It’s not about winning… it’s about feeling that there’s someone who understands.”
Ingrid watched her silently for a few seconds. Then she spoke in a softer voice than usual. “I understand what you mean.”
She looked away to the ground, her fingers playing with a small shadow that danced between them. “I used to fight out of anger. Then… I started fighting to prove something. These days, I think I just fight to not forget who I am.”
Roxanne looked at her, her smile slowly fading. “And who are you?”
Ingrid hesitated, but then answered, “A shadow trying to remember the light.”
Roxanne didn’t answer right away. She just watched Ingrid’s face—the firm expression, but the vulnerable look hidden behind it. After a moment, she murmured, “Beautiful. And sad.”
“Life usually involves both,” Ingrid replied, almost in a whisper.
The silence returned, comfortable this time.
From afar, Katharina appeared carrying a tray with two cups of steaming tea. The girl was smiling, but she tripped on a tiny crack in the ground and nearly dropped everything—which made both warriors chuckle quietly.
“It seems the field isn’t completely healed yet,” Ingrid said, amused.
Roxanne raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think anyone comes out completely healed after something like that.”
Katharina approached, still a little flushed from the stumble, and handed them the cups.
“Herbal tea from the inner garden. My mother said it helps with muscle recovery… and emotional recovery, in case you’re still ready for another fight.”
Ingrid accepted the cup, laughing. “Not this time.”
“Yeah, I think we’ve destroyed enough for today,” Roxanne added, taking a sip of the hot tea.
Appearing, Ada then said, “But it’s not over yet. Let’s go, bitch, you and I, so I can finish my chores.” She said, looking at Ingrid.
The silence that hung over the room shattered the instant Ada opened her mouth.
The tension that had previously dissolved into soft laughter condensed in the air again like electricity before a storm. Roxanne slowly lowered her teacup, steam rising in front of her face, and looked up at the figure now approaching the center of the field.
Ada.
Unlike before, she didn’t seem interested in conversation or subtlety. Her firm heel echoed on the floor like drumbeats, and her gaze—sharp, predatory—was fixed on Ingrid from the first step.
“I should have known,” Roxanne murmured, crossing her legs, watching with a half-smile. “Not two hours of peace in this house.”
Ada stopped a few feet away from the two of them, her long coat flapping in the night wind blowing through the open windows. Her eyes—that deep, almost silvery blue—gleamed with impatience.
“Let’s get this over with, bitch,” she repeated, crossing her arms arrogantly. “You and me. I want to get this over with before the night gets old.”
Ingrid sighed, closing her eyes for a second, as if trying to stifle a weary laugh.
“I should have known you wouldn’t let this go,” she said, slowly rising to her feet.
The sound of her katana being unsheathed cut through the air with a low, almost elegant hiss. The blade reflected the torchlight, creating a dark glow that seemed to dance with the air itself.
“Finish quickly, right?” Ingrid said, fixing Ada with a calm but firm gaze.
Ada gave a small, wry smile. “That is, if you can keep up with me.”
Roxanne, still sitting on the stone, leaned back, balancing her cup on her knee. “I should intervene…” she murmured, before taking another sip of tea. “…but honestly, I want to see where this leads.”
The maids still finishing cleaning realized what was about to happen and quickly retreated from the hall. Doors closed with automatic spells, and the containment runes on the floor lit up—bluish glows rising from the edges of the field like tiny snakes of light.
Now the field was active again.
The arena was ready.
Ada took the first step, the sound of her heel echoing loudly.
“Don’t waste my time, Ingrid.” Her voice was firm, but laced with something else—a kind of wounded pride, perhaps.
Ingrid took her stance, her feet firmly on the ground, her blade pointed slightly to the side. The air around her was already beginning to distort, the shadows moving beneath her feet as if they were alive, eager.
“I promise to be quick,” she replied calmly. “I have a pile of hot tea waiting for me.”
Ada frowned and snapped her fingers.
Suddenly, circles of light began to appear around her, forming complex red runes. The ground vibrated, and the air took on a metallic tone. With each step she took, tiny sparks of energy escaped, as if space itself were afraid to touch her.
“Always that arrogant tone…” Ada murmured. “Let’s see if you can maintain that when you’re on the ground.”
And then, she advanced.
Fast. Much faster than Roxanne or any of the maids could have imagined.
Ingrid reacted at the last instant—Ada’s first strike came from below, a spinning sequence with a blade made of pure energy, red and sharp. Ingrid blocked it with her katana, and the impact created an explosion of light and shadow.
The ground cracked again.
“We’re already breaking the floor again…” Roxanne murmured, resting her chin on her hand. “Sapphire will kill us if she sees this.”
Ada and Ingrid moved in perfect synchrony, a dance of power and precision. The red sparks of Ada’s magic clashed with Ingrid’s fluid shadows, creating a visual spectacle—light and darkness intertwined in a ballet of contained destruction.
Ada advanced with technique.
Ingrid responded with instinct.
The result was a near-perfect duel.
Ada spun, a red explosion illuminating the field. Ingrid narrowly dodged it, the shadows enveloping her like a protective veil. The blow struck the ground, scattering energy in the form of fractals that glowed like stars for a second before dissipating.
Roxanne stood, setting her empty cup on the stone. “Okay. Now it gets interesting.”
Ingrid took two steps back, sizing Ada up and down. “You’re stronger.”
“You too,” Ada replied, wiping a trickle of blood from the corner of her mouth with her thumb. “But it’s still predictable.”
Ingrid raised an eyebrow, and a slight smile appeared. “Want to test that theory?”
“That’s what I came for.”
They stepped forward simultaneously.
The air buckled, shadows and light colliding with enough force to rattle the windows. A circle of energy expanded from the center of the arena, sweeping away the dust and creating a gust of wind that nearly knocked Roxanne off her feet.
She just laughed. “What the hell… These two are going to bring down the entire mansion.”
In the center of the maelstrom, the two fought with pure ferocity. Ada used each spell with pinpoint precision—clean, cool, studied strikes. Ingrid, on the other hand, responded with improvisation, converting the enemy’s attacks into new shadow forms, as if her body were a living extension of the chaos.
And for a moment, time seemed lost.
Ada launched a final vertical strike, enveloped in pure red energy. Ingrid crossed the shadows in front of her body, blocking—the impact created a flash that covered everything.
The glow slowly dissipated, revealing the hall shrouded in a thin veil of dust and residual energy. The runes around the arena flickered in unstable flashes, trying to contain the force that still vibrated in the air.
In the center, Ingrid and Ada remained standing. Untouched.
Ingrid’s blade rested diagonally, still shrouded in undulating shadows, while Ada maintained her firm stance, her body motionless, her gaze fixed on her opponent. For a few seconds, no one breathed. Not even Roxanne, watching from a distance, dared break the silence.
The sound of the wind rushing through the windows was the only thing that moved.
“It seems…” Ingrid said, breaking the silence with her hoarse voice, “…it was a draw.”
She lowered her sword slightly, exhaling the heavy air of combat, and took a half step forward.
Ada didn’t respond. She simply tilted her head to the side, a small, enigmatic smile curving her lips.
“Tie?” she repeated, almost amused. “Are you sure about that?”
Ingrid arched an eyebrow. “You see me standing, don’t you?”
Ada gave a light, cold laugh. “Yeah… I still see it.”
But then, something changed.
The sound of drops.
Ping… ping… ping…
Ingrid frowned. She looked at the ground… both her arms were hanging to the ground. And then…
Her legs began to lose their strength… or rather…
“Damn… I didn’t even see it,” Ingrid said after falling backward… finally… her legs fell.
“Blood Court,” Ada said, smiling. “The victory is mine.”