My Three Beautiful Vampire Wives can hear my Inner Thoughts-Chapter 103: Elder’s challenge

Zenaya stood frozen for several long breaths, her crimson eyes locked on the massive owl as though it were a dream that might fade if she blinked.

The forest still trembled faintly from the force of its earlier rise, loose dirt sliding down from broken roots, leaves fluttering down in slow spirals around its towering frame.

She had seen it buried.

She had felt Noir’s mana crush down upon it like a mountain.

She knew the weight behind that attack, knew the depth of that power.

And yet here it stood.

Alive.

Not crawling.

Not barely breathing.

Alive and glaring.

Her fingers tightened at her sides. "This... is impossible," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "It took Noir’s full strike head on. I saw the pressure. I felt it in my bones. That was not something a mere blood beast should endure."

The owl tilted its head slightly, its golden-red eyes narrowing as if amused.

Cain scratched the back of his neck, acting as though he were simply an embarrassed boy caught with a dangerous pet. "You want to have it?" he asked casually. "If you like it, I can give it to you."

Zenaya blinked and looked at him sharply. "Give it... to me?"

Cain shrugged, though inside his mind memories rose one after another, clear and detailed like scenes painted on glass.

In his previous life, Zenaya had always been fascinated by beasts. Not just any beasts, but rare blood beasts that could grow alongside their masters. He remembered watching her from a distance during those days, watching her kneel in forests thick with blood mana, reaching out carefully to wounded creatures with gentle hands and hopeful eyes.

He remembered the first time she had tried to tame a crimson horned wolf. She had spent weeks preparing for it, gathering rare herbs, studying its habits, learning its cries. When the moment came, she had approached slowly, speaking softly, offering her mana like a bridge.

The wolf had bitten her hand.

Not playfully.

Not as a warning.

It had torn into her flesh and run.

She had not even been angry. She had only looked down at her bleeding palm and whispered, "Maybe I moved too fast."

Then there had been the black-winged serpent she found near the edge of the Crimson Marsh.

That one had coiled around her arm as if accepting her, and for a brief moment Cain had thought she would succeed. But the bond ritual had failed. Her mana had been rejected, spat back at her like poison. She had coughed blood for three days afterward.

Still she did not give up.

Again and again she tried.

A bone-backed lizard that burned her sleeve.

A pale fox that vanished the moment she tried to link minds.

A feral blood hawk that gouged her shoulder so deeply it left a scar she hid beneath her dress.

Cain remembered how many times she had stood alone afterward, staring at her empty hands, her lips pressed together in quiet frustration. Her talent with blood mana was extraordinary, her combat strength terrifying, yet when it came to beasts, something always slipped through her fingers. The connection never held. The bond never rooted itself.

Her affinity was too weak.

That was the cruel truth.

She loved beasts.

Beasts did not love her back.

Now she stood before this monstrous owl that had survived Noir’s wrath.

"May I inspect it?" she asked suddenly, her voice regaining its calm tone, though there was something bright in her eyes.

Cain nodded without hesitation. "As you wish, Elder."

Zenaya approached slowly.

The owl did not move.

Its massive body loomed over her, feathers thick and layered like dark armor. Blood mana pulsed faintly through its veins, visible beneath the surface like rivers of red light. Its claws were still stained from earlier, the ground beneath them cracked and uneven.

Zenaya raised her hand carefully and placed it against the owl’s side.

She closed her eyes.

Inside her mind she replayed Noir’s attack. She remembered the moment he lifted his hand, the way the air had grown heavy, the way blood mana had gathered like a storm cloud above the owl. She remembered the crushing force that had slammed down, the earth splitting open, the sound of impact echoing like thunder.

That strike had been meant to kill.

Noir did not hold back when he attacked beasts.

Zenaya’s fingers moved along the owl’s body, pressing gently, feeling for fractures, for internal damage, for disruptions in mana flow.

Nothing.

She moved to its wing joints, running her palm along the thick bones beneath the feathers.

Strong.

Unharmed.

She leaned closer, placing her ear against its chest.

Its heartbeat was steady. Deep. Calm.

Her brows furrowed.

She sent a thin thread of her own blood mana into its body, probing carefully.

The mana channels inside were wide and smooth, like polished tunnels carved through stone. There were no tears. No cracks. No signs of strain.

"How..." she whispered.

She walked around it slowly, inspecting every angle. The feathers that had taken the brunt of Noir’s strike were not even bent. The flesh beneath them showed no bruising.

She pressed her hand harder against its side this time, pushing more mana in.

The owl did not resist.

It simply watched her with one eye, almost bored.

Zenaya stepped back, her heart beating faster.

"I am at the peak of Blood Condensation," she said quietly. "I have stood at this realm for decades. Yet standing this close... I feel intimidated."

Cain’s lips twitched faintly.

Lady, even you can only hope to scratch it, what can that weak old fossil Noir do?

Zenaya’s eyes snapped toward him.

"What?"

Cain blinked innocently. "What?"

"You said I cannot beat it?" she demanded, a faint edge entering her voice.

Cain’s mind went blank for half a second.

He had not spoken aloud.

Then realization struck him.

She can hear my thoughts?

He looked at her with a bewildered look.

Meanwhile, Zenaya swallowed lightly, she realized her mistake so she just straightened her posture to hide her action. "I mean," she said, trying to sound casual, "look at your face. You look like you are thinking I cannot beat it."

Cain exhaled slowly in relief.

"I would not dare, Elder," he said politely.

Inside his mind, however, his voice laughed.

In your dreams you can.

Zenaya heard it.

Every word.

Her fingers twitched.

Insulted.

She felt it clearly now.

This brat.

She cleared her throat, forcing her expression back to calm. "This is indeed a powerful beast," she said evenly. "To ignore Noir’s attack so completely... such resilience is rare even among ancient blood beasts."

She circled the owl again, her gaze sharp and focused. "At your age, to possess something like this... it is extraordinary. Do you understand how rare this is? Even high elders struggle for centuries to obtain beasts of this level."

Cain tilted his head. "So?"

"So," she continued, her voice carrying more weight, "I would like to test it." 𝓯𝓻𝒆𝙚𝒘𝓮𝙗𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝒍.𝙘𝓸𝙢

"Test it?" Cain raised a brow. "Why?"

"To understand its limits," she replied. "To see how far its strength extends. A beast that can withstand Noir may be capable of far more. If it grows unchecked, it may even rival ancient guardians. I need to know."

Cain stared at her for a moment.

He remembered her past life efforts. Her endless attempts. The way she would sit alone after failures, staring at the horizon with a stubborn light in her eyes.

Maybe she just wants to see.

Maybe she just wants to feel it.

He did not realize that beneath her calm words there was another reason.

She wanted to prove something.

To herself.

To him.

He folded his arms. "You are really that curious?"

Zenaya nodded once. "Yes."

Cain studied her face. There was excitement there. Controlled, but real.

He shrugged. "Fine. If you want to try, try."

The owl turned its head toward him, awaiting instruction.

Zenaya stepped back several paces, creating distance between them. The forest around them seemed to hold its breath again, the earlier tension replaced by something different, something focused.

She rolled her shoulders lightly, loosening her muscles. Blood mana began to gather around her, not in a violent surge like Noir’s, but in a steady, rising current.

"I will not aim to kill," she said. "I only want to measure."

Cain waved a hand casually. "Do whatever you want."

Inside, he grinned.

Like hell you will.

Zenaya lifted her chin slightly, her long hair swaying behind her as mana thickened around her form. The ground beneath her feet darkened as blood energy seeped outward, coiling like living mist.

She looked at Cain one last time.

"You are certain?" she asked.

Cain smiled faintly. "Very."

Zenaya inhaled deeply, then nodded to herself.

"Alright," she said, her eyes gleaming now with both challenge and pride. "Alright."

She raised her hand slowly, crimson light pooling into her palm as her aura expanded outward.

"Let’s begin."