My Three Beautiful Vampire Wives can hear my Inner Thoughts-Chapter 181: Blood Pact Illusion

Cain did not move.

Not at first.

Not even a single step.

He stood there in that endless stretch of mist, his body still, his eyes fixed on the empty space where everything had just disappeared, where the battlefield had been swallowed whole as if it had never existed, where Ivira had stood, where she had spoken, where she had died in front of him again.

Time passed.

Or maybe it did not.

It was hard to tell in a place like this.

He can’t sense the time and can’t sense where he’s from.

It’s like an illusion, a dream world or something else.

In which case, he also didn’t seem to be that interested in knowing.

Soon enough, the silence returned, heavy and complete, pressing down on him from every direction, filling the space with something that felt thicker than air, something that made even breathing feel unnecessary.

Cain’s gaze did not waver.

"...That..."

His voice came out low, almost lost before it could fully form.

"...That was..."

He stopped.

Because he did not know how to finish that sentence.

His mind replayed it anyway.

The blood.

The battlefield.

Her voice.

Every word she had said.

Every expression on her face.

The way she looked at the sky.

The way she said Faith’s name.

The way she apologized.

The way she accepted her death.

"...Was that..."

He swallowed slightly.

"...Real?"

The question lingered in the empty space, unanswered.

Cain’s eyes lowered slightly, his thoughts turning inward, deeper, into places he had not wanted to look at for a long time.

"...Was that how she died?"

His chest felt tight.

Not from pain.

But from something heavier.

"...In my last life..."

The memory was not clear.

In his research when the Moonshade family fell, it says it’s not like this.

Not detailed enough.

Not vivid enough for him to remember.

Just fragments.

Broken pieces of things that had happened, things he had done, things he had seen.

But this—

This felt complete.

Too complete.

Too detailed.

Too real.

"...Or is this something else..."

He exhaled slowly, his breath steady, but there was something behind it now, something that had begun to rise inside him without his permission.

"...I..."

His hand lifted slightly, fingers curling as if trying to grasp something that was not there.

"...I did pursue her..."

The words came quietly.

Not as a defense.

Not as an excuse.

Just a statement.

"...I kept going after her..."

"...Even when she ignored me..."

"...Even when she rejected me..."

His eyes narrowed slightly.

"...Because I wanted to prove something."

The realization came slowly.

Painfully.

"...I wanted Faith to see it."

His jaw tightened.

"...I wanted to show her that I could get along with her sister."

The thought settled in.

Heavy.

Uncomfortable.

"...That I could win her over."

His fingers clenched tighter.

"...That I could make her fall for me."

Silence followed.

The mist drifted slowly around him, as if it was listening, as if it was waiting.

"...So..."

His voice lowered further.

"...Was she right?"

The question hung there.

Dangerous.

"...Was everything I did..."

He closed his eyes for a moment, though it did not change anything in this place.

"...Just for that?"

The guilt came.

Not overwhelming.

Not crushing.

But present.

Clear.

Sharp.

"...No..."

The word came out almost instinctively.

But it did not feel strong.

It did not feel certain.

"...That’s not..."

He stopped.

Because the image of her face when she spoke those words—

The way she looked at him—

Did not leave.

"...Too real..."

His eyes opened again.

"...That was too real."

His breathing deepened slightly.

"...That wasn’t just something random."

The thought began to form.

"...That wasn’t just a memory."

"...That was constructed."

His expression changed.

Slowly.

The hesitation in his gaze faded.

Replaced by something colder.

Sharper.

More controlled.

"...No."

He straightened slightly.

"...This isn’t real."

His voice grew firmer.

"...This is the blood pact."

The conclusion settled in.

"...It’s trying to manipulate me."

The mist around him seemed to react slightly, though it was hard to tell if it was real or just his perception.

"...It showed me something I might believe."

"...Something that would shake me."

"...Something that would make me doubt myself."

His eyes hardened.

"...And then it pushed me."

"...Forced emotions."

"...Forced guilt."

His lips pressed into a thin line.

"...Trying to make me accept it."

A faint, dangerous calm spread through him.

"...Trying to make me submit."

His fingers clenched tightly.

"...Trying to make me care."

The word came out with a slight edge.

"...For them."

His gaze lifted.

"...For all three of them."

The silence around him deepened again.

But this time—

It did not feel heavy.

It felt like something waiting.

Watching.

"...No."

Cain’s voice dropped.

"...I won’t accept that."

His body tensed.

Energy began to rise within him again, not slowly this time, but violently, like something that had been held back was finally allowed to move freely.

"...I am not some puppet."

The blood mana inside him surged.

"...I am not something you can control."

The mist around him trembled slightly as the pressure began to build.

"...I am not going to be led around by false images."

His veins lit up faintly, the energy pushing through his body with increasing force.

"...I am Cain."

His voice grew stronger.

"...An Overgod."

The words carried weight.

Not just spoken.

Declared.

"...And I will not be manipulated."

The power exploded outward.

A wave of blood mana surged from his body, tearing through the mist around him, ripping it apart as if it was nothing more than fragile cloth.

The ground beneath him cracked again.

The space distorted.

The silence shattered.

Cain’s aura flared violently, his presence pressing against everything in this world, forcing it to react whether it wanted to or not.

"...Show yourself!"

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

"...If you think you can control me..."

Another surge.

Stronger.

"...Then come out and face me!"

The mist tore apart further, pushed back by the sheer force of his presence.

Cain stepped forward.

Each step carried weight now, not physical, but something deeper, something that pressed against the very structure of this place.

"...I’m done playing along."

His eyes scanned the space around him, sharp, focused, no longer searching blindly but actively hunting.

"...No more illusions."

"...No more games."

The anger burned steadily within him now, not wild, but controlled, directed, focused into something that drove his actions forward without hesitation.

"...If this is your way of binding me..."

He raised his hand.

Blood mana gathered instantly, dense, heavy, dangerous.

"...Then I’ll tear it apart piece by piece."

He unleashed it.

A blast of power surged outward, tearing through the mist, ripping open the space in front of him, forcing anything hidden within it to reveal itself or be destroyed.

"...Come out!"

Another attack.

Another wave.

Each one stronger than the last, each one carrying the full weight of his refusal to be controlled, to be influenced, to be changed.

"...I won’t be fooled!"

His voice carried through the broken space as he continued his assault, his attacks relentless, his focus unwavering.

Then—

A sound.

Faint.

Barely there.

But enough.

Cain stopped instantly.

His head turned sharply toward it.

"...There."

His eyes narrowed.

"...I heard that."

The anger in him sharpened further, turning into something more precise, more dangerous.

"...You think you can hide?"

He moved immediately.

No hesitation.

No delay.

His body surged forward, his power gathering around him as he locked onto that faint presence.

"...Not anymore."

Another sound.

A whisper.

A trace.

Just enough to guide him.

"...Got you."

He raised his hand again.

"...Blood trace."

The spell activated instantly, threads of energy shooting outward, far more aggressive than before, cutting through the space as they searched for the source of the sound.

"...Run."

His voice dropped slightly.

"...Let’s see how far you get."

The threads extended.

Further.

Deeper.

Then—

He attacked.

A burst of power followed the direction of the trace, tearing through the mist with violent force.

"...There!"

Another attack.

Another surge.

Each one aimed with precision, guided by the faintest sign of movement, the smallest indication of presence.

"...Stop hiding!"

His attacks grew faster.

More aggressive.

More relentless.

Each one fueled by the anger that still burned within him, by the refusal to let himself be controlled, by the need to prove that he would not fall for whatever this place was trying to do to him.

"...I’ll destroy everything if I have to!"

The space trembled again.

Cracks spread further.

The mist twisted violently under the pressure.

Cain did not stop.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Until—

He saw something.

His body froze for a fraction of a second.

His eyes locked onto it.

"...What..."

The word came out low.

Barely audible.

But filled with something that cut through the anger instantly.

Something unexpected.

Something that made him stop.

And for the first time since he began his rampage—

He hesitated.