My Three Beautiful Vampire Wives can hear my Inner Thoughts-Chapter 178: Overgod’s Dream Illusion

Cain did not wake up to pain.

He did not wake up to the weight of his body or the rough cold of the floor where he had fallen.

Instead, he opened his eyes into something that did not feel like waking at all.

It felt like he had stepped into a place that existed outside of waking and sleeping, a place that had no clear beginning and no clear end.

A world made of mist.

Dark.

Endless.

Silent.

"...What is this..."

The words left his mouth, but even his own voice sounded distant to him, as if it had been swallowed before it could truly exist. The air around him did not echo. It did not carry sound. It simply let it disappear.

Cain stood still for a moment, trying to understand where he was.

The ground beneath his feet was strange. It was not solid in the way stone or soil would be, but it did not feel unstable either. It felt like standing on something that only pretended to be ground, something that allowed him to exist there without revealing what it truly was.

He looked down.

Nothing clear.

Just darkness covered by drifting mist.

He looked up.

Still nothing.

No sky.

No stars.

No light source.

Only a heavy, quiet emptiness that stretched in all directions.

"...Did I pass out?"

His hand moved slightly, as if testing whether his body would respond the way it should.

It did.

Slowly.

But something felt off.

He blinked.

Then tried again.

"...Close."

His eyes did not respond.

They stayed open.

Unmoving.

"...What?"

He focused, trying harder.

"...Close."

Nothing.

His vision remained the same, unchanged, locked in place.

A faint crease formed between his brows.

"...I can’t even blink?"

He raised his hand toward his face, trying to cover his eyes manually, but even that felt delayed, like his movements were not entirely his own.

"...This isn’t normal."

He lowered his hand again, his gaze sweeping across the empty space around him.

"...A dream?"

No.

It did not feel like a dream.

Dreams were unstable.

They bent and twisted, forming images from memory or thought.

This place—

Was too still.

Too quiet.

Too complete in its emptiness.

"...Then what is it?"

Cain took a step forward.

The ground did not resist him.

But it did not feel like he was walking on anything real either.

Each step felt like he was moving through a place that had no true form, like he was the only solid thing in a world that had not been finished yet.

Another step.

Then another.

The mist drifted slowly around him, but it did not part in any natural way. It moved like it was aware of him, like it was adjusting to his presence rather than reacting to it.

"...This is getting annoying."

He kept walking.

There was no direction.

No landmarks.

No changes in the environment.

Just the same endless stretch of dark mist that made it impossible to tell if he was moving at all.

"...Am I even going anywhere?"

He stopped.

Turned slightly.

Then walked again.

Still the same.

"...No difference."

A faint irritation crept into his voice.

"...So this place doesn’t care about distance either."

He exhaled slowly.

"...Great."

Silence answered him.

The kind of silence that felt heavier the longer it stayed.

Cain continued walking anyway.

Step after step, his movements steady, controlled, his mind working through possibilities even as the environment refused to give him anything to work with.

"...If this is tied to the blood pact..."

His gaze narrowed slightly.

"...Then this isn’t random."

Another step.

"...There’s a purpose."

He stopped again.

This time, not because he chose to.

But because—

Something changed.

Not in the environment.

Not in the mist.

But in the feeling.

"...Someone’s here."

His body stilled.

His senses sharpened instantly.

He did not need sight to confirm it.

He felt it.

A presence.

Faint.

Distant.

But real.

"...Where?"

His head turned slowly.

Left.

Right.

Forward.

Behind.

Nothing.

The mist remained unchanged.

The silence remained absolute.

But the feeling did not go away.

"...Don’t tell me..."

His voice lowered slightly.

"...You’re hiding."

He took a step forward again.

"...Show yourself."

No answer.

No movement.

Nothing.

Cain’s expression hardened slightly.

"...You’re watching me, aren’t you?"

Still nothing.

The presence remained.

Just out of reach.

Just beyond his ability to pinpoint it.

"...Coward."

He let out a quiet breath.

"...If you’re here, then you can hear me."

He turned slowly, scanning the empty space again.

"...So stop wasting time."

"...Come out."

Silence answered him once more.

But this time—

It felt different.

Not empty.

But deliberate.

Like something was choosing not to respond.

Cain’s irritation grew.

"...Fine."

He rolled his shoulder slightly.

"...Let’s do it your way."

He began to move again, but now his steps carried more purpose, his senses focused entirely on tracking that faint presence that refused to reveal itself. 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝒆𝔀𝒆𝙗𝓷𝒐𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝓶

"...You’re not gone."

"...I can still feel you."

He paused.

Then turned sharply.

"...Right?"

Nothing.

"...Or maybe you’re over here."

He moved again.

"...No..."

Another turn.

"...Then here?"

Still nothing.

Minutes passed.

Or maybe longer.

Time did not feel clear in this place.

Cain kept searching.

Turning.

Walking.

Stopping.

Listening.

But every time he thought he got closer—

The presence slipped away.

Not physically.

But in perception.

Like trying to catch something that refused to stay still long enough to be found.

"...This is getting old."

His voice dropped slightly.

"...Stop playing."

No answer.

He stood still again.

Then—

A sound.

Faint.

Very faint.

Like something far away.

A whisper.

No—

A laugh.

Soft.

Light.

Echoing from somewhere he could not see.

Cain’s eyes narrowed.

"...There you are."

The sound faded quickly.

But it was enough.

"...So you can make noise."

A faint smirk touched his lips.

"...Good."

His fingers curled slightly.

"...Now I can track you."

He raised his hand slowly.

Dark red energy began to gather around his fingers, forming thin threads that stretched outward into the mist like searching veins.

"...Blood doesn’t lie."

His voice was calm again.

Focused.

"...Even here."

The threads spread further, reaching into the space around him, feeling, searching, probing for anything that could be traced back to that sound.

"...Let’s see how far you can run."

He flicked his fingers slightly.

The threads shot outward.

Then—

Stopped.

"...Nothing?"

His brows furrowed.

"...No trace?"

He adjusted the flow.

"...Again."

More threads.

More reach.

More focus.

"...Still nothing..."

The laugh echoed again.

A little clearer this time.

Still distant.

Still out of reach.

Cain’s jaw tightened.

"...You’re avoiding it."

He changed the spell.

The threads thickened, growing stronger, spreading wider.

"...Let’s push deeper."

They reached further this time, cutting through the mist, digging into the space itself as if trying to tear something hidden out into the open.

"...Come on..."

The threads trembled.

Then—

Snapped.

Gone.

Like they had never existed.

Cain stared for a moment.

"...You erased it?"

The laugh came again.

Closer.

But still not close enough.

"...Annoying."

He lifted his hand again.

Another spell.

Then another.

Each one more focused.

More aggressive.

More precise.

"...Blood trace."

"...Echo binding."

"...Scent lock."

One after another, he cast them, layering his magic into the space around him, trying to force a reaction, trying to corner whatever was hiding from him.

"...You can’t hide forever."

But every spell—

Failed.

Not destroyed.

Not blocked.

Just—

Ignored.

As if the target simply refused to exist within their reach.

Cain exhaled slowly.

"...So that’s how it is."

His gaze darkened slightly.

"...You don’t want to play properly."

He lowered his hand.

Then raised it again.

"...Fine."

His voice dropped.

"...Then let’s make this simple."

The energy around him changed.

Not just concentrated.

But heavy.

Dense.

Dangerous.

"...Try this."

The words came out low.

And then—

He unleashed it.

Overgod Blood.

The power surged outward in a violent wave, tearing through the mist, shaking the very space around him as if the world itself could not handle the force being pushed into it.

The ground beneath him cracked.

Or at least—

It looked like it did.

The mist tore apart, ripped open by the sheer pressure of his power, revealing nothing beneath but more darkness.

Cain did not stop.

"...Still hiding?"

Another surge.

Stronger.

The space trembled again, the silent world finally reacting, finally breaking under the pressure he forced into it.

"...Come out!"

He pushed further.

More power.

More force.

More destruction.

Each attack sent shockwaves through the endless mist, ripping it apart, scattering it, forcing the world to respond even if it refused to show him what was behind it.

"...You think I can’t find you?"

His voice echoed now, not because the world allowed it, but because his power forced it to exist.

"...Then I’ll destroy everything until there’s nowhere left to hide!"

Another wave.

Another explosion of blood energy.

The space cracked again, deeper this time, as if something beneath it was starting to give way.

Cain’s breathing grew heavier.

But he did not stop.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Each attack larger than the last.

Each one pushing the world closer to breaking.

Until—

He stopped.

His chest rose and fell slowly.

"...Still..."

He looked around.

The mist was torn apart in places.

The ground distorted.

The silence broken.

But—

"...Nothing."

No figure.

No clear presence.

Just that same distant feeling.

And then—

A sound.

Not a laugh.

Not a whisper.

Something else.

Something closer.

Something clearer.

Cain’s eyes widened slightly.

"...What..."

He turned toward it.

Listening.

And for the first time—

He was not annoyed.

He was—

Shocked.