My Three Beautiful Vampire Wives can hear my Inner Thoughts-Chapter 86: Murderous Overgod

At first, it was subtle.

So subtle that if one were not sensitive to the flow of blood mana, they might have mistaken it for imagination.

A faint tremor moved through the air, like the quiet hum before a storm gathers strength beyond the horizon.

The candles lining the grand hall flickered though no wind passed through the sealed chamber.

Phewsh! Phewsh! Phewsh!

The polished black stone floor seemed to vibrate ever so slightly beneath their feet.

Cain stood still at the center of it all.

His posture remained humble. His shoulders were slightly lowered. His expression was calm, almost resigned.

But his eyes slowly lifted.

And in the depths of those crimson pupils, something shimmered.

Ecstasy.

Not the loud kind. Not madness spilling out carelessly.

It was controlled. Refined. A secret delight blooming behind a mask of composure.

The strange aura continued to spread outward from him like invisible ripples in water. It did not carry pressure. It did not carry hostility. It was something far more unsettling.

It was anticipation.

The vampires felt it.

One by one, their brows furrowed. Their instincts stirred. Something brushed against their senses, something cold and sharp and waiting.

"What is this feeling?" one muttered under his breath.

Another turned toward Cornelia, whose body remained frozen in the center of the hall.

"It’s Madam Cornelia," someone whispered.

"She must be releasing her bloodline aura."

"That must be it. She is angry."

The idea spread quickly, like fire catching dry leaves.

"She is furious."

"Of course she is. We have pushed her too far."

"But even so..."

Their gazes hardened again.

Even if she was angry.

Even if she opposed them.

For the Moonshade family’s future, they could not retreat.

The thought settled into their hearts with brutal clarity.

If she refused to divorce him, then they would do what was necessary.

Killing intent surged again.

It was no longer hesitant.

No longer merely testing.

It was determined.

Sharp blades of murderous will rose from every direction, pressing inward toward Cain like an invisible execution ground forming around him.

To them, it was simple logic.

Even if they had to die at her claws.

Even if Cornelia cut them down in rage.

If eliminating Cain protected her future and preserved the Moonshade bloodline, then their deaths would be honorable.

"Forgive us, Madam Cornelia," someone whispered hoarsely, though their eyes never left Cain.

"For the future of the Moonshade family..."

More killing intent erupted.

It was suffocating now.

Heavy.

Dense.

Like a sea of blades suspended in the air.

Cain felt every single strand of it.

And inside his mind—

Ah.

His lips nearly trembled with pleasure.

Yes.

Yes, that’s it.

He swallowed the laugh threatening to escape his throat.

More.

He wanted to raise his arms and welcome it.

Please, more.

Let me savor these tastes of pure raw killing intent.

As an Overgod, it had been ages since he had felt pure and raw killing intent, even the intensity of the killing intent from the group of Gods Above All cannot be compared to this.

He fucking loved this!

This feeling was so rare for him!

He loved how brazen they are.

The pressure pressed against his skin like warm water. It crawled along his veins like electricity.

This is what I’ve been waiting for.

He inhaled slowly, savoring the sensation.

"More," he whispered inwardly, voice low and intoxicated. "More, more, more."

His heart beat steadily, not from fear but from excitement.

The blood pact restrained him. Bound him. Prevented him from harming those who did not harbor killing intent toward him.

But now?

Now the intent was undeniable.

Clear.

Pure.

He just needed them to make the first move!

The edges of his consciousness tingled.

Give me more.

The killing intent intensified further, feeding his inner delight.

He nearly swayed.

But then—

A dry cough cut through the air.

One of the ten pale bald ancestors cleared his throat.

The sound was not loud, yet it carried authority that rippled through the hall.

Instantly, the killing intent receded.

Not gone.

But suppressed.

Like wolves lowering their heads at the command of an elder beast.

Cain blinked slowly.

The sudden absence of pressure left him almost... disappointed.

Ah.

He glanced toward the row of ancient figures.

So, what are you planning? Old heads?

The ancestors stood like carved statues, their expressions unreadable.

Then, unexpectedly, one stepped forward.

His skin was pale to the point of being almost gray. His head was smooth and bare, veins faintly visible beneath thin flesh. His crimson eyes were dim yet sharp, carrying the weight of centuries.

And then—

He knelt.

The entire hall gasped.

An ancestor.

Kneeling.

Before Cornelia.

Cain, who was skeptical, seemed to foresee what the old ancestor was about to do.

Heh! Such a daring old man. But I know what you’re planning.

He clapped his hands sharply, exuding a menacing aura as he gazed at the old bald vampire before him.

Continue! Continue! Make the spectacle grow!

He gave him a nod.

If you apply more pressure to her and make it big, I won’t turn you into a pill, but I’ll make sure to let you watch your descendants be deleted one by one right before your very eyes.

The old vampire who had no idea how much cruelty Cain planned for him lowered his head respectfully.

"I," he began, voice deep and dry like old parchment, "am Ghurn Moonshade."

His name echoed through the chamber.

"I became a Baron at the age of one hundred and thirty years," he continued steadily. "At that time, I was the youngest Baron the Moonshade family had produced in nearly two centuries."

Murmurs stirred softly among the kneeling vampires.

"For forty years, I held the title of Baron," Ghurn went on, his voice unwavering. "For forty years, I expanded our territory, strengthened our alliances, crushed enemies who dared to encroach upon our lands. I have bled for this family. I have killed for this family. I have watched brothers fall beside me on battlefields soaked in crimson."

His fingers pressed lightly against the stone floor.

"I have seen the Moonshade family on the brink of ruin. I have seen us claw our way back from extinction. Every generation carries a burden. Every generation must protect what was built before them."

He slowly lifted his head, his aged eyes resting upon Cornelia with an intensity that was not hostility but devotion.

"When I was elevated to Ancestor, I swore that until my final breath, I would guard this family’s future."

His voice trembled faintly, not from weakness but from sincerity.

"I have watched countless talents bloom and wither. I have seen bloodlines rise and collapse. But never... never have I witnessed a princess level bloodline like yours."

The hall grew still again.

"You are the dawn we have waited for," Ghurn said softly. "The hope that our lineage may ascend beyond Baron. Beyond Count. Perhaps even further."

He paused.

"And because of that... I must speak words that may wound you."

Cain watched with faint amusement in his eyes.

Yes! Yes! Yes!

This is the play.

This is the play I’ve been waiting for...

Ghurn lowered his gaze again.

"Madam Cornelia, I am loyal to the Moonshade family above all else. Even above my own pride. Even above my own life."

His tone softened, almost apologetic.

"I understand that marriage binds hearts. I understand that bonds are not easily severed."

He inhaled slowly.

"But your future cannot be tainted."

The word hung heavy.

"I do not despise him," Ghurn said carefully, though he did not look at Cain. "But his bloodline has fallen to a level that threatens your own. If you remain bound to him, your growth will be hindered. Your offspring will be weakened. The Moonshade family’s chance to rise will diminish."

His shoulders bowed slightly.

"Forgive this old fool for speaking so bluntly."

He pressed his forehead to the ground.

"But I beg you... for your own sake, and for the sake of the Moonshade family... divorce him."

The weight of his plea crushed down like a mountain.

The other vampires understood instantly.

Even one of the ancestors supported separation.

Even Ghurn Moonshade, who had dedicated centuries to the clan’s survival.

So, how could they stop?

Hope surged among them.

They lifted their heads slightly.

"Madam Cornelia!"

"Please listen to Ancestor Ghurn!"

"For the Moonshade family!"

"Please separate!"

Their voices rose again, pleading, desperate, insistent.

On the outside, Cain remained quiet.

On the inside—

Yes. HAHAHAHAHAHA!

He nearly applauded.

That’s it.

Push her.

Pressure her.

More.

He grinned inwardly.

"Very good," he murmured in his mind. "Exactly like that."

He could almost see the threads tightening around Cornelia’s heart.

Come on.

Say it.

Divorce me.

My beloved Cornelia.

If hate for me doesn’t work then next was to apply pressure.

For sure, as loyal as you in the Moonshade family would give in.

So now, give it to this Overgod!

Grant their wish to die in my claws!

He imagined the moment the blood pact would snap.

The freedom.

The unrestrained slaughter.

"More," he encouraged silently. "More pressure. Don’t stop."

He felt the ancestors’ eyes observing him from the side, measuring, calculating.

He did not care.

Just a little more.

He leaned slightly closer to Cornelia, as if offering silent support, while inwardly urging the crowd onward.

"Yes," he whispered internally, his voice dark with anticipation. "Like that. Corner her. Give her no escape. Just a little more..."

The hall vibrated with collective insistence.

And then—

Something moved.

Cain blinked.

Huh?

A pulse.

Not from himself.

From the woman in his arms.

Before he could fully process it—

An aura exploded outward from Cornelia’s body.