My Supernatural Girlfriends Spoils Me Rotten

The body lay motionless on the stone slab, his skin pale and taut, stretched over thin muscle.

No breath stirred his chest. No twitch of a finger, no flutter of an eyelid. He was empty now—a hollow vessel.

But the body was still alive—physically, at least.

Unlike blood vessels, which shriveled and decayed after death, magic pathways persisted for a short time, slowly breaking down unless preserved.

Regardless, it would still be destroyed after a certain period. That's why the Redthorn used a living person to do it—they would have more breathing room.

Time was of the essence.

Asher stood straight, fingers hovering inches above Leno's chest, his hands steady with energy.

A faint, crackling heat coiled around his fingertips, bending the air in restless waves.

It pulsed, distorting the space around it.

'I'll start with the core.'

He exhaled slowly, pressing his palm against it.

The moment his skin made contact, a ripple of golden light surged outward, illuminating the entire body.

Glowing lines flared beneath the skin, winding like a web through the arms, along the spine, and beyond.

The pathways were resisting.

Even without a soul to bind them, they still clung desperately to the body they were used to, unwilling to be torn free.

'Not going to make this easy, huh?' he murmured, more to himself than anyone else.

He flicked his fingers, conjuring a thin, glowing scalpel-like blade of energy.

'Normally, this would be done gently. But since I don't care about preserving the body—'

With a sharp flick of his wrist, he sliced into the very fabric of the pathways.

A brilliant burst of blood-red light erupted from the wound, crackling with unstable energy.

This would unsettle most, but he remained calm, his focus sharpening on those nearly invisible threads, precise as a microscope.

His blade dug into them, gripping the pathways as if they were tangible threads.

Leno's body twitched involuntarily, the residual magic in the muscles reacting to the disturbance. The pathways coiled and thrashed, refusing to detach.

At this rate, he would fail to extract them before they dissolved.

He needed to adjust—Leno's body was far more volatile than he expected.

Asher tightened his grip. "I don't have time for this."

He raised his other hand and cast a secondary spell.

Dozens of spectral hands burst into existence behind him. Each one hovered, ready like a blade, waiting for his command.

This wasn't what he planned, but it would have to do.

Instead of severing the tendrils one by one, he would cut them in batches—grouping them by sectors, like the tangled cluster in the chest.

It was faster, more efficient. And right now, speed was everything.

'Now'

The spectral hands struck at once, severing the tangled threads in perfect unison.

Energy crackled through the air as the connections snapped, sending a sharp pulse through the room.

It thrashed, destabilizing like a fish yanked from water.

Asher acted fast, conjuring a containment field—a shimmering sphere that trapped the rogue pathways before they could dissolve.
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'One down,' he muttered. 'Now for the rest.'

The process was anything but smooth. Each sector ripped free with violent resistance.

Some parts shattered upon removal, forcing him to weave them back together with delicate control.

Others tried to burrow back into the body, unwilling to be separated from what remained of their host.

One by one, he pulled them free.

Leno's body deteriorated further with each extraction. His skin turned pale and brittle, as though life itself was stripped away in layers.

By the time he removed the final strand, the body dissolved into dust.

It was done.

The collected magic pathways now floated inside the containment field, a glowing, pulsating mass of red lines.

It was beautiful—a perfect network of stolen power, still intact, still alive.

Lucian exhaled, barely realizing he'd been holding his breath.

The level of control required to pull this off was astronomical, proving that his son-in-law wasn't just raw power—his precision was on an entirely different level.

Asher turned to him, eyes sharp with focus. "I need to check your body first to map out the exact formation. Hold still."

Lucian drew in a slow breath, steadying himself. His muscles tensed, and he remained still. "Do what you need to."

"Got it." Asher pressed his palm against Lucian's, and a faint glow pulsed across his chest.

The light spread outward, branching through his body like an intricate blueprint, tracing every thread of energy woven beneath his skin.

'Good.' Asher's eyes narrowed as he studied the glowing lines. 'Their structures are nearly identical.'

That was very important.

A person's magic pathways were deeply personal—an intricate web of energy channels shaped by bloodline, experience, and the unique way their soul interacted.

If the donor's pathways were too different, Lucian's body would reject them outright, tearing itself apart in the process.

But Leno was his brother. His pathways, while shaped by his own life, started from the same foundation.

Still, the procedure wouldn't be simple.

Adjusting and transferring a magic pathway was far more complex than replacing a physical organ.

Energy wasn't just stored inside a body—it was woven into its very essence.

Which meant Lucian's body wouldn't just accept the transfer. It would fight it.

"I'll need to restrain you—you can't afford to move too much," Asher explained.

Lucian barely reacted before a bunch of metal chains materialized. It slithered up his legs, wrapping around his thighs, his waist, and his chest.

A moment later, the metal surged higher, winding around his throat—not enough to choke him, but was firm and unyielding

He tested the restraints out of instinct, but there was no movement. No slack. No chance of breaking free.

"Good. That should keep you still." Asher rolled his shoulders, stretching out his fingers, preparing for the next course of action.

"This is gonna hurt," he warned again. "I need to destroy your magic pathways fast—no time to be gentle."

Lucian forced a reply, his voice low but steady. "Just do it... I'm ready for anything."