My Wives Are Seven Beautiful Demonesses-Chapter 165 - No. Explanations Are in Order? (End)

Chapter 165: Chapter No.165 Explanations Are in Order? (End)

[Location: Morningstar Manor, New York]

"Erebus Uncle!" Eris was delighted at seeing Erebus again.

"OMG! A SHADOW MINION!" Selene squealed with both hands covering her mouth, eyes glittering with—

[Name: King’s Call]

[Level: 4]

[Type: Active]

—Required Mana to activate: None

— Creates a shadow soldier by extracting Mana from the recently deceased lifeform.

— The odds of extraction failure will rise higher depending on the target’s original Stat values, as well as the length of time since its death.

— Share Senses: grants the ability to share senses with the Shadows, being able to use them as a means of remote monitoring.

— King’s Domain: King’s Domain allows the King to have absolute authority over a limited space where the strength of the King and his soldiers increases by 50%. (New)

— Number of shadows that can be extracted: 1024/6000.

(Note: All shadows are fiercely loyal to the King and maintain their allegiance to him even if they were adversaries in their past lives. This loyalty extends to the point that they can even override his orders to them in special circumstances. They are also capable of sensing his emotions, even when they are thousands of miles away from each other.)

Selene’s sentence didn’t finish.

Because Erebus finished the room instead.

The shadow straightened fully, coat-like darkness settling around his shoulders as if gravity itself obeyed him differently. The faint embers that served as his eyes swept the lounge in a slow, methodical arc—not aggressive, not curious.

Evaluative.

He knelt before me with his head bowed—one knee touching the marble floor, one fist pressed lightly to his chest.

Not in submission.

In Loyalty.

In acknowledgement.

"My king," Erebus said.

The word carried weight.

Not volume. Not force.

Weight.

The air didn’t tremble this time. It recognized.

Selene slowly lowered her hands from her mouth.

"...Oh," she whispered. "Oh, that’s not a minion. That’s a lieutenant."

Erebus lifted his head slightly.

"Marshal," he corrected calmly.

The single word landed harder than any title Selene had ever squealed about.

Selene stared at him.

Then at me.

Then back at him.

"...That’s cool," she said faintly. "That’s so much cooler."

Valeria leaned forward, elbows on knees, pink hair swaying as her grin widened. "Ohhh. I like him already. He kneels like he means it."

Ezravia didn’t smile. She was staring at Erebus with laser-focused intensity, eyes tracing the way his shadow didn’t quite align with the light sources in the room.

"His manifestation isn’t standard necromancy," she said slowly. "No anchor sigil. No external mana flow. The shadow is... self-sustaining."

Selene gasped. "He’s eco-friendly."

"I am," Erebus replied politely.

Selene made a strangled noise and hid behind Valeria. "HE ANSWERED."

Gabriel floated a little closer, hands clasped in front of her chest, eyes wide but not afraid—just curious in that dangerously innocent way of hers.

"Um... hello, Mister Erebus," she said gently. "It’s very nice to meet you."

Erebus turned toward her.

He inclined his head, just slightly.

"The pleasure is mine," he replied. "You shine... gently."

Gabriel blinked.

Her wings fluttered once in reflex.

"O–Oh. Thank you," she said, cheeks faintly pink. "You’re very polite."

Selene peeked out. "WHY is the terrifying shadow soldier BETTER MANNERED than half the people I know?"

"Habit," Erebus answered calmly.

"That tracks," Selene muttered.

Ravvy clutched Selene’s sleeve, peeking out with one violet eye. "D–Does he... eat...?"

Erebus paused.

Then answered honestly.

"Not anymore."

Ravvy squeaked and fully disappeared behind Selene again.

Zeraphira had not spoken.

She stood where she was, crimson eyes locked on Erebus—not with hostility, but with sharp, layered assessment. The kind of look that measured threat, loyalty, origin, and intent all at once.

Finally, she spoke.

"Dominic," she said evenly. "Explain."

I sighed.

This was going to be the theme of my life now, wasn’t it?

"Erebus," I said instead, "could you... Maybe stand normally? You’re making everyone nervous."

Erebus rose smoothly to his feet.

The shadows clinging to him shifted like fabric settling after a movement. He took one step back—subtle, deliberate—placing himself half a pace behind me.

Protective positioning.

Zeraphira noticed.

Of course she did.

"You summoned him," she said, eyes narrowing slightly. "Not with a spell. Not with a chant."

"No," I said. "He answered."

Selene popped back out. "Answered WHAT? A Craigslist ad for ’emotionally stable shadow marshal’?"

"I answered him," Erebus said, glancing at Selene. "He is my king."

I rubbed my face. "Okay. Focus. Please."

Eris, who had been quietly observing Erebus with unabashed delight, suddenly wriggled out of my arms and toddled over to him.

Before anyone could stop her.

She tugged gently on the edge of his shadow-coat.

"Erebus Uncle," she said seriously, looking up at him. "Did Papa do good?"

Erebus knelt instantly.

Not because he had to.

Because he wanted to.

"Yes," he said without hesitation. "Your Papa did very well."

Eris beamed.

"Good," she declared. "Then you can stay."

Selene whispered, "She just adopted him."

Valeria whispered back, "I respect the hierarchy."

Zeraphira’s gaze flicked briefly to Eris... then back to Erebus.

"Marshal," she said. "You call him ’my king.’ Why?"

Erebus turned to her.

And for the first time, his voice carried something else beneath its calm.

Reverence.

"Because," he said, "He is the one who broke my chains. I was but a glorified gatekeeper, my previous king," Erebus continued calmly, "was a man who ruled by inevitability. By stagnation. By certainty that nothing would ever change."

The room leaned in.

Even Selene stopped breathing properly.

"He did not ask," Erebus said. "He assumed. He did not inspire loyalty—he enforced obedience. We existed to maintain a system that devoured itself slowly."

Carmilla’s smile thinned, just a fraction.

"And Dominic?" Zeraphira asked.

Erebus turned slightly, shadows shifting like respectful cloth.

"He questioned inevitability," he said. "He bled. He adapted. He refused to kneel—even when the tower demanded it."

I winced. "To be fair, kneeling would’ve gotten me stabbed."

"That too," Erebus agreed politely.

Selene slapped her thigh. "I KNEW IT. Protagonist energy."

Ezravia exhaled slowly. "You’re saying the tower recognised him."

"No," Erebus corrected. "The tower resisted him."

That... did not help.

Zeraphira’s eyes sharpened. "Explain the distinction."

Erebus inclined his head. "Recognition implies approval. Resistance implies threat."

Silence.

Gabriel clasped her hands tighter. "Th–That sounds... bad."

"Yes," Erebus said gently. "It was."

I cleared my throat. "Can we maybe... not phrase it like that?"

Erebus looked at me. "You asked for honesty, my king."

"I asked for filtered honesty."

Selene pointed at me. "You did NOT specify that."

Traitor.

Zeraphira paced once—slow, controlled. "Marshal Erebus. You claim allegiance to Dominic. Yet you are... what, exactly?"

"A remnant," Erebus replied. "A shadow given continuity. A soldier extracted from death and bound by will rather than command."

Ezravia’s pupils contracted. "Bound... how?"

Erebus paused.

Just long enough.

"By resonance," he said. "My existence stabilises because his will does not fracture."

Grayfia’s fingers tightened imperceptibly on my shoulder.

That was... uncomfortably close to the truth.

Selene squinted. "So you’re like... a vibe-based undead?"

"I do not appreciate the term ’undead,’" Erebus replied calmly. "But yes."

Selene nodded solemnly. "Valid."

Valeria laughed softly. "I like him. He’s honest."

Zeraphira stopped pacing. "Dominic. You said you were not alone, and I assume he is not the only one, so how many?"

I looked at the system prompt—[ Number of shadows that can be extracted: 1024/6000.]

I coughed into my fist.

"Ahem."

Everyone looked at me.

That was... unfortunate.

"How many?" Zeraphira repeated, calm as a guillotine slowly lowering.

Erebus remained half a step behind me, silent now, presence like a shadow stitched into the room itself.

I stared at the coffee table.

Then the wall.

Then absolutely anywhere except the women who would definitely overreact.

"...Define how many," I tried.

Valeria grinned. "Oh, that’s never a good start."

Ezravia folded her arms. "Quantity of shadow entities bound to you, Dominic. An estimate will suffice."

Ravvy peeked out from behind Selene again. "P–Please don’t say ’a lot’..."

Selene leaned in, vibrating. "Say a lot. Please say a lot."

Gabriel clasped her hands politely. "Um... whatever the number is, I’m sure it’s... reasonable?"

Grayfia said nothing.

Which was worse?

I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. "Okay. So. Hypothetically."

Zeraphira’s eye twitched. "Darling."

"Hypothetically," I stressed, "if someone were to... acquire companions... through extremely traumatic, life-or-death circumstances... inside a very hostile environment..."

Ezravia deadpanned. "You’re stalling."

"Yes."

"How many, Dominic?"

I glanced at Erebus.

He met my eyes.

Did not help.

"...More than one," I said.

Selene slapped the couch. "CALLED IT."

Valeria laughed. "That narrows it down to literally everything."

Zeraphira inhaled slowly. "Give. Me. A. Number."

"...Low hundreds," I muttered.

Silence.

Not stunned silence.

Processing silence.

Ezravia’s brow furrowed. "Low... hundreds?"

Ravvy made a sound like a kettle dying.

Selene’s eyes sparkled so hard I was worried about lens flare. "OH MY GOD. IT’S A HORDE BUILD."

"It is not a build," I protested weakly. "It’s... circumstance."

Eris tugged on my sleeve. "Papa, do I have lots of uncles?"

"...Yes."

She nodded, satisfied. "Good."

Zeraphira stared at me for a long, long moment.

Then she laughed.

Once.

Softly.

That was somehow more terrifying than anger.

"Darling," she said, voice silky and dangerous, "you disappeared for less than five minutes."

"I know."

"And returned with—" she gestured vaguely at Erebus, "—a shadow marshal and hundreds of loyal entities."

"Yes."

"And you expect me to believe this occurred organically."

"...Yes?"

Selene leaned over and stage-whispered to Gabriel. "This is what happens when you don’t supervise your protagonists."

Gabriel nodded seriously. "I’ll remember that."

Zeraphira exhaled, pressing her fingers to her temple. "Ezravia."

"Yes?"

"Thoughts."

Ezravia considered, eyes distant. "If what Erebus claims is accurate, then Dominic’s will functions as a stabilising axis. The shadows are not sustained by external mana, but by resonance with his mental state."

Valeria blinked. "So if he gets sad—"

"They destabilise," Ezravia finished.

Ravvy gasped. "T–That’s bad!"

"Yes," Ezravia said calmly. "Very."

Selene immediately turned to me. "NO SAD THOUGHTS. YOU ARE BANNED FROM ANGST."

"I live in angst," I said.

"Well, stop it."

Grayfia finally spoke.

"Master," she said quietly.

I turned to her.

Her expression was composed, but I could see it—the strain beneath, the careful way she stood, the subtle tension in her posture.

"You should not shoulder this alone," she said.

I smiled faintly. "I know."

"You say that," she replied, "but your actions suggest otherwise."

...Ouch.

Zeraphira watched the exchange carefully, then shifted her gaze back to Erebus.

"Marshal," she said. "Are these... shadows... dangerous?"

Erebus answered without hesitation. "Only to those who intend harm."

Selene raised her hand. "Define harm."

"Threats to the King," Erebus replied. "Or to those he claims."

Valeria whistled. "Wow. Territorial."

Eris puffed up proudly. "Papa claims us!"

"Yes," Erebus said simply.

The room went quiet again—this time softer, heavier.

Gabriel floated a little closer to me. "Um... Dominic?"

"Yeah?"

"You’re... not going to disappear again, right?"

That hit harder than any interrogation.

I looked at her gentle, worried eyes.

"...I’ll try not to," I said honestly.

She smiled, relieved. "Okay."

Selene wiped her eyes dramatically. "Why is the angel the emotional assassin?"

Ezravia turned back to Erebus. "You mentioned others. Besides yourself."

Erebus inclined his head. "Yes."

Zeraphira straightened. "Where are they?"

"Dormant," Erebus replied. "Within his domain."

I stiffened slightly.

Selene’s head snapped toward me. "DOMAIN?"

Valeria’s grin sharpened. "Oh, I love that word."

Ezravia’s eyes lit with dangerous interest. "A bounded authority field?"

"Limited," Erebus said carefully. "Conditional."

Zeraphira’s gaze burned into me. "Dominic."

"...Yes?"

"You’re going to explain that."

I rubbed my face. "Eventually."

"When?"

"Later."

"How much later?"

"...After I survive today."

Selene nodded sagely. "Fair."

Zeraphira sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Fine. We’ll circle back."

She looked to Carmilla. "You knew."

"Well, of course, I’ve seen them. My favourite is Astra." Carmilla replied, but that name drop was unnecessary as every eye turned to me... yet again.

"A... female?"The question landed as a collective, perfectly synchronised accusation.

I felt it in my bones.

Selene was the first to recover. Of course she was.

She leaned forward so hard she nearly fell off the couch, eyes blazing with feral otaku energy."WAIT. WAIT WAIT WAIT. HOLD ON."

She pointed at me. "You have hundreds of shadow soldiers, a marshal, a domain, AND NOW YOU’RE TELLING ME THERE’S A GIRL ONE?"

Ezravia’s gaze sharpened instantly. "Define ’female.’"

Valeria grinned, pink hair swaying as she tilted her head. "Is she hot?"

Ravvy made a small, panicked sound. "D–Do shadows... compete... for food...?"

Gabriel floated a little closer, hands clasped. "Um... is she... nice?"

Zeraphira didn’t say anything.

She didn’t need to.

Her stare alone felt like judgment day had been rescheduled and personally addressed to me.

Grayfia’s fingers tightened on my shoulder.

Just a fraction.

I swallowed.

"...Yes," I said carefully. "Female. And—before anyone jumps to conclusions—no, this is not what you think."

Valeria gasped. "That’s what they all say."

Selene slapped the couch. "UNACCEPTABLE. CONTINUE."

Carmilla, traitor incarnate, sipped her tea with infuriating elegance."She’s rather lovely," she added casually. "Quiet. Observant. Devoted."

Every single head snapped back to me.

"...Hey! That’s the total opposite," I snapped, a little too quickly.

Carmilla’s lips curved. Just a touch. The sort of smile that said she was absolutely going to make this worse on purpose.

"Are you talking badly about me, my king~"

***

Stone me, I can take it!

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