My Three Beautiful Vampire Wives can hear my Inner Thoughts-Chapter 95: Overgod’s speculation
The next thing Cain became aware of was not sight or sound, but pressure.
It was not that noticeable at first, like invisible walls pressing in from every direction, not crushing him but holding him firmly in place. He could not tell where it began or where it ended. It felt like being sealed inside a narrow coffin buried deep underground, where the earth did not suffocate you yet refused to let you move.
The space around him felt tight, controlled, measured. As if something had drawn a circle around his existence and locked it.
His mind stirred slowly.
Locked?
A faint irritation flickered through his thoughts. As an Overgod, the idea of being confined, even for a moment, was something he would never tolerate. Even when he limited himself to a lower realm, even when he sealed most of his power, the core of him was vast and unbound. He had existed across cycles. He had rewritten time itself.
So what was this feeling?
His eyelids opened.
White.
The ceiling above him was white, smooth and clean, carved with delicate patterns of vines and roses. Moonlight filtered through thin curtains, bathing the room in a soft glow. The air smelled faintly of flowers and iron.
Then warmth brushed against his lips.
He froze.
A soft, wet sensation withdrew slowly, lingering just long enough to make his breath catch.
Ivira pulled her tongue from his mouth and slowly licked her own lips, her gaze half lidded and amused. Her white hair spilled over her shoulders like snow, and she wore a simple white shirt that clung to her slender figure.
In that moonlight, with her pale skin and red eyes, she looked dangerously like a pure blood vampire, even more than usual.
"How was your sleep?" she asked gently, tilting her head.
Cain blinked once.
He immediately raised a hand and touched his lips, his fingers brushing against the faint trace of warmth she had left behind.
"What?" he muttered under his breath.
The blood pact.
His heart tightened.
If he received a kiss from one of them, especially if it was mutual, the bond could deepen. The pact responded to shared intimacy. The more emotion involved, the stronger the draw. That was the risk.
He closed his eyes briefly and examined the connection.
Carefully.
Slowly.
There was no surge.
No sudden pull.
No tightening of the threads between them.
He exhaled quietly.
The kiss had not been mutual. He had been asleep. Unconscious. The pact had not recognized it as an exchange of intent.
He opened his eyes again, calmer.
Ivira leaned closer, her voice dropping to a teasing whisper. "What’s wrong? Are you too stunned to speak?"
Cain’s fingers twitched slightly at his side.
Secretly, he formed a small hand sign beneath the sheets. A thin line of blood mana flowed from his fingertip into the floor.
Under the bed, flowers began to bloom silently. 𝒇𝒓𝙚𝒆𝔀𝓮𝓫𝒏𝓸𝙫𝓮𝓵.𝓬𝙤𝙢
Dark red petals unfolded, spreading along the wooden frame, climbing up like vines, their fragrance thick and sweet. It was the beginning of a sleeping blood magic spell, subtle and slow.
He parted his lips to speak the activation word.
"Sp—"
He stopped himself.
A faint resistance brushed against his senses. It was light, but it was there. Ivira’s aura was steady. Unaffected.
Although he could use it, he somehow felt that she could resist it.
His eyes narrowed slightly. Observing her carefully.
"Husband," Ivira said softly, placing a hand on his chest. "Why aren’t you saying anything?"
Before he could react, she shifted her weight and sat directly on his lap.
The sudden contact made his body stiffen despite himself. He felt the warmth of her thighs through the thin fabric, felt the faint rise and fall of her breathing so close to his face.
Inside, he cursed.
This damn vixen.
Are you really the proud and cold Ivira from before? What happened to you? Since when did you start acting like this?
He stared at her face, searching for the distant, indifferent expression she used to wear. The one that made it clear she married him only out of obligation and strategy.
But all he saw was soft curiosity and something dangerously close to affection.
He paused.
A strange sense of familiarity washed over him.
Deja vu.
He felt like had questioned her like this before. In his own mind. Wondering why she acted smitten. Wondering why she leaned closer instead of pulling away.
But when?
When did he question her?
His thoughts stumbled against a blank space.
Ivira’s eyes studied him carefully. "What’s wrong?" she asked again, this time less teasing and more observant.
Cain forced his expression to relax. "I’m tired," he said calmly. "I need more sleep."
She did not move immediately.
She simply looked at him for a long moment, her red eyes searching his face as if trying to read something deeper than his words.
Then she nodded slowly. "Okay."
She stood up gracefully, smoothing her shirt.
"Rest well," she added softly.
And then she left.
The door closed with a quiet click.
Cain lay there for several seconds without moving.
He found it odd. She felt like being drained. Her steps were weak.
Then he let out a long breath.
He closed his eyes again.
This is what is happening.
Yesterday.
He tried to recall.
All he could remember was attempting to make the Moonshade family turn against him. He remembered Sevette. He remembered Cornelia losing control and using Blood Pressure accidentally.
Accidentally.
His brow furrowed.
That word did not sit right with him.
Why does it feel like my memory is so... incomplete?
There were gaps. Empty spaces between events. Conversations that felt like they should exist but did not. Emotions that lingered without context.
It felt like reading a book where entire pages had been torn out.
He pressed a hand against his forehead.
"Why can’t I remember everything?" he murmured.
Blood Pressure used because of Sevette.
Was that truly the only trigger?
Or was there more?
A dull pain suddenly throbbed in his chest.
He stiffened.
Pain?
He sat up slightly.
Another sharp ache shot through his side.
Cain’s eyes widened.
"Injured?" he whispered.
That was impossible.
He was an Overgod.
Even if most of his power were limited to the fifth stage blood infusion realm, the foundation of his body was still built upon the Overgod essence. It was not something a low level being could damage easily.
He closed his eyes and turned his awareness inward.
Slowly.
Carefully.
He examined his bones first.
They were intact, but faint cracks lingered along his ribs, like hairline fractures that had already begun to mend.
His muscles felt sore, stretched beyond their limits recently. Tiny tears had been repaired, but he could still sense where they had been.
His internal organs...
He froze.
There were traces of rupture. Signs of severe internal damage that had healed.
His heart had been pierced by something violent. His lungs had collapsed. His meridians had been overloaded.
But now?
Now they were whole.
Repaired.
Renewed.
He frowned deeply.
"This..."
He scanned again.
More thoroughly.
He traced every vein, every drop of blood circulating within him. His Overgod blood flowed smoothly, but there were faint afterimages of disruption, like ripples left behind after a storm.
He examined his soul.
It felt stable, but there were scars.
Thin lines of stress along its surface.
He inhaled slowly.
He had been injured.
Severely.
But healed.
By whom?
How?
His body was not something low level blood could restore. Even if the Moonshade sisters gave her strongest creatures blood in this realm, it would not be enough to mend damage inflicted upon an Overgod foundation.
"Who injured me?" he muttered.
"And who healed me?"
He began listing possibilities under his breath.
"An external enemy?" he whispered. "Impossible. No one in this realm could push me to that extent."
"A hidden entity?" he continued. "A sealed god? A forgotten ancient?"
He shook his head slightly.
"The ancestors of this Moonshade family?" he murmured. "Can they hurt me?"
His thoughts slowed.
Impossible! Impossible!
He felt a chill run through him.
"No," he said softly. "Something’s not right."
But had he?
He could not remember.
"Memory tampering?" he asked himself quietly. "By Cornelia? By Ivira? By someone else?"
His jaw tightened.
"They cannot alter my core memories so easily."
He examined his mind again, pushing deeper, probing the empty spaces.
There was resistance there. Not an external barrier, but something like a reset.
As if something had been erased cleanly.
He clenched his fist.
"Something happened yesterday," he whispered firmly. "Something big."
He opened his eyes, a cold determination settling within them.
Using the Moonshade family had become useless after Cornelia used Blood Pressure. The internal pressure within the clan would no longer break them apart easily.
Fine.
If internal division would not work, then external pressure would.
Other vampire families.
Other races.
He would conspire.
He would build hostility.
He would corner the three sisters until hatred became their only option.
The best part?
He can catch some snacks to heal himself along the way.
Cain pushed aside the covers and stepped out of the coffin like a bed.
He walked toward the door quietly and extended his senses.
No one was outside.
Good.
His body dissolved into a red shadow, flowing through the cracks of the room like mist. He reformed outside the door, silent and unseen.
Then his form broke apart into dozens of dark red bats, their wings thin and sharp, their eyes glowing faintly.
They flew upward, slipping through corridors and out into the night.
As he flew, his thoughts continued to circle.
"Injury and healing," he muttered within his mind. "Memory gaps. Emotional residue. Ivira’s behavior."
He replayed her expression. It had not been fake.
"Did something attack me mentally?" he asked himself quietly.
He could not understand.
As an Overgod, his calculations were rarely wrong. Even limited, he should have controlled the situation.
Unless...
Unless he had been truly attacked.
His bats flew higher.
Then, gradually, a heavy pressure descended.
At first, he ignored it.
Just atmospheric resistance.
Just the natural strain of splitting his body.
But it grew stronger.
Each bat’s wings felt heavier.
The air pressed down like an invisible mountain.
Cain slowed.
The pressure intensified.
It was not external.
It was internal.
A weight within his own existence.
His bats trembled mid air.
He paused completely.
The pressure felt... familiar.
His heart skipped.
He gathered his bats back together, reforming his humanoid vampire shape atop a distant treetop.
The weight lingered.
His eyes widened slowly.
"Don’t tell me..."
