My Wives Are Seven Beautiful Demonesses-Chapter 122 - No. Battle Maniac Surfaces!

[Location: Dungeon—Vampire King’s Castle]

Veyrath’s head tilted, the silver-crimson glare meeting mine. He didn’t speak—no need. The aura alone whispered centuries of aristocratic contempt and a thirst for eradication.

I lunged.

Laughter bubbled in my chest as the rush finally hit—the kind that made sane people run and monsters grin. Muramasa met Veyrath’s descending claw.

CLAAAAANG!

The shockwave spider-webbed the marble floor beneath us, dust exploding upward in a smokey ring.

Veyrath’s lips curled.

"A mortal-born mongrel dares meet my strike head-on?"

"A mortal-born mongrel just stopped it," I corrected, pushing his claw back with a grin I absolutely should not have had on my face.

CLAAAAANG—CRASH!

Veyrath slid back a half-step, boots grinding deep gouges into the marble as his eyes widened a fraction. Only a fraction—he was still too proud to show more.

But I felt it.

That tiny ripple in his aura.

Surprise.

Good.

I lived for that.

My grin stretched wider.

"You... enjoyed that," Veyrath muttered, nostrils flaring. "You actually enjoyed clashing with me."

"Enjoyed?" I snorted. "Buddy, I’m trying not to kiss you out of excitement."

Veyrath’s face twisted in regal offense.

Good.

Before he could reply, my foot slammed into the ground—

BOOM!

I shot forward, Muramasa flashing upward like a rising scarlet star.

Veyrath’s instincts finally overrode his arrogance. His wings flared, each feather vibrating with condensed mana.

WHIP—SHING!

A barrage of golden feathers shot toward me.

My pulse spiked.

Observation Grid—ON.

Time stretched.

Every feather became a glowing thread in my vision—predictable. Traceable.

My grin sharpened.

Conqueror’s Will — Pressure Pulse.

B A N G!

An invisible shockwave exploded from me, scattering half the feathers like leaves before a hurricane. I slashed through the rest—

SHING! SHING! SHING!

Muramasa hummed with hungry delight.

Veyrath’s eyes narrowed. "That blade... it sings. It longs to carve nobility."

"Nah," I said. "It just wants to carve you."

I appeared in front of him.

No warning. No sound.

Just speed.

His eyes widened as Muramasa came down—

"DIV—"

Veyrath roared, aura exploding—

"UNHOLY BLOOD BASTION!"

A tower of crimson-gold erupted around him.

My blade hit the barrier.

KRRRRRRAAAAAK—!

Cracks spiralled across it instantly.

His expression?

Disbelief.

"...Impossible."

"Welcome to the club," I said and—

KICKED the barrier.

The entire bastion SHATTERED like brittle glass.

Veyrath stumbled back, coughing blood, one hand clutching his chest.

He stared at me.

Really stared—

As if he had been misreading the entire fight until now.

"...You’re not normal," he whispered.

"Thanks," I said cheerfully. "I’ve been working on it."

His wings rose, trembling—not with weakness, but excitement.

A manic grin split across his elegant face.

"GOOD!"

The castle trembled as Veyrath unleashed his full aura, the floor cracking into spiderweb fractures.

"I was worried Alexios died to a weakling!" he roared, voice booming through the chamber. "But you—YOU ARE WORTHY OF SLAUGHTER!"

"Oh?" I twirled Muramasa on my finger. "Does this mean we’re bonding?"

He blurred.

I blurred.

The world cracked.

BAAAAAAAM!

We met in the middle of the collapsing hallway, claw to blade, aura to aura, grinning like psychos who finally found the right opponent.

"Hey! I was talking, and how do you know that I killed Alexios?"

Veyrath’s grin stretched wider, fangs flashing like polished bone.

"If Alexios were still alive," he said, voice dropping into a velvet growl, "you wouldn’t be standing here."

His claw twisted against Muramasa, grinding mana against steel until sparks flared between our faces.

"My lord’s right hand does not lose. He does not fail. He does not fall unless the one before him..."

His eyes gleamed with manic delight.

"...is strong enough to amuse him to death."

I snorted. "Wow. So you’re saying I’m funny?"

"I’m saying," Veyrath said, pushing hard against my blade—

forcing me back a step—

"that you killed a battle maniac."

He leaned forward.

"And that makes you—"

BOOM!

The floor exploded under his feet.

"—my FAVORITE TOY!"

He vanished.

But not to my eyes.

Observation Grid flared, threads of motion weaving across my vision like lines drawn by an angry god.

"Left."

I spun.

CLAAAAANG!!

Muramasa caught his claw a millimetre from my throat.

Veyrath’s laughter rang through the crumbling hall.

"GOOD! GOOD! GOOD!!"

Each "GOOD" came with a shockwave of aura, cracking walls, shaking pillars, and peeling dust from the ceiling.

"You react... without thought.

You kill... without hesitation.

You FIGHT—"

He kicked off the wall, wings flaring open like twin suns, streaking toward me in a blur.

"—LIKE A MAN POSSESSED!"

I met him head-on.

Our auras crashed.

Black lightning. Crimson wind. Marble shredding like wet paper.

We slammed through a column—

CRASH—!!!

—and skidded across a shattered balcony.

Veyrath grabbed me by the collar mid-slide and slammed me into the railing.

"Tell me your name, warrior," he hissed.

"Tell me the name of the one who slew Alexios."

I spat blood to the side and grinned at him.

"Dominic."

His pupils dilated.

"Dominic..." he whispered reverently, as if tasting it.

"Race?"

Veyrath’s grip tightened on my collar, claws digging through the fabric, almost piercing my skin.

His breath fanned against my face—cold, ancient, murderous.

"Race?" he repeated, voice trembling with anticipation. "Tell me what species birthed something like you."

I tilted my head.

A sane man would’ve lied.

A careful man would’ve refused.

A normal man would’ve hesitated.

But right now?

I was riding a combat high so intense I could’ve proposed marriage to a blender.

So I leaned forward until our foreheads almost touched and said—

"...Handsome."

Veyrath blinked.

Once.

Twice.

The entire castle seemed to pause with him.

Then—

HAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

His laughter ripped through the hallway like a shockwave, shattering what little glass remained in the ruined castle walls.

"You—!"

Another roar of laughter.

"You dare—!"

He wheezed.

"You answer a proud Noble Elder with handsome?!"

"Hey," I shrugged while pinned to the railing, "if the race fits."

His gaze sharpened to a lethal glint.

"Human? Demon? Angel? Hybrid?"

"Classified."

His claws twitched.

"Classi—?!"

I flicked Muramasa upward, its blade humming an eager note.

"I said what I said."

Veyrath’s eyes narrowed. The manic joy rolled into something sharper—obsessive, predatory interest.

"A secretive fighter... an unknown race... a weapon that sings... speed enough to kill Alexios... and an aura that defies sense."

His wings extended fully, each feather trembling with excitement, dripping with golden-crimson mana that cracked the air around us.

"Dominic..." he purred.

"You are becoming more and more—"

His claws shot toward my heart—

"—FASCINATING."

I slipped under them.

Barely.

A thin line of heat burned across my chest where the tips grazed my skin.

Veyrath’s pupils blew wide.

"You dodged that," he whispered, almost lovingly. "You should not have dodged that."

I planted a foot on the railing behind me.

"Guess I’m naturally uncooperative."

"Or naturally suicidal."

"Tomato, tomahto."

His expression sharpened to a razor’s edge.

"Very well."

The temperature plummeted.

The air thickened.

Veyrath’s aura condensed so suddenly that the world blurred for a second.

Then—

FWOOOOOM—!

His silhouette vanished.

No sound.

No wind.

Just erasure.

A spike of killing intent flashed behind me—

Observation Grid flared—

"Right."

I turned—

Too slow.

SPURT!

Blood flowed like a fresh geyser from my sides, as I could see my ribs—

"—peeking. Cute."

Veyrath’s voice purred beside my ear.

I hadn’t even heard him move.

Cold fingers trailed along the wound with almost reverent curiosity.

"You bleed beautifully, Dominic."

I hissed and twisted away, Muramasa cleaving upward—

SHIIING!

Air tore apart.

Veyrath leaned back just enough that the blade brushed his throat—a whisper away from decapitation.

His smile widened.

"Oh yes," he breathed, "that’s the expression I wanted."

My wounds throbbed. Not just bleeding—

his claws carried something else.

Something corrosive.

My vision flickered.

My knees dipped.

Not good.

"MY KING!"

Astra’s voice crashed into the battlefield like a thrown boulder, snapping through the haze of blood loss and adrenaline.

Her silhouette burst through the settling dust — A feminine figure wrapped in flowing blood-ink shadows, hair long and drifting like a silk banner in moonlight—rose-pink at the tips, but darkening into void-black at the roots. A cracked porcelain mask covered half her face, revealing only one glowing eye: A golden eye.

But now the eyes were wide with panic and absolute fury.

Veyrath didn’t even turn. He just smiled, claw still stained with my blood.

"A distraction," he murmured. "How disappointing."

Astra lunged.

"STAY AWAY FROM HIM!"

Her fist — wrapped in concentrated destruction — shot toward Veyrath’s temple.

Veyrath caught it with two fingers.

Two.

The air BOOMED from the impact, the castle foundation screaming in protest as the shockwave spread like cracks across the entire chamber.

He tilted his head, examining Astra the way one might examine a pretty but uninteresting gemstone.

"...You are loud," he said.

Astra gritted her teeth, shadows struggling as she tried to force her fist forward. "Touch him again— I’ll erase you."

Veyrath’s smile twitched.

Not with fear.

With annoyance.

"Do not interrupt the dance."

He flicked his wrist.

Just a flick.

Astra went FLYING — smashing through a half-collapsed pillar, then the floor, then a lower floor beneath that. Dust and broken stone exploded downward like a meteor impact.

"Astra!" I shouted—

But my legs buckled.

Shit.

The corrosive effect in my wound crawled deeper, eating sensation like a starving parasite. My ribs throbbed with raw heat, vision doubling for an instant.

Veyrath glanced at my bleeding side, amused.

"Your shadow’s loyalty is touching," he said. "But unnecessary. Our duel was beautiful... and she disrupted it."

I steadied Muramasa, forcing my breathing to level.

"Yeah? Well, newsflash— I multitask."

The manic joy returned to Veyrath’s crimson-gold gaze.

"Oh, Dominic..." he sighed, wings trembling with delight.

"You are deteriorating. Bleeding. Weakening... yet still posturing."

He stepped closer.

"And it makes you PERFECT."

A chill rolled down my spine.

Not fear.

Excitement.

But I wasn’t stupid — this bastard was escalating to kill-mode.

My side pulsed again — black veins creeping out from the wound like living ink.

System window flickered, hidden beneath my consciousness:

[WARNING: Unknown Elder Toxin detected.]

[Vitality decreasing.]

[Recommended: Remove the source or reinforce with Will.]

No shit.

Veyrath leaned in, voice dropping to a cold whisper:

"You should fall soon. Your blood can’t withstand the venom my claws deliver. Most beings die within seconds."

His smile sharpened.

"But you’re still alive... fascinating."

I forced my stance steady.

"Sorry to disappoint."

I lifted Muramasa.

"I’m hard to kill."

His wings twitched.

"Funny thing, that’s what Alexios said to me, too."

Before I could move—

Veyrath vanished.

The world FROZE for a heartbeat.

Instinct screamed—

Behind—!

I swung blindly —

CLAAAAANG!!

Muramasa met something solid — a claw aimed for my spine.

Veyrath’s grin sharpened, eyes glowing with feral delight.

"Still reactive," he whispered. "Still standing. Still fighting."

His claw pushed forward—

My muscles buckled—

Blood dripped from the hilt of my sword—

But I held.

"Dominic," he breathed, "don’t fall yet."

He leaned forward, forehead nearly touching mine.

"Break more. Bleed more. Fight more. SHOW ME EVERYTHING."

"You talk... too much..." I grunted, pressing back with everything left in me.

He chuckled.

"And you bleed beautifully."

His free hand lifted again—

Shit.

Shit—

He was going for my heart.

My vision blurred.

My side burned.

My legs trembled—

And then—

SHUUUUUUU—!

Tti-ring!

[Departed’s enslaved spirit is enraged.]

[Elite Knight-Grade Shadow "Erebus" has gained +10 Levels.]

[Erebus Lv. 20]

— Marshal Grade

A black streak erupted from my shadow.

A deep, resonant voice rippled through the collapsing hall:

"—He will not fall."

Veyrath’s claws stopped.

His eyes widened.

"What...?!"

The shadow rose behind me like a towering phantom — tall, armoured, draped in darkness.

Erebus.

Shadow of Alexios.

Veyrath’s lips parted in disbelief.

"...Impossible."

Erebus’s hand — wreathed in inky darkness — wrapped around Veyrath’s attacking arm.

"Do not," Erebus growled, voice cold as a grave, "touch my King."

The temperature plummeted.

Veyrath’s aura flared in shock.

"You— you carry Alexios’s aura—! No, not aura... essence—!"

His wings flared open in rage.

"You STOLE his shadow?! You DARE defile a noble Elder!?"

Erebus tightened his grip.

"Defile?"His eyes glowed.

"I call it obedience."

CRACK—!!!

Erebus snapped Veyrath’s wrist backward like snapping a twig.

Veyrath hissed in pain — the first genuine pain he’d shown tonight.

"You—!" he snarled, stepping back, wings curling defensively.

But Erebus didn’t chase.

He simply stood behind me... a wall of darkness and absolute killing intent.

A guardian.

A knight.

My shadow.

I wiped the blood from my lips, breathing sharply.

"Veyrath," I said.

He looked at me — fury distorting his elegant features.

"You wanted Alexios?"

I lifted Muramasa.

A black silhouette loomed at my back.

"Well," I smiled, "his shadow is right here."

Veyrath trembled.

With rage.

With disbelief.

With pure, unfiltered hatred.

Then—

Slowly—

A smile spread across his face.

A broken one.

A manic one.

"Dominic..."

His wings spread to their full, terrifying width.

"You... you are no warrior."

He leaned forward, voice shaking with excitement.

"You are a BLASPHEMY."

And he launched.

***

Stone me, I can take it!

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