My Wives Are A Divine Hive Mind-Chapter 103: A Murder In Black And White

Blanchette settled beside Kivas in the monochrome lounge, light from the towering window casting pale patterns across polished floor tiles.

Beyond the glass the gothic spires of Monochara stretched upward, silhouettes carved by lantern glow and traceried runes.

There, Blanchette asked, voice gentle yet sharp in the hushed atmosphere, still wearing her usual mask of a smile. "How’s the view?"

Kivas did not turn immediately. Her gaze lingered on the shifting panorama—fortress walls bracketed by black-forged towers, ribboning streets of cloud-forged conduits between them.

After seconds, she finally spoke, voice calm yet weighted by something, "This bastion thrives in its own form," she said. "Blackened stones and people living their own journey. Yet I sense something is missing. It unironically waits—like a garden tending buds before blooming its fruits."

Blanchette wore her usual closed-eyed smile as she leaned back into the lounge chair. "Missing what exactly?"

"It is strangely related to the director." Kivas gave a slow blink. "When Cayame finds what she truly wants—or accomplishes something, then maybe a path will open in which prosperity and warmth befell upon this place."

Blanchette cocked her head, her smile widening. "That’s the vaguest statement I’ve heard from you in weeks. That’s not usually how you speak. Did Samael give you a weird potion?"

Kivas chuckled. "I can see that happening." Kivas then frowned, slender brows knitting. "In a way, I can feel a domino has budged," she said softly. "And everything else is aligning for something ominous."

Blanchette also frowned in turn. "Is that the divinity in you reacting? Or being a Fateling in itself has something to do when the world’s temperature changes?"

Kivas chuckled, shadow-light of the antique bulb on the ceiling glinting its shine on her halo. "Maybe both? Lately I hear faint whispers—I think it’s my own voice, but distant. Like a castaway calling toward a familiar someone near home on a horizon it cannot reach."

At that moment, a Limbo Tier Divine Construct materialized between the two women, framed in pale glyphic motes.

It hovered rigid, silent.

Kivas raised her hand as if to urge the construct to talk, "Report."

The Construct’s voice resonated in stillness. "The plan proposed by Cayame during the briefing is no longer applicable."

"The void-lance array can no longer be used," Samael spoke with a casual intensity in her eyes. But at the same, it was not something to joke around as it relates to the success and accessibility for their mission to repel the incoming Nihil. "It has become inaccessible as of now, in a way."

They stood near the innermost concourse of the Karasu Association’s main guild complex, a fortress of whispering steel and curated panic.

The vaulted ceiling above shimmered with suspended projection windows, each showing active schematics of Monochara’s infrastructure, flickering status of information, or spreading reports of localized instability.

Oizys stood beside Samael, her eyes scanning the panic-mired floor.

Karasu functionaries in patterned coats and breathing visors rushed across polished walkways, their movements sharp with unease.

Faint sigil-stamped dossiers hovered midair, rotating slowly, as staff scribes pulled updates and protocols into scroll clusters.

At the far end of the chamber, a triad of liaison officials debated near a false-wall pane, their tones quiet but heated.

"The void-lance array," Oizys echoed. Her fingers traced a long curve over a suspended display orb, distorting the red vapor signature of the Nihil storm on its approach. "You said it was one of the keys to the entire plan, or at least Cayame’s version of the plan. And now it’s just... unavailable?"

Samael didn’t respond at first. Her fingers tightened at her side, and then with a single motion, she activated a barrier spell.

A circular veil swept around them, perfectly translucent and imperceptible, yet utterly soundproof.

The rush and crackle of the outer chamber’s activity vanished into a distant hush, and vice versa.

Only now did Samael meet Oizys’ eyes. "Vervendi Monarcha is dead."

Oizys blinked. "I don’t recognize the name. Who is that supposed to be?"

Samael didn’t flinch. "The former sovereign of Monochara. Direct bloodline to the founders. Until Cayame, the Director under the Karasu Association, had become the new official ruler of the bastion, Vervendi held the keys to both political and ritual command. Her presence within the bastion was largely symbolic these days."

"Symbolic, huh, I guess it makes sense in a way, like how monarchy tend to remain for a very long time when the era changes to a much more modern one," Oizys found it intriguing. "So you’re assuming that this Vervedi person was the owner, or someone, the only someone who had access to this void-lance array?"

"She did," Samael said. "And she was the only one who could too. The weapon isn’t Karasu tech—it’s older. A relic integrated into Monochara’s foundation. Something the guild maintains but does not own.

"Its activation requires a soul-bonded individual of the Monarcha’s mark. Unfortunately, Vervendi was the last."

Oizys narrowed her eyes. "So how exactly did she die?"

"Assassinated, in public space." Samael said as if even she didn’t believe that the words coming out of her mouth was an event that heppened. "No witnesses saw the killer arrive, only the aftermath. Her body was bisected before her servants could blink. No spiritual signatures nor traces either. Just a single, impossibly clean strike."

There was a silence between them, but Oizys’ gaze sharpened further. "That doesn’t make sense. You’re talking about a royalty-class individual. Someone that important doesn’t just walk around without countermeasures. And even if she didn’t like guards—"

"She didn’t," Samael cut in. "That wasn’t just preference. It was her condition. Her personal strength was renowned in Monochara. Not just politically, but in direct combat.

"She considered bodyguards a liability, or at least according to what I’ve researched—she once tore down a major figure of a Nightsilk Order barehanded because she felt too uncomfortable around them. Prideful to a fault, sure, but she did back up her choices.

"Of course, until the latest occasion."

"Then the person who killed her..." Oizys trailed off, face tightening. "Would have to be on her level."

Samael nodded slowly. "Or beyond it. That’s what concerns me."

Outside the barrier, a Karasu administrator accidentally dropped a hovering tray of hollowed glyph-plates.

The impact scattered light-panes into a drifting spiral before they snapped back into form. It was probably one of those exotic tech that was connected to their so-called High Nest, a group of Karasu’s higher ups that process and confirm much of the collected information.

Nobody even turned to look at such an entertaining sight. Everyone had other things to worry about now.

Oizys took in a breath, folding her arms. "You think it’s deliberate sabotage? Timed with the Nihil’s approach."

"Not just deliberate," Samael said. "Coordinated, even. Whoever orchestrated this didn’t just want Vervendi gone. They wanted the Monochara bastion disarmed. They knew what she alone could activate, and they knew when to strike...

"Without the array," Samael glanced sideways to the busy crowds, "Cayame’s entire opening salvo is gone. Not that it mattered since we are meant to be the backups, but it still quite the development."

"Indeed. And even if it was a coincidence, it fits the puzzle pieces a little bit too much for a random chance to miraculously align to mess with the Karasu." Oizys snickered.

Beyond their translucent barrier, two security officers entered the concourse and whispered something to a Karasu overseer.

The overseer’s face paled, and he rushed toward a rune-engraved conduit screen.

Samael turned back to her. "It’s not just about firepower. This was psychological. The Monarch royalty was symbolic. Vervendi’s death—at this hour, under these circumstances—will fracture morale."

"And you’re sure she’s the last?"

"She was," Samael said. "I triple-checked before this. No sudden Blanchette moment. No exiled siblings. The void-lance dies with her."

Oizys didn’t respond right away. She just stared at the central spire projection flickering overhead.

The Nihil storm still burned red across it, edging closer to Monochara’s borders.

Behind the tempest, reality bent ever so slightly.

"The killer," Oizys murmured, "They are targeting this bastion’s very spine."

Samael nodded once. "Someone wants the Nihil to breach Monochara."

Meanwhile, back in the lounge.

"Well, guess the crazy whispers that are suddenly telling me things are not that crazy after all," Kivas chuckled in amusement. "We might need to work more as expected."

"You sure sound happy when someone important died at this very day," Blanchette teased with her usual visage.

"I have no reason to care," Kivas said, right after ensuring that she had performed a miracle which prevented her words from being leaked beyond a two-ways conversation with her little sister. "As much as I wanted to lend my hand, there is nothing to be gained. I can’t revive an individual yet, nor could I use a clairvoyance to look into the past and find out who’s the murderer."

"You’re quite lame for a deity."

"I’m the deity of harvest, not the deity of an all-knowing information gatherer."

"Try to become one."

"Ah yes, I should become something I’m not."

"Yep, that’s how civilization thrives."

"We’re not talking about civilization."