My Wives Are Seven Beautiful Demonesses-Chapter 163 - No. Explanations Are in Order? (2)

Chapter 163: Chapter No.163 Explanations Are in Order? (2)

[Location: Morningstar Manor, New York]

"Fell into a sealed dimension on your way to the toilet?" Even Selene was surprised.

"You can’t just expect us to believe that, do you?"

Selene leaned forward so far that she was practically horizontal, her elbows on her knees, her eyes shining. "I mean, I’ve accidentally summoned a bone dragon while trying to microwave ramen, so I’m open-minded, but—"

"It wasn’t an accident," I said weakly. "It was... aggressively inconvenient destiny."

Zeraphira’s gaze sharpened. "Darling. Start. Slowly."

I exhaled.

"Alright. Bathroom trip. Normal. Peaceful. Full of optimism. I leave the table for—what did you say? Five minutes?" I looked at Selene.

"Four and a half," she said helpfully. "I was timing because the tofu was taking forever."

"Right. Four and a half minutes. Somewhere between the sink and the restroom, space-time decided I’d lived too peacefully."

Ezravia tilted her head. "You triggered a spatial anomaly?"

"No. The spatial anomaly triggered me."

Valeria snorted. "Rude."

I nodded. "Exactly. Anyway—there was a sigil. Old. Pre-modern vampiric. I didn’t recognise it at first because, surprise, I don’t usually expect ancient royal blood seals in human restaurants."

Gabriel raised a hand slightly, like a student asking permission to breathe. "Um... excuse me. Restaurants... don’t usually have those?"

"Correct," I said. "This one did."

"That sounds... unsafe," she murmured.

"It was extremely unsafe."

Ravvy peeked out from behind Selene. "D–Did it bite you...?"

"Yes," I said immediately.

She squeaked and vanished again.

Zeraphira pinched the bridge of her nose. "Focus, Dominic."

"Right. Sigil activates. Floor disappears. Gravity gives up on life. I fall."

"How far?" Ezravia asked.

"Conceptually? Very."

"Physically?"

"I stopped counting after the screaming became echoey."

Selene clapped. "Classic sealed-dimension drop! Did you get the falling-through-stars visual or the endless darkness one?"

"Both. It was indecisive."

Valeria laughed. "Of course it was."

I took another sip of tea, while lying through my teeth, wavering story like some truths and several lies—can’t say ’Hey, I got a system which gifted me the key to this dungeon!’ right?

"When I land, I’m not in New York anymore. I’m in... front of a massive tower-like structure."

"Are you sure it wasn’t someone’s dick—"

"SELENE!"

Everyone shouted in sync at the stupid witch talking like that in front of a child, though that child was Eris.

The witch recoiled, hands up in surrender, bangs wobbling. "What? It was tall! And cylindrical! I was asking a structural question!"

"That is not a structure," Zeraphira said flatly. "That is your mouth getting you executed."

Selene huffed and slumped back. "Fine. No architecture jokes. I’ll be good." She paused. "Probably."

Eris giggled into Grayfia’s sleeve.

I cleared my throat. "As I was saying—tower. Very much a tower, wrapped in darkness so dense it devoured what little light that existed, its surface carved in archaic patterns that resembled veins more than architecture. The sky above was not a sky at all, but a dome of bruised crimson haze, threaded with black clouds that drifted in unnatural spirals. There was no sun, no moon—only the glow of a distant, invisible source casting long, distorted shadows across the bleak landscape."

"...Quite a descriptive—" 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝘦𝘸𝑒𝒷𝓃ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝒸ℴ𝘮

"—trauma?" Valeria finished helpfully.

"Yes," I said. "Exactly that."

I shifted under the blanket, the mug warm between my palms, grounding myself before continuing.

"So. Tower. Ancient. Hostile vibes. The kind of place that looks at you and goes, Ah, yes, this idiot will die here."

Selene nodded enthusiastically. "Relatable."

"—And before me," I continued, rubbing my temples, "was a gate."

Selene’s eyes practically lit up as she’d just spotted a limited-edition figurine. "A gate. Like—big? Glowy? Boss-room coded?"

"Nope," I said. "It was the entrance to the ground floor out of one hundred floors of that tower."

The room went very, very quiet.

Not stunned silence.

Calculating silence.

Ezravia’s pupils dilated a fraction. "One hundred floors implies a graded trial structure. Likely punitive. Possibly selective."

"...Hundred floors?!" Selene repeated, voice cracking with delight and horror in equal measure.

"Yes," I said. "One. Hundred."

Valeria whistled. "That’s not a sealed dimension. That’s a lifestyle commitment."

Ezravia leaned back, fingers steepled. "Was there an inscription? A challenge declaration? Any indication of survival probability?"

"There was a plaque," I said. "It said—" I paused, squinting as if rereading it in my mind. "’Abandon expectations, footwear, and hope.’"

Selene slapped the table. "I knew it! That’s classic old-world sadist design!"

Gabriel clasped her hands together. "That sounds... unkind."

"It was very unkind," I assured her.

Zeraphira’s gaze hadn’t left me. "You entered."

"Not so soon," I replied. "There was a gatekeeper."

"...Alexios Payne," Carmilla finished calmly, porcelain cup poised near her lips.

Every head snapped toward her.

"...Who?" Selene asked.

Valeria blinked. "That name sounds like it bench-presses sins."

"—Vampire King’s right-hand man," Carmilla continued smoothly, as if she were commenting on the weather, "the One Who Guards the First Threshold, Executioner of the Unworthy, and a man who took great personal pride in killing anyone who wasn’t supposed to be there."

Selene’s mouth dropped open."Oh my god. That’s totally a mid-boss."

Gabriel tilted her head, genuinely confused. "Is... is being a ’mid-boss’ a profession?"

Valeria snorted. "It is if you’re hot and traumatising."

Ravvy peeked out again. "D–Did he... eat people...?"

"Yes," Carmilla and I said at the same time, mine was unsure.

Ravvy vanished again with a soft eep.

Zeraphira’s eyes narrowed to slits. "You encountered the Vampire King’s enforcer... alone?"

"Alone is a strong word," I said carefully. "I had moral support."

Ezravia arched a brow. "From?"

"...My will to not die."

Grayfia’s fingers tightened just slightly on my shoulder.

Carmilla continued, unbothered. "Alexios Payne was forged for that place. His existence was bound to the first floor. A watchdog. A butcher. He was not meant to be defeated."

Selene raised a finger. "Okay, but was he hot?"

"Selene," Zeraphira warned.

"What? I’m collecting data!"

"Yes," Carmilla said flatly. "Infuriatingly so."

Selene slapped the table again. "CALLED IT."

I groaned. "Please don’t encourage her."

Zeraphira ignored all of us. "What happened?"

No question mark. Just expectation.

I stared into my mug. "...He tried to kill me."

Valeria tilted her head. "Tried?"

"I’m sitting here, aren’t I?"

Ezravia leaned forward. "Explain. In detail."

I sighed. "Alexios wasn’t... like modern vampires. No hunger theatrics. No seductive menace. He was disciplined. Efficient. Dressed like a butler with his silver-white, slicked neatly back hair, gloves pristine, posture immaculate," I continued. "He bowed before trying to remove my head. Very polite. Very murdery."

Selene clasped her hands. "Murder butler!"

"I am begging you to stop naming things," Zeraphira said.

"I will not," Selene replied cheerfully.

Ezravia’s gaze sharpened. "Describe his combat methodology."

"Direct," I said. "No wasted movement. Every strike assumed I was already dead and just hadn’t realised it yet."

"That’s rude," Valeria muttered.

"It was extremely rude."

Carmilla nodded faintly. "Alexios did not toy with prey. He corrected it."

Gabriel blinked. "C–Corrected...?"

"Deleted," Valeria translated.

Ravvy whimpered softly from behind Selene’s shoulder.

Zeraphira folded her arms tighter. "And you survived how, exactly?"

"...Well," I said slowly, choosing my words with the care of a man tiptoeing across a minefield made of goddesses and fiancées, "he underestimated me."

Zeraphira’s eye twitched.

"That sentence," she said softly, "is doing a lot of work. Elaborate."

I swallowed. "He assumed I was... disposable."

Valeria tilted her head. "Rude."

"Extremely," I agreed. "He didn’t even draw his main weapon at first. Just... walked toward me. Calm. Polite. Like he was about to correct a typo."

Ezravia’s fingers tapped against her knee. "So you exploited arrogance."

"Yes," I said quickly. "That. Exactly that."

Grayfia’s gaze lingered on my face, unreadable. She didn’t interrupt. She never did when I was lying badly—but selectively.

Carmilla smiled faintly. "Alexios always believed inevitability was on his side."

"Well," I muttered, "inevitability tripped."

Selene leaned forward again. "So what did you do? Kick him? Throw tofu? Dramatic speech?"

"I beheaded him."

Silence didn’t just fall.

It hit.

Like someone had muted reality.

Even Carmilla didn’t know how I defeated Alexios, or Alucard for that matter.

"I—" Selene began, then stopped. Restarted. "You... what?"

"I beheaded him," I repeated, quieter this time. "Cleanly."

Valeria blinked once. Twice. "...With what?"

"My dignity," I joked. "It was already on life support anyway."

"...Of course, with my sword," I finished lamely.

No one spoke.

Not because they were stunned.

But because the collective disbelief was trying to decide which emotion to file under first—panic, denial, or ’this makes no sense, and I don’t like it.’

Valeria was the first to recover.

She leaned forward, elbows on knees, chin resting in her palms, pink hair swaying. "Okay. I’m going to say what everyone’s thinking."

Ezravia didn’t look away from me. "If you phrase it incorrectly, you’ll be punished."

Valeria grinned. "Worth it."

She pointed at me. "You’re weak."

Ravvy nodded timidly. "V–Very... weak..."

Gabriel gasped. "R–Ravvy!"

"I mean—!" Ravvy panicked. "N–Not emotionally! Or morally! Just—like—statistically!"

Ezravia sighed. "She is not incorrect."

That hurt more than Alexios’ sword ever did.

"...I am not what I was like the kid was before I was sealed—" Right after which I let a shiver of Conqueror’s Will out.

BOOOOM!!!

The room didn’t explode.

It buckled.

Not outward—no shattered walls, no craters—but inward, like reality itself had suddenly remembered it owed me respect.

The tea in my mug rippled.

The chandelier above let out a protesting creak.

Every sigil embedded into Morningstar Manor’s wards flared once—then dimmed, like a collective decision had been made not to escalate.

And the pressure—

It wasn’t violent.

It wasn’t loud.

It was absolute.

Like the universe briefly acknowledged a king... then politely pretended it hadn’t.

"...Oops."

Eris clapped. "Papa did the scary thing!"

"Papa is cool, right?"

***

Stone me, I can take it!

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