My Wives Are A Divine Hive Mind

The fractured plains of Fathomi shimmered faintly as the army of Naryashui's duplicates marched toward their target, a sprawling bastion they knew only as a massive, divine-touched land, unaware it was Vaingall.

Seven thousand rabbit-like humanoids moved in eerie terror, their reddish-brown cloaks billowing like bloodied sails, their red eyes glowing with feral glee.

And with them, they carried the air that was thick with the stench of ash and blood.

The ground scarred from their past conquests, yet their steps were silent, cloaked by layers of stealth spells cast by their battle-oriented mages.

The massive caravan fortress rumbled behind, its spiked exterior bristling with red blades, its wheels grinding the earth as duplicates within fueled it with their regenerative blood.

In the distance, a lone watchtower came into view, its obsidian spire standing stark against the horizon, devoid of defenders, walls, or artillery.

No ballistas, no runes, no signs of life—just an empty structure on a fragmented piece of land connected by faint, shimmering paths to the larger bastion beyond.

The duplicates erupted in laughter, their shrieks and giggles echoing across the plains. "Look at this!" one cried, her claws gleaming. "No defenses! It's a feast waiting for us!"

Another twirled her voidfire blade, cackling. "This'll be easier than Eryndor—barely a warm-up!"

"At this point, we should just go straight to the raiding!"

"Ahahah, agree, my sister! Who even bothers over preparing for a feast when they already gave us the fork and knife!"

"I have zero idea what you meant by that, but I agree!"

Their leader, her cloak adorned with silver embroidery and spiked pauldrons, stood at the rear, her red eyes narrowed, her usual grin absent.

Beside her, the farsighted mage, her cloak marked with glowing runes, adjusted a talisman, her pale face betraying the strain of overused Mana Psyche.

The mage chuckled, her voice sly. "Brutes, all of them…. Rushing in like this is a slaughterhouse buffet. Then again, that's what they all really want anyway.

"Oh well, as much as I want to join, I'll stay back—gotta keep my strength for the next farsight session." She glanced at the leader, noting her stillness. "You're not marching with them, Leader. That's new. What's eating you?"

The leader's claws tightened around her blood-stained knife, its void-etched blade catching the crimson light. "This bastion's different, as expected," she said, her voice low, devoid of its usual malice. "My instincts are screaming—have been since we started this march.

"Every duplicate out there feels it too, but their madness drowns it out. They keep moving, but their bodies are begging them to stop."

The mage scoffed, her red eyes glinting. "You're worrying too much. So what if their deity's watching? We knew that already—we caught them like a rat peeking through hole meant for the light to shine.

"But the inhabitants? Clueless." She waved a hand, her runes flaring briefly. "I checked again just now. They're farming, building temples, strolling around in scraps of cloth like it's a festival. No weapons, no defenses. They're oblivious to the horror we're about to unleash, hehe~"

The leader's eyes narrowed further. "You're sure about that?"

"Positive," the mage said, her smile widening. "Our new strategy's perfect. No days of conjuring calamities to soften them up—that'd just fuel their prayers, make their deity stronger.

"Instead, we hit hard and fast with our demonic conjurations fighting alongside us. Barriers, stealth spells, full march—they won't know what hit them until we're carving their flesh~"

The leader nodded slowly, but her unease lingered. "Fine. But if this goes wrong, your head's next."

"You love me too much to kill me completely." The mage snickered. "Reattaching a head or two won't be the end of me~"

The leader turned to the army, raising her knife. "Forward, sisters! March with the demons and tear this bastion apart!"

The duplicates roared, their warcries a cacophony of shrieks and giggles, as they summoned their conjurations—hulking beasts of shadow and flame, winged horrors with molten claws, and skittering monstrosities with too many eyes.

The creatures swelled their ranks, their numbers rivaling fifteen thousand as they surged toward the bastion, cloaked in stealth and shielded by barriers that shimmered faintly in the air.

The fractured land loomed closer. Yet, the watchtower stood silent still, its emptiness mocking the duplicates' expectations.

They pushed forward, their conjured monsters snarling, their stealth spells humming with power.

The mage lingered at the rear, her eyes scanning the horizon, confident in their invisibility. Heck, they even put on layers upon layers of anti-spell equations and physical barrier formation that moved along with their marching prowess.

But the leader's claws twitched, her instincts clawing at her mind, urging her to not continue this transgression toward a deity, as if that thought alone should be enough to be the end of her.

"This is too good to be true."

Then, above the edge of the bastion's land, a faint distortion rippled the air, like heat rising from stone.

A hyper-concentrated ball of energy formed, its core a pulsing violet that seemed to drink in the surrounding light, its edges crackling with arcs of dark matter.

The leader's eyes widened, her breath catching, as she watched the ball began to get even more concentrated with even more energy for every seconds that it stayed afloat.

"No—" she finally whispered, but it was too late.

The ball erupted, unleashing hundreds of branching, arching beams of violet destruction.

Each beam moved with surgical precision, piercing through the duplicates' stealth spells and barriers as if they were paper.

The light enveloped the front lines, bathing dozens in blinding entropy.

And after seconds of being engulfed in blinding violet, their bodies dissolved instantly, no ash, no fragments—just gone, erased from existence.

Screams cut off mid-breath as the beams struck, leaving only silence in their wake.

The conjured monsters roared, some disintegrating under the onslaught, their forms unraveling into wisps of shadow.

The duplicates faltered, their laughter replaced by confusion, but their madness drove them forward.

"Keep going!" one shouted, her claws slashing the air. "We've got numbers! They can't stop us all!"

The army pressed on, their remaining six thousand duplicates and conjured beasts charging across the fractured paths, their barriers flickering but holding.

The mage smirked, unfazed. "Ah so they do have some sort of defenses. However, I detected not a single divinity from it, meaning that it is powered by something else.

"And if it needs to be powered to keep on running, they'll run out of power soon"

But before the words settled, another violet ball formed, its core pulsing with the same devouring light.

Unlike the first time, in less than ten seconds, faster than the one before it—it unleashed another barrage, beams splitting and curving to strike with unerring accuracy.

Hundreds more duplicates vanished, their bodies consumed by fiery entropy, their conjurations collapsing into nothingness.

And it happened again.

And again.

And again!

After every shot, the attack became faster and faster, as if it was revving up to reach its peak performance over time.

The army's ranks dwindled, the once-mighty force of possibly fifteen thousand and more combined with the conjured monsters reduced to mere thousands in moments.

The beams came again, and again, relentless, each wave carving through the horde with surgical precision, leaving the land untouched—no craters, no scars, just the absence of the lives of those that were aiming for the destruction of the holy land.

The duplicates' madness began to crack, their red eyes wide with dawning fear.

"What is this?!" one shrieked, her claws trembling as she clutched a shattered talisman of protection. "No spell should be able to be casted this fast!"

"Surely, they will run out of Mana Psyche, hahaha…"

"Are we sure that it is the undoing of a spellcaster…?

Another fell, her body erased mid-step, her warcry silenced.

The conjured monsters roared, their forms disintegrating under the relentless onslaught, their numbers no match for the unseen force.

The leader gritted her teeth, her knife shaking in her grip.

Not many of them counted but the leader had already tracked the numbers.

Around 5000 of them had already fallen in such a ridiculously fast amount of time, barely any of them even reached the edge of the bastion they attempted to conquer.

This should be enough and fill the requirement of a fight that they cannot win.

"Retreat!" she bellowed, her voice cutting through the chaos. "Fall back, now!"

But the army, driven by their own insanity, hesitated, their instincts warring with their bloodlust.

Some turned, others pushed forward, only to be met by another wave of violet beams.

The horde shrank to a thousand duplicates, their conjurations reduced to scattered remnants, the ground littered with broken Curio Items but no bodies.

The mage's smile faded, her pale face growing paler.

"This… this isn't possible. No deity's this strong—not a harvest god, not a young one!" She cast another farsight spell, her runes flaring, but saw nothing new—only the same oblivious inhabitants, farming, building, untouched by the chaos at their borders. "They're not even reacting! How—"

As if all she had seen was something that was made to be seen on purpose, while the true activity of the bastion was hidden from access.

Before she could finish, a new presence materialized behind them, sudden and silent, as if stepping from thin air.

A towering figure materialized behind them without warning, as if stepping from the void itself—three meters tall, its ornate form a vision of armored elegance fused with infernal allure, clad in sleek black plates etched with swirling runes that evoked swirling tempests of desire and fury.

A Valkyrie-like helm crowned its head, framing a blindfold that concealed its eyes yet radiated an unnerving psychic hum, while its lower body ended in needle-like legs that pierced the earth with silent menace, poised like a predator ready to impale.

Its blindfolded face turned toward them, lips curling into a flirtatious, cruel grin that promised both ecstasy and oblivion.

"Oh, darlings~" it purred, its voice a silken whisper laced with psychic temptation, dripping with mocking sweetness. "Don't stop now, little rabbits. Keep marching, keep spilling your pretty blood. It's such a delicious show—let me watch you unravel yourselves for us~"

The leader froze, her instincts screaming louder than ever, her red eyes locked on the divine construct.

Its presence was overwhelming, its power unlike anything they'd faced—not a harvest deity's gentle warmth, but a force of radiant destruction that clawed at the mind.

The remaining duplicates faltered, their warcries silenced, as the construct's grin widened.

"Or maybe I should give you the reason to fight for your life?"