My Wives Are A Divine Hive Mind-Chapter 181: World Travel

The night stretched long under the mountain’s unyielding vigil, stars wheeling overhead in silent procession while the valley below slumbered in frost-kissed hush.

Noirette and Blanchette had immersed themselves in Marqe’s teachings from the moment the portal’s arch had stabilized, its opalescent swirl a gateway taunting them with glimpses of uncharted voids.

They did not step through—not yet. That would be dumb, because the portal that Marqe created as of now was merely a dummy portal that led to nowhere.

Instead, they turned inward into themselves, essence coiling at their call like threads pulled from the night’s own fabric, practicing the weave of Chaos World Travel until fingers cramped and breaths came ragged.

Hours blurred into a rhythm of trial and error.

Marqe guided without impatience, his gnarled hands demonstrating the balance—focus not as a hammer’s strike, but a river’s patient carve.

By midnight’s nadir, when the winds howled fiercest through the cliffs, they had it.

The portal held steady under Noirette’s command, a stable vortex, edges sharp as etched glass.

Blanchette followed suit immediately after as if she was only waiting for Noirette to finish her submission.

Regardless, it was still quite the intensive training, especially since they were being chased by time.

There was no indication of when Fathomi would strike once again with its tomfoolery, and Noirette didn’t want to take many chances.

Blanchette wiped sweat from her brow, snow-white strands clinging damply to her temples, her eternal smile unbroken despite the strain.

She let the arch dissolve with a flick of her wrist.

"I wonder if we can still continue our marked projects for the Mage Court while in a different world," Blanchette mused, voice light as if pondering the flavor of the next meal.

Noirette dispersed her own portal, the effort leaving a faint tremor in her arms, but satisfaction warmed her chest like embers banked against cold.

She flexed her fingers, watching the motes fade into the night.

"The Mage Court has already tasted a sign of the digitalization of Fathomi," she replied casually, leaning against a courtyard stone warmed by the day’s lingering heat. "They may or may not interfere with it, with Dorose’s help. That means our goal is already done in that regard. It does not matter if the Mage Court kicks us out or penalizes us for not working on our projects."

Blanchette did not press further, content with the logic’s blunt finality.

Another round followed before the eastern sky paled to bruised violet.

Marqe observed from the homestead’s threshold, arms crossed over his tunic, milky eyes tracing their forms with the quiet pride of a craftsman appraising finished work.

When the final arch held without flicker—opalescent depths swirling stable, essence thrumming in harmonious pulse—he stepped forward, gravel crunching under his boots.

"You have mastered Chaos World Travel in such a short time," he said, voice rough but warm, carrying the weight of genuine commendation. "Your efforts and skill commend you. With this foundation, you should be able to perform a Pinpointed World Travel to return to Fathomi when needed."

"Thank you for your guidance, Marqe. We could not have done this without you." Noirette replied with a smile.

Blanchette echoed the sentiment, though there was a hint of sarcasm in her tone. "Your patience has been invaluable. We owe you much, indeed."

Marqe waved off the thanks with a gnarled hand, though the lines around his eyes crinkled in quiet pleasure.

He turned then, palms up once more, essence gathering under his call with the familiarity of long habit.

The air thickened, motes coalescing into threads that wove swift and sure—no trial this time, but execution born of decades.

The frame rose before them, edges hardening into a resolute arch, its interior a maelstrom of muted silvers and indigos—hints of alien architectures glimpsed in fractured overlays, spires piercing smog-choked skies, streets alive with mechanical hums.

"This world will fit your criteria," Marqe said, gesturing to the portal’s depths. "Not only that, there is a chance you may encounter someone I know who can aid your endeavor, should the need arise."

Noirette lingered a moment at the threshold, the arch’s pull a subtle itch against her skin—essence freer here, unburdened by Fathomi’s latent drag.

"We will return the favor one day," Noirette promised.

With that, they stepped through. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝒆𝒘𝙚𝓫𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

The transition hit Noirette like a wave crashing over jagged reefs—nausea roiling in her gut, every nerve alight with the weird friction of realities shearing past.

Her vision smeared, colors inverting in nauseous loops, the mountain’s crisp stone dissolving into a vertigo of motion.

She clenched her jaw against the urge to retch, essence flaring instinctively to steady her core, threads coiling tight around her form like an anchor line in storm-tossed seas.

Blanchette walked beside her unperturbed, her grin flashing brief in the swirl, as if the transit amused rather than assailed.

"Kuh..."

Clarity returned in a rush, the portal’s arch winking shut behind them with a soft implosion of air.

Noirette stumbled half a pace, boots scraping against unyielding concrete, the nausea ebbing to a sour aftertaste on her tongue.

She straightened, breath steadying, and took in their surroundings.

A rooftop sprawled before them, edged by low parapets of rusted metal and ventilation units humming with mechanical life.

The city unfurled below in a labyrinth of steel and glass—towers piercing the haze like fingers clawing at the underbelly of smog-veiled clouds, streets far below a river of lights where vehicles crawled in orderly streams, their horns a distant symphony of impatience.

Humans moved through it all, unremarkable in their ordinariness—suits pressed sharp against the evening chill, coats bundled against the urban draft, faces lit by the glow of handheld screens or towering billboards advertising elixirs and entertainments in languages that tugged at the familiarly remembered echoes from Noirette’s Earth-born origins.

No gimmicks marred them either—no draconic horns jutting skyward, no halos flickering with divine residue, no cloaks woven from shadow or spore.

Just flesh and fabric, ambition etched in hurried strides and weary slumps.

Noirette managed a wry smile, leaning against a vent unit whose warmth seeped through her coat. "I did not expect Marqe to throw us directly into a civilization."

Blanchette stepped to the parapet’s edge, her snow-white hair whipping in the rooftop gusts, crimson eyes drinking in the vista with unfeigned delight.

She inhaled deeply, as if savoring a rare vintage. "The air feels fresh despite the huge signs of industrialization and modernization."

Noirette arched a brow, surprise flickering through her lingering unease.

Curiosity stirred, Noirette extended her senses, essence probing the ambient flows.

The Malleable Essences gathered sluggishly at first—thinner here, maybe diluted by the world’s mechanical hum, lacking Fathomi’s dense metaphysical saturation.

But they responded, coiling tentative around her will, malleable as clay under patient hands.

Weaker, yes, but usable—a lifeline extended across the veil, promising adaptation in unfamiliar soil.

"Looks like we can go for another tour," Noirette grinned. "Since I’m quite familiar in a world like this, I’ll show you the wonder of modern civilization, Blanchette. That is, of course, unless you have already have a taste."

"Mmm~ just treat me as if it’s my first time here~" Blanchette cooed. "I would prefer it that way."

But the sky betrayed them. A massive rent tore open overhead, edges jagged as shattered glass, the rift’s maw belching forth a cascade of alien forms.

Extraterrestrial creatures spilled out in writhing profusion—hulking silhouettes with chitinous limbs glinting under the city’s glare, tendrils lashing like whips forged from living plasma, eyes multifaceted and glowing with predatory hunger.

They plummeted in controlled descent, skimming rooftops and shattering windows in explosive blooms, their cries a dissonant screech that drowned the urban din.

Noirette could only laugh, the sound sharp and incredulous, bubbling up from her chest as absurdity crashed over her like the invaders themselves.

"Oh well, our timing coming here could not be better," she commented, wry edge honing the words to a blade.

She braced for the human side’s rout, expecting screams and futile flight amid the onslaught.

But her gaze caught movement below, a cluster of figures emerging from alley shadows, clad in eccentric costumes that blended heraldry with hazard gear—capes billowing like defiant flags, masks, and accessories of all sorts of themes and style.

They leaped into the fray with unnatural grace, one hurling bolts of azure fire that seared chitin mid-air, another summoning barriers of crackling force to deflect plasma lashes, and many more.

Supernatural powers clashed against the tide, the air alive with bursts of light and thunderous impacts, the battle a chaotic ballet atop the city’s veins.

Blanchette joined her at the edge, crimson eyes wide with fascination, her grin stretching to something almost feral. "This is such an intriguing sight."

"Marqe didn’t lie at all," Noirette couldn’t help by grin big. "This world definitely fits my criteria."

Noirette gripped the parapet, concrete flaking under her fingers as a nearby tower shuddered from a direct hit—glass raining in glittering shards.

"We should go somewhere else farther from the site of the conflict," she continued, voice steady despite the adrenaline’s spike. "In case we do not want this building to fall with us."

Unexpectedly, slithering coils of plasma erupted from the concrete, veins of electric azure snaking upward like serpents roused from slumber.

One lashed out, wrapping Blanchette’s ankle in a sizzling grip.

Blanchette did not flinch. Her wide smile plastered firm, eyes half-lidded in uncaring repose.

Noirette twisted mid-stride, essence erupting from her core in a repelling shockwave—heated air compressing into a radial burst that hurled the coils back, concrete shattering in radial cracks as the plasma recoiled with a whip-crack hiss.

She lunged forward, threads extending to sever the binding coil around Blanchette’s leg, the energy parting like mist before a gale.

Freed, Blanchette stepped aside lightly, unruffled.

Noirette shot her a wry glance, "Why did you let yourself get captured?"

"My beloved sister is there to help, why should I be worried~?"

Then, a voice shouted from the rooftop’s far edge—commanding, edged with authority that cut through the chaos like a blade through fog.

"Halt and state your intention."