My Three Beautiful Vampire Wives can hear my Inner Thoughts-Chapter 101: Elder Noir

The air trembled after that furious roar, and from above the tree line a figure descended with slow and terrible weight.

Cain lifted his eyes and saw him clearly.

An old vampire with a nearly bald head that shone faintly under the moonlight. What little hair remained clung to the sides of his skull in thin gray strands. His mustache and beard were not separate but merged together in one long, flowing mass that reached down to his chest, swaying as he floated.

His skin was pale even for a vampire, stretched thin across sharp cheekbones, and his eyes burned with a deep crimson light that carried age, pride, and unchallenged authority.

Cain’s lips curved faintly.

I’m sure this old vampire was not in the Blood Tower yesterday.

He must have been one of those elders still traveling back after the blood ancestors alerted them to come back.

The old vampire landed heavily, though his feet did not quite touch the ground. He hovered inches above it, his presence alone pressing down on the clearing like a mountain.

The servants immediately scrambled upright despite their injuries.

"Elder Noir!"

"Elder Noir, save young master!"

They rushed toward him, some falling to their knees.

The elder’s gaze swept across the scene. His eyes lingered on Oneal’s battered body lying nearby, blood staining his clothes, breathing ragged and uneven.

A vein bulged at the elder’s temple.

"What," he said slowly, each word grinding like stone, "happened?"

The servants began speaking over one another.

"It was him!"

"It was Cain!"

"He summoned that monster!"

"He ordered it to attack young master!"

"It was deliberate!"

They pointed at Cain with trembling fingers, their voices growing louder with every accusation.

"He laughed while young master was beaten!"

"He pretended he didn’t know what it was!"

"He controls that blood beast!"

"He wanted to kill young master!"

Their fear fed their exaggeration.

What began as a desperate explanation quickly turned into a storm of blame.

"He said he would kill him!"

"He was smiling the whole time!"

"He is insane!"

"He used forbidden magic!"

"He must be hiding his true strength!"

They looked at Noir as if hoping the elder would wipe Cain from existence immediately.

Cain raised an eyebrow.

"Old man, you think someone like me, with a mana mastery of only Blood Infusion Fifth Stage, could control such a powerful beast?"

He said it calmly, even lightly.

"Elder Noir," he added, spreading his hands slightly, "you are experienced. Look at me. Do I look capable of commanding that?"

His voice carried neither fear nor panic.

Noir did not answer.

He did not even glance at Cain properly.

His eyes remained on Oneal for a long second.

Then slowly, painfully slowly, his head turned toward Cain.

He did not speak.

He found him disrespectful.

He doesn’t like that.

So he simply began to float forward.

The distance between them shortened one breath at a time.

Cain stood tall.

He did not flinch.

He did not step back.

The moonlight caught his face, and there was no tremor in his gaze.

Noir’s brows drew together.

Hm?

This fledgling vampire was not afraid?

Most low-level vampires would have already dropped to their knees under his pressure. They would beg. They would cry. They would tremble.

Cain stood as if he were waiting for a casual conversation.

The tension in the clearing thickened.

The air felt heavier.

The trees seemed to lean inward as if watching.

The servants began whispering again.

"You’re dead."

"You’re finished."

"Elder Noir will tear you apart."

"There will be nothing left of you."

"You dared to harm his grandson."

"You’re dead."

Their words grew louder, almost feverish.

"Imagine using a disrespectful tone to elder Noir!"

"Haha! He’s really dead!"

"You’re dead!"

They believed it.

They were certain.

No one offended Elder Noir and survived.

Inside, Cain was smiling.

Finally, some fun.

His mind felt clearer already.

He had been irritated by gaps in memory, by strange sensations in his blood.

But this?

This was simple.

Someone attacking him.

Good.

Perfect.

His plan unfolded neatly in his thoughts.

Let him attack.

Let him strike first.

Once Noir harms me, the restriction of the blood pact will loosen.

Anyone who attacks me directly will not be protected.

Once that happens, I cannot wait to rip his mustache-beard!

Along with his life.

His heart laughed.

I will use their corpses and frame it on someone else.

Lies and claims it was an ambush from a rival faction.

Then lure one of the sisters toward a cracked portal.

Transport the Moonshade family to another plane.

At the same time, make myself look suspicious.

Give them reason to doubt me.

Let them choose divorce.

Clean. Efficient.

Perfect.

As Noir floated closer, Cain’s inner voice grew louder.

Come on, old fossil.

Come closer.

Let me tear that beard apart strand by strand.

Noir stopped only a few steps away.

The pressure around him intensified.

His blood mana began to gather, thick and dark, like storm clouds.

He raised one hand.

The servants held their breath.

Cain waited.

And then—

A weak, broken sound escaped from behind.

"G...grand...father..."

Oneal.

His eyes fluttered open slightly.

The faint squeak froze Noir mid-motion.

The elder’s head snapped toward his grandson.

All killing intent toward Cain vanished in an instant.

"You!" Noir roared at the owl instead.

He moved in a blur.

A wave of blood magic shot from his palm, striking the massive crimson owl square in the chest.

Bang!

The beast was sent flying across the clearing, crashing through trees before slamming into the earth.

The ground shook.

"Grandfather..." Oneal croaked weakly.

Noir rushed to his side, catching him gently.

"Do not speak," Noir said, voice suddenly softer. "I am here."

He turned to the servants.

"Tend to Oneal!"

The servants scrambled, relieved beyond words.

"Yes, Elder Noir!"

They lifted Oneal carefully, checking his wounds, pouring stabilizing blood mana into his body.

Meanwhile, the owl stirred.

Branches cracked.

The massive red beast pushed itself upright again, shaking dirt from its wings.

Noir’s eyes narrowed.

"It still stands?"

He rose slowly, fury returning.

Blood symbols formed around him in intricate layers.

Vampire magic, ancient and refined.

He extended both arms.

From the ground beneath the owl, thick pillars of hardened blood erupted upward, slamming into its body and pinning it in place.

The owl screeched and struggled.

Noir flicked his wrist.

Chains of crimson energy wrapped around the beast’s wings and legs, tightening mercilessly.

The earth split open beneath it.

A pit formed instantly, swallowing the owl’s lower half.

The beast thrashed, sending shockwaves through the forest.

Noir’s voice thundered.

"Buried."

The pit collapsed inward.

Soil, rock, and blood-formed stone crushed down, trapping the owl completely.

Only a faint glow of red remained beneath the surface.

The servants stared in awe.

Such power.

Such control.

The forest fell quiet again.

Noir turned his head slowly toward Cain.

For a brief moment, their eyes met.

Then Noir looked away as if Cain were beneath notice.

Cain tilted his head slightly.

Ignored?

Interesting.

He began walking toward the buried owl.

"You old man killed my beast!!" Cain called out, his voice carrying a tone of concern.

The servants gasped.

Noir’s head snapped back toward him.

His eyes burned.

"So it is yours."

His voice was no longer calm.

It was heavy with promise.

"This time, you will pay for what happened to my grandson."

The air changed.

The moonlight dimmed.

The massive trees surrounding them began to glow faintly red, as if soaked in blood.

The bark darkened.

The leaves took on a crimson hue.

The ground pulsed underfoot.

The servants tending to Oneal trembled.

They felt it in their bones.

This was not mere anger.

This was a blood elder unleashing the depth of his power.

The forest seemed to transform into a sea of red.

The air smelled metallic.

Breathing became difficult.

Even the blood slaves who had seen many punishments before felt fear crawl up their spines.

One whispered, "He is going to erase Cain..."

Another muttered, "No one survives this."

The red glow intensified.

Symbols larger than houses formed behind Noir.

His beard lifted slightly as if stirred by unseen wind.

His eyes locked onto Cain.

Cain felt the pressure.

He felt the weight of true killing intent pressing against his skin.

And inside—

He grinned.

Finally.

Some fucking fun.

Noir raised his hand.

Blood energy gathered into a massive spear above him, crackling with destructive force.

The servants held their breath.

The forest seemed to freeze.

And just as Noir prepared to throw—

"Stop it, Noir!"