My Wives Are A Divine Hive Mind

The plains of Fathomi stretched endlessly before the army of Naryashui's duplicates, a desolate expanse of cracked earth and smoldering ash under a crimson sky that pulsed with latent aftermath of destruction.

Regardless of the history behind these scars, the marching lunatics of madness didn't care.

The horde of rabbit-like humanoids marched in eerie unison, their reddish-brown cloaks fluttering like bloodstained banners, their red eyes glinting with feral anticipation like sharpened edges in the sea of madness.

Their claw-like arms twitched with restless energy, some clutching Curio Items—blades that hummed with voidfire, talismans that shimmered with entropic light, or orbs that pulsed with corrosive mist.

A single one of them could take down ten if not fifty of the average Voidlings, and if qualified within a Void Hunter Chapter, one of the duplicate, mirroring their original if not more—should be as strong if not stronger than a Grade B or even a Grade A Void Hunter.

And with an army of them marching and uniting their prowess in a symphony of insanity, not even the local inhabitants of the plains even dares to be in front of their path.

At the forefront of the horde strode the leader, her cloak adorned with silver embroidery and spiked pauldrons, her red eyes scanning the horizon with a predatory glint.

"Hmm, something doesn't feel right." For the first time ever, she questioned and hesitated to march forward to their next raid destination, something that she never thought before laying destruction in their wake. "I don't like putting reasons in my action, but maybe getting a little bit wary is fine time to time~"

Her curved knife, still stained with Naryashui's blood from their last encounter, swung idly at her hip, its void-etched blade catching the crimson light.

Beside her walked a mage duplicate specialized in farsight magic, her cloak less ornate but marked with glowing runes that pulsed with each step.

This duplicate was also the one who singlehandedly got tasked to use 90% of her productivity finding their raiding target after every battle they fought.

While it makes sense to have a couple of scouts to ensure the location of their goal, the army of duplicates didn't really utilize logic in many of their operations.

"Your face is quite funny this time around, leader~"

The mage's eyes glowed brighter than the others, her smile sharp and confident, as if she saw beyond the physical realm.

However, her face was paler than the usual duplicates due to the excessive usage of Mana Psyche beyond her available reservoir, which even took tool to her regeneration capability.

This alone rendered the foresight specialist to be nothing but a wimp who could get obliterated in a one on one fight with another duplicate. But considering her role in the horde, she was rather cherished and appreciated amongst her cloned kin.

"Good, because you will bear the consequence of every answers you gave me for these very specific questions of mine~"

The massive caravan fortress rumbled behind them, its spiked exterior bristling with jagged red blades, its wheels grinding the earth into dust.

Inside, duplicates worked tirelessly—not only in logistic, but also powering the hardcore fortress forward using their blood as the catalyst, thanks to their powerful regeneration capability and seemingly unlimited source of clones from the relic that was brought inside that mobile headquarters.

The leader's grin faltered as she turned to the mage, her voice low and edged with irritation. "What's this next bastion we're raiding? You've been peering through your spells more than what I usually counted on former raids—give me details. And they'd better be good."

The mage chuckled, her red eyes glinting with amusement as she adjusted a glowing talisman at her waist. "Oh, it's a prize worth taking, Leader. I had to punch through thick magical interference—wards layered like a fortress mated with mazes—but I glimpsed it~!

"This bastion is massive, like the old, powerful ones filled with history, but it's fractured. Its lands are scattered, physically unconnected except for a few paths, floating in an outer-dimensional flow.

"They're caught in distortion yet bound together, making them scatter like petals as if the chaos itself holds them in place. At the same time, their inhabitants are connected with one another as if nothing ever change~"

The leader's smile broke, her claws tightening around her knife's hilt, a flicker of anger crossing her face. "Are you telling me you picked a target stronger than our army can handle? Are you sure that I'm not hearing an attempt of mutiny? Purposely choosing a bastion that sounds like it could crush us!?"

Her voice rose, her red eyes narrowing as she stepped closer, the air crackling with her barely restrained fury.

The mage didn't flinch, her snicker cutting through the tension. "Calm down, Leader. Size doesn't mean strength. This bastion reeks of divine essence—like a cult worshiping some deity. You know how those places work.

"They lean on their god's power, not their own. Their civilization barely advances beyond a city-like sprawl, all order and stability handed down from above. And here's the kicker~ they're not stable. Cult bastions never are.

"Their deity's grip is all that holds them together, and if that falters, they crumble. Are you getting what I'm saying now~?"

The leader's eyes narrowed further, her claws twitching. "Elaborate."

The mage's smile widened, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone. "I scryed their lands multiple times. No weapons, no defensive structures—at least none I could see... The inhabitants? They're practically parading around in scraps of cloth, barely dressed, with next to no Curio Items in sight.

"No blades, no talismans, no visible spell formation I could detect, though, well, they possess some runes there and there, but!

"It's like they've grown soft, basking in their deity's protection, thinking nothing can touch them." She paused, letting the words sink in, her red eyes gleaming with delight. "This bastion's ripe for the taking, Leader. All that divine essence, all those resources, just waiting for us to carve up!

The leader's grin returned, slow and predatory, her claws relaxing slightly. "Too peaceful, huh? Sheltered by their god until they forgot how to fight?" She laughed, a sharp, barking sound that echoed across the plains. "Pathetic. But if they're a cult, what about their deity? What do we know about it? I'm not walking into a divine trap because you missed something."

The mage scoffed, tossing her head, her light brown hair catching the crimson light. "Their deity? It's some harvest god. Can you believe it? A deity of crops and plenty." She smirked, her claws tracing the runes on her talisman. "The original—Naryashui—fought a deity once, remember? One with a far scarier portfolio than a harvest~

"If she could handle that, we'd have nothing to fear from this one."

The leader threw her head back, her laughter erupting in a wild, unrestrained cackle that made nearby duplicates glance over, their own grins mirroring hers. "A harvest deity? You had me worried for a moment!

"To think I was scared of a god who blesses wheat and fruit!" Her stomach shook with laughter, her claws clutching her sides as she doubled over. "What's next, they'll throw pumpkins at us?"

The mage's smile grew, her voice sly. "Oh, and get this, it's a young deity. Barely a month and a half old, from what I could piece together. Probably still figuring out its own divine spark!"

The leader's laughter cut off abruptly, her face twisting into a scowl.

With a swift motion, she swung her knife, severing the mage's hand in a spray of blood.

The appendage hit the ground, twitching, as the mage hissed but didn't flinch. "You idiot! It doesn't change the fact!" the leader snarled. "A massive bastion, and you pick it without warning me it's this complex? Outer-dimensional, divine-powered, and you think it's an easy mark? Conjuring calamities to soften them up will take longer than it did for Eryndor!"

The mage calmly picked up her severed hand, pressing it to her wrist. Crimson light flared, and the flesh knitted together in seconds.

Despite her weakened strength, her regeneration was enough to reattach a limb or two.

"Relax, Leader. The relic's been generous. We've got 500 new duplicates fresh from the artifact, going through indoctrination as we speak~

"That brings us to 7,000 total, with 2,000 more routing back from a nearby bastion they just razed. Numbers won't be a problem."

The leader's scowl softened, her red eyes glinting with renewed confidence. "Seven thousand, huh? Good. It'll take time to fell a bastion that big, but the bigger the prize, the sweeter the loot. The sweeter the screams." Her grin returned, wide and vicious, as she imagined the feast to come—possible divine artifacts, and the despair of a broken cult.

"We'll drown their harvest god in blood~!" The leader then paused, her expression shifting to a deadpan stare, her claws tapping her knife's hilt. "One more thing. Have you been messing with new spells or Curio Items lately?"

The mage raised an eyebrow, her smile faltering slightly. "Why do you ask?"

The leader's eyes narrowed, her voice low and suspicious. "I've had a feeling for days now. Like we're being watched. Something unseen, slinking through our ranks, collecting information. It's too precise to be chance."

The mage's eyes widened, then narrowed as a new assumption clicked into place. She snapped her fingers, "That's it. It must be their deity. A harvest god, young or not, might have farsight powers of its own, spying on us to gauge its enemies. Cheeky little divine, poking into our business~!"

The leader's grin returned, this time laced with excitement. "Cheeky, huh? Plausible. If they're watching and still not do anything, they're scared. And they should be." She twirled her knife, its blade catching the crimson light. "A strong deity would've smote us by now—called down a calamity, burned us to ash.

"The fact we're still marching means this harvest god's weak. Probably trembling in its divine orchard~"

The mage nodded, her smile mirroring the leader's. "Exactly. No miracles, no divine wrath. Just a cult hiding behind a fledgling god~ We'll tear through them like we did Eryndor and the bastions before it!"

The leader's claws twitched, her laughter returning, low and eager. "I can't wait for this battle. A massive bastion, divine punishment for the divine, and a god to break? This'll be our greatest symphony yet~" She turned, her cloak billowing as she faced the horde, raising her knife high. "March, sisters! We'll carve this cult apart and feast on their despair!"

The duplicates roared, their warcries a cacophony of shrieks and giggles, their red eyes blazing with hunger.

The caravan fortress rumbled forward, its spikes gleaming, as the army of 7,000 surged toward the unknown bastion.

Unaware it was Vaingall, their claws itching for the slaughter to come.