My Three Beautiful Vampire Wives can hear my Inner Thoughts-Chapter 115: Chaos Deserter

The Blood Noble who had smiled at the crimson moon did not understand what had just descended upon the battlefield, but he felt it in his veins like liquid fire poured straight from the heavens.

The red light soaked into his skin.

It sank into his blood.

It wrapped around his heart and squeezed.

Then it fed him.

A surge of power burst through every vessel in his body. His muscles tightened, his senses sharpened, his vision cleared until even the smallest movement in the grass ahead appeared slow and obvious.

The first of the upright wild dogs lunged.

The Blood Noble did not hesitate.

He swung his blade in a wide arc, and for the first time in his life, he felt his strike carry a weight that went beyond his own strength. The sword hummed as it cut through air, through wind, through resistance.

The wild dog tried to twist aside.

Too slow.

The blade cleaved through its torso cleanly, splitting bone and flesh as if they were paper. The creature’s body burst apart in a spray of dark blood that glittered under the crimson moonlight.

The Blood Noble stared for half a heartbeat, shocked by how easily it had fallen.

"I... I cut it down in one strike!"

Around him, similar scenes unfolded.

The Blood Knights roared as they charged into the pack. Their armor gleamed red, their eyes glowing brighter than ever before. Each swing of their swords tore through wind blades as though the air itself obeyed them.

Small dogs leapt and were cut midair.

Wind spirals launched toward the vampires only to disperse when met with empowered blood aura.

The battlefield exploded into motion.

"Kill them!"

"Drive them back!"

"Moonshade!"

Blood Slaves who moments ago would have struggled against even one of these beasts now found themselves capable of matching them blow for blow. A slave grabbed an upright dog by its snout and smashed its head against a rock with a savage grin, laughing wildly as bone cracked beneath his hands.

Another noble thrust his palm forward, releasing a wave of blood mana so dense it crushed two beasts at once, their bodies collapsing inward under the pressure.

The wild dogs were thrown into the air like fireworks.

Their bodies rose, twisted, and burst apart under relentless strikes. Crimson light reflected off flying limbs and spraying blood, creating a brutal yet almost beautiful spectacle beneath the unnatural moon.

The larger quadrupedal dogs attempted to regroup, howling commands, but their coordination faltered as the vampires pressed forward with unexpected ferocity.

Wind attacks intensified.

Gusts screamed across the battlefield, tearing up soil and ripping trees from the ground. Yet the Moonshade vampires stood firm, their blood boiling with borrowed might.

"I feel unstoppable!"

"They cannot match us!"

"This is the blessing of our ancestors!"

Their laughter grew louder, rough and hungry.

They went wild.

Knights abandoned strict formation and began charging individually, cutting down prey with reckless joy. Blood Slaves tore into fallen beasts with their bare hands. Nobles cast spells without restraint, their mana pouring out in thick waves that painted the night red.

For a moment, it seemed like absolute victory.

From his perch beyond the battlefield, Cain watched with narrowed eyes.

The scene looked glorious.

It looked triumphant.

It looked like... It looked like something was wrong.

Then he felt it before he saw it.

A tremor not in the ground, but in the blood.

Something beneath the surface of their aura pulsed too violently.

Their veins glowed brighter than they should.

Their breaths grew heavier, faster.

Cain’s jaw tightened.

This is bad.

He had cast Blood Moon casually, almost absentmindedly. To him, it was a basic enhancement spell, one of the lowest in his arsenal, something he could maintain without effort.

But he was not an ordinary caster.

He was an Overgod.

Even the weakest spell from him carried layers of power that far exceeded what this plane could endure.

He had wanted to strengthen them, to give them an edge so they would not be slaughtered.

Instead, he had flooded them with a force their bodies were never meant to hold.

On the battlefield, a Blood Knight suddenly threw his head back and howled.

It was not a cry of victory.

It was raw, feral, almost animalistic.

Another noble dropped to one knee, clutching his chest as veins bulged along his neck, glowing red through pale skin.

"What... what is happening to me?"

"I feel... I feel too much!"

A Blood Slave began laughing uncontrollably, his laughter rising higher and higher until it broke into a shriek. He tore at his own armor as if it burned him, his eyes wide and unfocused.

Then more howls joined.

One after another, Moonshade vampires lifted their heads to the sky and howled like rabid beasts, their voices merging into a chaotic chorus that drowned out even the wind.

Their movements became erratic.

Stronger.

Faster.

But less controlled.

A knight swung his blade with such force that it shattered upon impact with a wild dog’s ribcage, fragments flying back toward his own allies.

Another noble unleashed a blood wave that not only crushed the beasts ahead but also sent two Blood Slaves tumbling backward, coughing blood from the backlash.

They were burning from the inside.

Cain’s heart sank.

He could feel their cores expanding too quickly, their blood condensing at a rate their meridians could not handle.

If this continued for more than half a minute, their bodies would rupture.

They would not fall in battle.

They would explode.

If the explodes, according to his blood pact, he’d die too.

"Damn it," Cain muttered under his breath.

He raised his hand sharply.

The crimson moon above flickered.

The red glow began to dim.

The oppressive aura that blanketed the battlefield thinned as he forcibly withdrew the spell.

Blood Moon faded from the sky.

The natural silver of the moon returned slowly, washing away the unnatural crimson light.

The vampires staggered.

Some dropped to their knees, gasping.

Others trembled violently, clutching their chests.

But the damage had already been done.

Their blood still churned like a storm trapped inside fragile vessels.

Cain inhaled sharply.

That was reckless.

He had underestimated the gap between his power and theirs. Even the lowest spell in his repertoire was overwhelming to them.

"I only wanted to strengthen them," he murmured to himself, frustration tightening his voice.

Instead, he had pushed them to the brink of self destruction.

He could not stabilize them from here.

He needed access to the blood core of the territory.

The Blood Tower.

Without another word, Cain shot forward, his body dissolving into a streak of red light that cut across the battlefield faster than sight could follow.

He flew low over the ground, passing above stunned vampires and scattered beast corpses.

Behind him, confused shouts rose.

"Where is he going?"

"Why is he retreating?"

"He is leaving the field!"

One Blood Knight, still shaking from excess power, pointed with a trembling finger.

"He runs!"

"Deserter!"

Cain did not slow.

He had no time to explain.

He had counted the seconds in his mind.

Thirty.

Thirty seconds before their blood pressure peaked beyond control.

Twenty eight.

He tore through the air at lightning speed, trees blurring into streaks on either side.

Twenty five.

Behind him, the howls intensified again as residual power continued to surge unpredictably within the Moonshade ranks.

Twenty two.

"If he flees now, what does that mean?"

"Stop him!"

"Coward!"

The accusations chased him like arrows, but he ignored them. Pride and reputation meant nothing compared to preventing mass death.

Nineteen.

A noble leapt into the air ahead of him, trying to intercept.

"Where are you going!"

Cain swerved effortlessly, brushing past him like a gust of wind.

Sixteen.

He could already see the distant silhouette of the Blood Tower rising above the territory walls.

Fourteen.

Behind him, more voices joined.

"Stop him!"

"Do not let a deserter escape!"

"He abandons us in war!"

Their morale, once fueled by the red moon, now twisted into suspicion and anger.

Eleven.

A group of Moonshade vampires surged from the side path, their faces hard with outrage. They had not been at the front lines. They had remained near the territory perimeter as reserves.

Now they saw a red streak racing back toward the tower while battle still raged outside.

Eight.

"He runs from battle!"

"Coward!"

"No deserter is allowed in Moonshade!"

Five.

They spread out, forming a barrier across the path leading to the tower gates.

Three.

Cain’s eyes flashed with irritation.

One.

He slowed just enough to avoid crashing straight through them.

The group of vampires stood shoulder to shoulder, weapons drawn, blood aura flaring weakly but defiantly.

"No deserter is allowed," one of them growled, stepping forward. "Turn back and fight."

Cain’s gaze swept across their determined yet ignorant faces.

Time was running out.