My Three Beautiful Vampire Wives can hear my Inner Thoughts-Chapter 96: Overgod’s new plan

Cain stood motionless on the treetop, the night wind brushing against his coat while the red moon hung high above like a silent witness.

The pressure inside his body had not faded.

It was not crushing him, yet it lingered like a weight tied to his core, something watching him from within his own blood.

He narrowed his eyes slightly.

"No... I’m not sure," he muttered under his breath.

His voice was calm, but his thoughts were not.

He slowly closed his eyes.

"Blood Sense."

The words were soft, but the effect was fast.

From the center of his chest, a wave of red mana spread outward in every direction. It was not visible to ordinary eyes. It moved like heat spreading through iron, like an unseen pulse. To Cain, it appeared like a vast infrared signal, stretching across the land, piercing through mountains, slipping between buildings, crossing oceans and tearing through the thin barriers between planes.

Everything that contained blood left a mark in that vision.

Humans flickered like dim red sparks. Vampires glowed brighter. Magical beasts shimmered in strange colors.

Cain’s awareness traveled further.

Then he felt it.

A tear.

A distortion near the location of the human plane portal.

His brows drew together.

He had already sent the original portal away, redirecting it toward the Chimera Ant Empire to stir chaos and create pressure in another direction. He remembered doing that clearly.

But what he sensed now was different.

The residue of that portal had been violently struck.

Not once.

Twice.

Creating a secondary portal, different from the one he relocated.

His awareness zoomed in on the wound in space.

The edges were jagged, not cleanly cut. The energy signature still lingered, faint but distinct.

He studied it carefully.

The tear was not caused by an external weapon. It carried traces of blood mana.

Dense, overwhelming and strangely familiar.

His own.

Cain’s lips parted slightly.

"That attack..." he whispered.

He reconstructed the scene in his mind.

The pattern of destruction. The way the surrounding space had buckled inward before exploding outward. The way the blood mana had compressed planes together for a fraction of a second before smashing them apart.

He inhaled slowly.

"Blood Crash."

The name tasted heavy on his tongue.

He stared at the invisible scar in the sky.

Why would I use that?

Blood Crash was not a small technique. It was not something one used casually. It forcibly collided layers of reality, temporarily linking separate planes and crushing the boundaries between them. The aftermath was unpredictable and violent.

He examined the residue again.

The density of power. The angle of impact. The rhythm of mana flow before detonation.

He began commenting to himself quietly, almost like a scholar reviewing a failed experiment.

"The compression ratio was extreme," he murmured. "Higher than necessary for simple portal destruction."

He traced the remnant wave patterns.

"It did not merely seal the passage. It destabilized the plane wall."

His eyes darkened.

"The collision was deliberate. Not reckless."

The blood mana had spiraled inward first, gathering, building pressure, then expanded outward in a calculated burst. The intention was not to erase a portal. The intention was to disrupt connections.

He clenched his jaw.

"If I used Blood Crash... it was not for the portal."

He thought of Cornelia.

Ivira.

Their younger sister.

If he had used such a dangerous technique near his own territory, then something must have forced his hand.

He began imagining possibilities.

Perhaps they had figured him out completely.

Perhaps they had discovered his Overgod nature.

Perhaps they had uncovered the hidden layers of the blood pact.

If that happened...

He could have used Blood Crash to overwhelm them. To create chaos so massive to scare and make them hate him. To make every plane a battlefield so they could not focus solely on him.

He paced slowly on the rooftop.

"Or maybe I wanted to cut off external interference," he muttered. "If they aligned with another race... I could have severed that path."

He imagined forcing every connected plane into conflict. Vampires against elves. Goblins against dwarves. Centaurs against demons.

He could have used Blood Crash to create endless food.

But then he stopped walking.

He shook his head.

"No," he said firmly.

There was no way mortals like them could force him to use that level of technique.

They were powerful in this realm, yes. But they were still low level vampires compared to his true self.

He exhaled slowly.

"My goal was simple," he reminded himself. "Make them hate me. Push them into divorcing me. Take all the benefits of the blood pact."

It was straightforward.

He did not need Blood Crash for that.

He paused.

"They are just mortals," he said quietly.

Yet the feeling in his chest did not agree.

The only reason he felt this uncertainty... the only reason his memories had gaps... the only reason he had been injured...

Was it because of someone else?

An enemy.

Someone capable of hurting him.

Someone capable of leaving him confused.

Cain slowly lifted his gaze toward the sky. The clouds drifted lazily under the red moon, innocent and silent.

"Could it be..." he murmured.

His voice grew colder.

"That old man."

The God Above All who controlled laws of curses.

The one he ambushed.

"The one who governs the structure of this universe," Cain whispered.

He tilted his head slightly, and his neck gave a faint crack.

"Did he find me?"

For a moment, the idea hung in the air.

Then Cain suddenly laughed.

The sound was low at first, then grew louder, echoing across the empty streets below. "Impossible," he said between breaths.

He could clearly recall the death curses he had cast before descending to this realm. They were not ordinary spells. They were fragments of curses gathered from remnants of Gods Above All who had disappeared across eras. Each curse carried ancient resentment and decay.

Even Cain, at full power, would struggle to dispel them without following strict rules.

And that old man had taken them head on.

"He should be dying slowly right now," Cain muttered with a grin.

As if responding to his mood, the sky above seemed to tint slightly red, the moon appearing darker.

He imagined the old god writhing under the weight of layered curses, forced to obey conditions, unable to act freely.

"No," Cain said confidently. "If he had found me, he would not have acted so indirectly."

He looked back toward the tear in space.

"If I used Blood Crash, it was likely to confuse him."

His eyes sharpened.

By linking countless planes across the lower realm universe, including lower, middle, and high realms, he would create chaos on a scale that made tracking a single individual nearly impossible.

The God of Curses relied on structure. On order. On predictable flows of law.

But if thousands of planes were suddenly connected and at war, if portals opened everywhere, if races clashed endlessly...

The old god would hesitate.

If he used avatars to interfere or spy in too many places, he would spread himself thin. His authority would weaken.

Cain nodded slowly.

"Yes," he murmured. "That must be it."

And there was another benefit.

The chaos would accelerate growth.

War bred power.

The faster this realm grew unstable, the faster he could accumulate strength under the cover of disorder.

"This is the only explanation that makes sense," he concluded.

He turned around slowly and looked toward the distant silhouette of the Moonshade estate.

His expression became complicated.

"What should I do with them?"

Under normal circumstances, he would not hesitate. He was confident in his ability to handle any problem that arose.

But now the planes were connected.

If Blood Crash had truly triggered widespread instability, then a Baron class territory like the Moonshade family’s domain was nothing.

They could disappear overnight.

An elven strike force. A goblin war machine. A centaur divine warrior. Even a random tear from another plane could wipe them out.

He narrowed his eyes.

"If they die..." he murmured.

The blood pact would react.

The three sisters were tied to him by their clan. Their emotions. Their loyalty.

He could not allow the entire family to be erased before he achieved his goal.

Ironically, if the Cain of yesterday could hear him now, he would probably spit blood in frustration.

That version of him had wanted to terrify Cornelia. To force hatred. To make her initiate divorce through emotional collapse, he used the Blood Crash.

Now, without remembering anything that fully, he found himself calculating how to protect them.

He ran a hand through his hair.

"Ah, fuck it," he said suddenly.

A wild grin appeared on his face.

"I’ll find an isolated plane. One that favors a single race heavily. I’ll wipe them out completely."

His eyes gleamed.

"Commit genocide to the dominant race. Leave the plane empty. Then relocate the Moonshade family there."

He began pacing again, energy rising.

"No, not just them. Other vampire families too. Pack them all into that plane. Make it their sanctuary."

He chuckled darkly.

"With external enemies everywhere, pressure will build. The sisters will feel responsible. They will struggle to manage alliances. They will resent me for dragging them into this chaos."

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"All in one go," he whispered, amused.

He imagined the outcome.

A sealed plane, soaked in blood, ruled by vampires under constant threat from outside portals.

Fear would grow.

Stress would mount.

Emotions would boil.

Hatred would bloom.

Perfect.

He turned to leave, ready to begin scouting for a suitable plane.

He took one step.

Then stopped.

His body refused to move forward.

He frowned.

He tried again.

Nothing.

His foot would not lift.

The air around him felt thick, like invisible chains wrapping around his limbs.

His heart skipped.

"What...?"

He forced more strength into his legs.

Still nothing.

"I, an Overgod, was stuck?!"