My Wives Are Seven Beautiful Demonesses-Chapter 164 - No. Explanations Are in Order? (3)

Chapter 164: Chapter No.164 Explanations Are in Order? (3)

[Location: Morningstar Manor, New York]

Eris clapped. "Papa did the scary thing!"

I picked her up on my knee before she could start vibrating herself into another accidental singularity.

I steadied her with one arm, the other still wrapped around the mug, very carefully not letting another shred of pressure leak out.

"Yes," I said, forcing a smile that did not reflect the collective cardiac arrest I’d just caused. "Papa is... cool."

Eris nodded seriously, as if logging that into a cosmic ledger. "Good. Papa should be cool. Papa is squishy, but cool."

"Hey," I protested weakly. "I am not squishy."

Grayfia’s hand rested lightly on my shoulder.

"You are," she said calmly. "Internally."

Traitor.

The pressure in the room slowly dissipated—not because it wanted to, but because it had been told, very firmly, to leave.

Morningstar Manor exhaled.

The wards settled. The chandelier stopped creaking. Reality resumed pretending it was in charge.

No one spoke.

Not immediately.

Then Selene let out a long, shaky breath and slapped both hands on her thighs.

"OKAY," she said loudly. "So. Not weak. Not normal. Definitely not toilet-safe."

"That is not a category," Ezravia said, though she sounded distracted.

"It is now," Selene replied. "I’m adding it to my mental wiki."

Zeraphira still hadn’t moved.

Her gaze was locked on me—not angry, not accusing.

Assessing.

That was worse.

"Darling," she said slowly, "This is your ’Spiritual Aura’ thing, right?"

"Yeah."

"It has become even stronger than before, how?"

"...It hasn’t," I said immediately.

That was a lie.

A bad one.

Zeraphira’s eyebrow rose by exactly half a millimetre.

Which, for her, was the equivalent of drawing a sword.

"Darling," she replied sweetly, "that response was faster than your brain."

Selene leaned over the back of the couch, eyes sparkling. "Ooooh. That’s the face she makes right before someone gets emotionally vivisected."

"I am not vivisecting anyone," Zeraphira said calmly.

Ezravia adjusted her posture, eyes narrowing. "She is dissecting. Vivisection implies blood."

"Thank you," Zeraphira said.

"You’re welcome."

I sighed, already exhausted. "Okay. Fine. Let me... rephrase."

I set the mug down carefully, as if sudden movements might offend the universe again.

"It hasn’t become stronger," I said. "...It’s just... the effect of my willpower and my mental state."

I let the words hang there, vague enough to be technically true, useless sufficient to be infuriating.

Zeraphira stared at me.

The room stared at me.

Even the furniture felt judgmental.

Ezravia was the first to speak. "That explanation is insufficient."

"Seconded," Valeria said cheerfully. "Also rude."

Ravvy raised her hand halfway, then lowered it again, then raised it fully like she was in class. "D–Does that mean... if darling gets... um... very determined... the house might... explode...?"

Eris’s eyes lit up. "Can we try?!"

"No," Grayfia and I said at the same time.

Eris pouted. "Later?"

"Much later," I said. "Preferably never."

Selene squinted at me. "So you’re saying your aura reacts to emotions?"

"Yes," I said quickly. "Strong emotions. Stress. Fear. Adrenaline. The usual."

"That’s still not normal," Valeria pointed out. "My emotions mostly just make me flirtier."

Ezravia nodded. "And mine sharpen perception. Yours seems to... intimidate physics."

"I do not intimidate physics," I muttered.

Physics, very quietly, disagreed.

Zeraphira finally uncrossed her arms and walked closer, heels clicking softly against the marble floor. Every step carried presence—not power, not threat, but authority. The kind that didn’t need to shout.

She stopped in front of me.

Close.

Too close.

"Dominic," she said, dropping the teasing tone entirely. "Look at me."

I did.

Her golden eyes searched my face with unsettling precision. Not my posture. Not my aura. Me.

"When you were sealed," she continued, "you were broken. Empty. Your soul was... quiet."

My fingers tightened around the blanket.

"And yet," she went on, "since your awakening, this... will of yours manifests more clearly each time. Stronger. More defined."

Selene leaned in. "Like a protagonist!"

Ezravia didn’t look amused. "Like someone reconstructing themselves."

I swallowed.

Zeraphira’s voice softened, just a little. "What changed?"

Careful.

Very careful.

I smiled tiredly. "Perspective."

That wasn’t a lie.

Not entirely.

"I almost died," I said. "Not physically. But... internally. When you’re sealed for over a thousand years with nothing but regret and silence, you either dissolve... or you learn to endure."

Grayfia’s hand pressed slightly firmer on my shoulder.

Zeraphira studied me for several seconds, then nodded once.

"Endurance," she said. "That I can accept."

Selene wiped an imaginary tear. "Wow. That was hot and sad."

"Please don’t phrase it like that," Gabriel said gently.

"Oh! Sorry," Selene replied instantly. "Emotionally hot. Like... inspiring. Not—"

"Selene," Ezravia warned.

"Stopping! I’m stopping!"

Valeria chuckled. "You’re really not."

Zeraphira straightened and stepped back, turning to help herself to a seat opposite me.

"Very well," she said. "We’ll table the aura discussion. For now."

For now.

That was not reassuring.

"But," she continued, eyes flicking briefly to Carmilla, "that does not explain the sealed dimension, the tower, the executioner, the child or the... blood wife."

Carmilla smiled into her tea.

"I told you starting with that was a mistake," I muttered.

Selene snapped her fingers. "YES! Blood wife arc! Please continue."

"Why are you like this?" I asked her.

"Otaku," she replied proudly. "It’s a lifestyle."

Zeraphira gestured with her chin. "Continue, darling."

I took a breath.

"...After Alexios," I continued slowly, "I was granted entry to the tower."

Selene sucked in a dramatic breath. "Granted. I love that word. Very ’you survived the tutorial, boss, please proceed to suffering.’"

"That is exactly what it was," I said. "The gate opened. Not violently. Not magically flashy. It simply... acknowledged me."

Ezravia’s eyes sharpened. "Acknowledged how?"

"Like a clerk stamping a document they don’t like but can’t deny," I replied. "There was resistance. Judgment. And then—permission."

Valeria grinned. "The tower went, ’Ugh. Fine. This one.’"

"Yes," I said flatly. "That."

Zeraphira tapped one elegant finger against the armrest of her chair. "And you entered."

"I entered," I confirmed. "And immediately regretted every life choice that led me there."

Selene leaned forward. "Describe the floor!"

"No," I said.

"Aww."

"Inside the tower was... a ruined city. Quite unexpected, it was identical to New York, but it was like everyone in New York died and a hundred years had passed by. Listless. Ash-grey cityscape, only the lonesome street lights flickered as if they were having a seizure—"

"And that’s just the ground floor?!" Selene was practically hovering in front of my face now.

I leaned back instinctively, clutching the blanket like a shield. "Personal space. Please. This is a trauma recounting, not a live dungeon tour."

"But it’s a ruined New York!" she insisted. "That’s like... post-apocalyptic fanfic bait! Were there abandoned convenience stores? Flickering vending machines? A collapsed Starbucks with lore implications?"

"Yes," I said flatly. "All of the above."

Selene made a strangled noise of joy and collapsed backwards onto the couch. "I’m ascending."

Ezravia pinched the bridge of her nose. "Focus. You said the ground floor resembled a dead version of New York."

"Identical layout," I confirmed. "Same streets. Same buildings. Same uncanny feeling that I should recognise everything, but nothing recognised me back."

Gabriel clasped her hands together, eyes wide. "That sounds... lonely."

"It was," I said quietly.

The room stilled just a bit at that.

I shifted Eris on my knee, her small weight grounding me as I continued.

"There were no people. No animals. No movement. Just wind, ash, and... remnants." I paused, choosing my words. "Footprints that never faded. Cars stopped mid-crash. Phones lying on sidewalks, screens cracked but still glowing faintly, looping notifications from people who were long gone."

Ravvy hugged a cushion to her chest. "T–That’s scary..."

Valeria tilted her head. "Emotionally scary or ’there’s going to be a jumpscare’ scary?"

"Both," I said. "But mostly the first."

Grayfia’s fingers brushed my sleeve—barely there, but intentional.

I continued. "And the worst part? It wasn’t random destruction. It was... curated like the floor was built from memory. Not mine. Someone else’s."

Selene blinked. "...What about the monsters?"

I stared into my mug for a long moment.

"They were low-ranked ghouls, and I was to clear the whole floor...Before I could proceed to the next floor," I finished quietly.

The room leaned in.

Even Selene, who had been vibrating with post-apocalyptic enthusiasm, froze mid-bounce.

Ezravia spoke first. "You were required to clear it."

"Yes."

"Define ’clear’," Valeria said. "Because that word has betrayed people before."

I hesitated.

"That’s not comforting," Selene whispered.

"It meant," I said slowly, "that nothing hostile could remain."

Ravvy made a very small sound. Somewhere between a squeak and a prayer.

Gabriel clasped her hands tighter. "H–Hostile... like... misunderstandings?"

"No," I said gently. "Hostile like ’will actively attempt to tear you apart and use your bones as interior décor.’"

Selene sucked in a breath. "Classic."

Zeraphira’s eyes narrowed. "And you were alone."

"...well not likely~" I said sheepishly.

Carmilla’s lips curved just a little as she took another delicate sip of tea, crimson eyes glinting with far too much amusement.

Zeraphira’s gaze snapped to her.

"...Explain."

Carmilla set her cup down with aristocratic precision. "He was not alone for his whole way to the top."

Selene gasped. "OH MY GOD. PARTY MEMBERS ACQUIRED?!"

"Well..." I sighed. "Come Forth."

My shadow spread out beneath me as a pair of shadowy hands pushed onto the ground and pulled themselves free of the floor as the world had simply decided to give up on pretending he didn’t belong there.

The shadow stretched, thickened, and then stood.

A tall figure rose from beneath the lightless stain at my feet, coat-like darkness draping over a humanoid silhouette. His form sharpened—edges defined, posture straightening with military precision. Two dim embers ignited where eyes should have been.

The room went dead silent.

"Erebus Uncle!" Eris was delighted upon seeing Erebus again.

"OMG! SHADOW MINION!" Selene squealed with both hands covering her mouth, eyes glittering with...

***

Stone me, I can take it!

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