My Three Beautiful Vampire Wives can hear my Inner Thoughts-Chapter 94: Planes Connected Successfully

In a distant technological goblin plane, the sky was not blue but bronze.

It glowed with the reflection of furnaces that never stopped burning, and the mountains were not majestic but wounded. Their sides were torn open by drills and metal claws, their ribs exposed in the form of glittering veins that had long ago run dry.

The goblins had carved roads through stone and built bridges of steel between cliffs, and massive gears turned day and night, creaking like old beasts that refused to die.

Goblins were not tall, nor were they graceful, but their eyes shone with a sharp and restless light.

They wore thick goggles, gloves blackened by soot, and belts full of tools that clicked and clanked as they moved. For centuries they had been proud. Their metalwork was unmatched.

Their banks held wealth beyond counting. Their machines could bore through mountains and refine minerals into alloys that sang when struck.

Yet now their pride felt heavy.

At the edge of a stripped valley, dozens of goblins operated a colossal drilling machine shaped like a crawling spider. Its legs dug deep into the earth while its core rotated with a low, grinding hum. Sparks flew, smoke rose, and bits of stone rained down.

"Anything?" one goblin shouted, wiping sweat from his forehead.

Another peered into a handheld device covered in blinking runes and spinning needles. He frowned. "Trace iron. Weak copper. Nothing worth melting."

A third goblin kicked a loose rock in frustration. "We’ve been digging this mountain for six months. Six months. There has to be something."

"There isn’t," came the tired reply. "The scanners don’t lie."

They all fell silent.

Around them, other goblins slumped against machines, their shoulders sagging. In the distance, automated carts rolled along metal tracks, carrying piles of worthless stone back to processing towers where it would be ground into dust and discarded.

In the capital city, tall chimneys released black smoke into the bronze sky. Banks stood in grand halls of iron and glass, yet even inside those halls the mood was dull.

Clerks counted coins that no longer grew in number. Engineers scribbled designs for machines that had nothing left to build.

A young goblin apprentice sat on the steps of a foundry, staring at his reflection in a piece of polished steel. "What’s the point," he muttered. "If there’s no new mineral, there’s no new alloy. If there’s no new alloy, there’s no progress."

An older goblin beside him sighed. "Progress doesn’t stop. It waits."

The apprentice shook his head. "We’ve torn apart three mountain ranges. The northern ridge is empty. The eastern cliffs are empty. Even the deep core mines show nothing but rock."

The older goblin did not respond. His gaze drifted toward the horizon, where once proud peaks had become jagged ruins.

Then, without warning, every scanning device in the valley screamed.

High pitched alarms pierced the air. The goblins froze. The needles on their instruments spun wildly, then locked in place, vibrating so hard that cracks formed along their glass covers.

"Impossible," one whispered.

"Energy spike detected," another read from his shaking device. "Unknown composition. Density off the scale."

The ground in front of them tore open in a perfect circle. Metal machines screeched as if in fear. From the center of that circle, a massive portal rose, its edges formed of rotating red symbols, its interior dark and deep like a wound in the world.

The scanners flared brighter than ever before. 𝕗𝐫𝚎𝗲𝘄𝐞𝕓𝐧𝕠𝘃𝕖𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝚖

"Minerals," a goblin breathed. "So many... it’s like an entire continent of concentrated ore."

Their despair vanished in an instant. Eyes widened. Hearts pounded.

Not long, near the portal, something stepped forward.

A giant machine, taller than the tallest tower in their capital, emerged slowly. Its body was made of layered metal plates, glowing lines running through its joints. Its head resembled a crowned helm, and its eyes burned with cold light. Every step it took caused the ground to crack.

An Emperor level war machine.

The goblins stared in awe and greed.

"Let’s go!" one whispered.

"Alright," another said softly. "Take all the minerals!"

The giant machine turned its head toward the portal, as if ready to pounce on it.

The goblins’ fingers tightened around their tools.

Then they charged!

...

In another plane, the elven nature plane breathed in calm harmony.

Trees taller than castles swayed gently, their leaves glowing faintly with magic. Rivers wound through fields of silver grass, and animals moved without fear. The air carried soft music, not from instruments but from the forest itself.

At the center of this realm stood a grand tree whose trunk was wider than a mountain. Within its hollowed heart lay a throne woven from living roots.

The Elven Queen stood before her people, her long hair flowing like liquid moonlight. A soft crown rested on her brow, and her aura shimmered with power that surpassed the Emperor realm.

Around her gathered nobles, mages, and ancient guardians.

"You have done what none before you could," one elder said, bowing deeply. "To step beyond the Emperor realm is to step beyond history."

"It is a blessing for our race," another added warmly. "Under your guidance, our plane will know peace for ten thousand years."

The Queen smiled gently, though her eyes held a distant thoughtfulness. "Peace is never permanent," she said softly. "It must be protected."

Laughter and agreement followed. Elves spoke of future festivals, of expanding forests into barren lands, of sharing wisdom with lesser realms.

Then the Queen’s expression changed.

Her gaze lifted sharply toward the sky.

The chatter faded as they noticed her silence.

"What is it, Your Majesty?" a mage asked.

She closed her eyes briefly, extending her senses beyond the forest, beyond the clouds.

When she opened them again, her voice was steady but cold.

"A portal has appeared."

The words struck the gathering like a stone dropped into still water.

"Where?" someone demanded.

"At the northern border," she replied. "And the being who opened it..." Her fingers tightened slightly around the arm of her throne. "Its power is unfathomable."

The elves fell quiet.

"We must prepare for war," the Queen said, rising to her full height. "Call the archers. Awaken the ancient guardians. Seal the sacred groves."

Her aura flared, bright and fierce.

"This is not an invitation," she continued calmly. "It is a challenge."

...

In the Centaurion plane, war had already stained the plains red.

Demons roared and clashed against centaur warriors whose bows sang with deadly precision.

The ground trembled beneath pounding hooves and clashing steel.

At the center of the battlefield stood a towering centaur with long golden white hair flowing behind him like a banner. His spear gleamed with divine light.

A massive demon charged at him, claws raised.

The centaur did not move until the last moment.

Then he thrust his spear forward with blinding speed. The weapon pierced through the demon’s chest, and radiant power erupted outward, tearing the creature apart.

"You are punished by my divine might," he declared, his voice echoing across the plains.

The remaining demons fled, only to be struck down by arrows raining from every direction.

Cheers rose from the centaur warriors.

"Our leader has ended it!"

"No more demons in this plane!" he proclaimed, lifting his spear high.

Joy filled the air.

Then a heavy pressure descended.

The cheering stopped.

The centaur leader’s eyes narrowed as he felt a vast blood energy spreading across the sky. A portal opened in the distance, red and swirling.

His jaw tightened.

"I must pass judgment upon that evil being," he said firmly.

He slammed his massive spear into the ground, and the earth cracked beneath it.

...

In the Merman plane, beneath waves glowing with soft blue light, cities of coral and crystal stood tall.

Merpeople swam gracefully through archways carved from shells. Children practiced weaving currents with their hands. Elders told stories of ancient sea beasts and lost kingdoms.

In the royal chamber deep beneath the sea, the Sea Matriarch listened to reports of harvests and tides.

Suddenly, the water trembled.

A deep crimson light filtered down from the surface.

"Blood mana," a guard whispered in fear.

The Matriarch swam upward swiftly, her long tail cutting through the water.

Above, a portal churned at the ocean’s surface, staining the waves red.

The merpeople gathered, not with fear but with curiosity.

"It feels ancient," one said.

"It feels dangerous," another replied.

The Matriarch’s eyes were calm. "We will observe," she said. "But we shall not ignore it."

...

In the dwarven empire, deep within mountain halls carved from stone, hammers rang against anvils in steady rhythm.

Dwarves moved with purpose, their beards braided, their arms thick with muscle. They sang as they worked, songs of stone and steel.

In the deepest forge, the High King inspected a newly forged blade glowing with runes.

"Strong," he said approvingly.

Then the flames flickered violently.

A wave of blood mana seeped through cracks in the stone.

The dwarves paused.

"What foul magic is this?" one growled.

A portal tore open in the cavern wall, red light spilling into their sacred halls.

The High King gripped his hammer tightly.

"Seal the gates," he commanded. "No unknown force enters our domain without an answer."

...

In the Horn Plane, a small figure walked through a field of fallen leprechauns.

He hummed softly, his voice light and sweet, as if singing a lullaby to children.

"Sleep now, little dreamers, close your golden eyes..."

His dagger flashed as he moved from body to body, cutting without hesitation.

"Coins will shine and rain will fall, but none will hear your cries..."

Blood stained his green coat, yet his smile remained gentle.

"Rest beneath the clover’s shade, where no one dares to rise..."

He stopped at the last trembling leprechaun and tilted his head.

"Hush now," he whispered, before ending him.

Silence settled.

He wiped his blade and looked around.

"Is there really no one else who can challenge me?" he asked softly.

A massive portal opened before him, towering high above.

His eyes widened slowly.

"Another plane?" he murmured, licking his lips.

"Good. I hope someone there can give me a fight."

...

In the Giant Plane, enormous figures wandered across vast empty lands.

They were simple beings, their thoughts slow and unclear. One giant picked up a rock and threw it for no reason. Another stared at the sky for hours.

By accident, two giants struck stones together and created sparks. The sparks grew into a small fire.

They stared at it in wonder, poking it with sticks.

Then a red portal appeared nearby.

The giants glanced at it.

One scratched his head.

Another returned to watching the fire.

The portal hummed quietly as they ignored it completely.

Soon more portals appeared everywhere.

Every plane.

And it’s all connected to the nightmare plane.