My Wives Are Seven Beautiful Demonesses

[Location: Morningstar Manor, New York]

Zeraphira went to prepare dinner, while I stood right there, right beside her.

Inside Grayfia's room, her faint breath lingered like the soft echo of a fading hymn—steady, serene, but fragile enough to twist something sharp inside my chest.

Her silver hair shimmered beneath the dim mana-lamps, each strand catching the light like spun moonfire. A faint frost haloed her body, the natural residue of her power still unconsciously active even in her sleep.

I approached the bedside quietly. Even now, sealed in slumber, Grayfia looked divine—serene and untouchable. But seeing her like this… powerless, frozen between life and death—it made my insides burn.

"Damn it…" I whispered, my hand curling into a fist. "You cared for 'me' for over a thousand years, and I still can't do anything for you?"

I want nothing more than storming hell and slaughtering each and every bastard who had a hand in this. But right now, I couldn't. I wasn't strong enough—not even close.

[Status Window]

• Name: Dominic Nocturne von Morningstar

• Race: Demon (Incomplete Primordial Fragment) / ???

• Level: 102

• Job: Demiurgic Archon

• Rank: C

• Title: [Dances With Wolves], [The Forsaken Lucifer(Locked)], [He Who Shouldn't Be Awake(Locked)], [God-Eater], [The One Who Creates in Defiance].]

• HP: 5610/5610

• MP: 0/4310

[Stats]

• Strength: 645 (+50)

• Agility: 541

• Stamina: 561 (+50)

• Intelligence: 431

• Sense: 501

—Available Stats Points: 110)

Reduction in physical damage: 60%

[Skills]

• Sovereign Haki (Passive/Active): Armament Core (Lvl. 35), Observation Gird (Lvl. 30), Conqueror's Will (Lvl. 35)

• Conqueror's Coating (Active)(Lvl. 1) — Manifestation of supreme dominance. Infuses the user's attacks with the essence of the Conqueror's Will, allowing strikes to bypass conventional defences and directly damage spirit, soul, and willpower.

• Demiurgic Physiology (Passive)(Lvl. 1) — The body of the Demiurge, sculpted from divine entropy and chaos-born potential. Grants limitless evolutionary potential, extreme resistance to conceptual interference, and a vessel capable of housing transcendent energies beyond mortal or demonic limits.

• King's Call (Active)(Lvl. 1) — Creates a shadow soldier by extracting Mana from the recently deceased lifeform.

[Job-specific skills]

— Active skills:

• [Genesis Manifestation] (Lvl. 1) — Constructs temporary reality fragments using pure Aetheric Concept. Power, form, and scale are limited only by imagination and vessel integrity.

• [Creation Reversal] (Lvl. 1) — Rewrites the last five seconds of a manifested construct's existence. Cost: exponentially increases with each reversal.

• [Aether Domain] (Lvl. 1) — Temporarily imposes the user's conceptual laws on a localised area. Duration scales with SPIRAL control and soul stability.

— Passive skills:

• [Conceptual Instinct] (Lvl. 1) — Subconscious adaptation to metaphysical structures. Grants intuition toward reality manipulation and defensive creation.

• [Lucifer's Insight] (Lvl. 1) — The eyes of rebellion. Perceive flaws, seams, and corruption in any existing structure—physical, magical, or spiritual.

[Inventory: Muramasa Blade, Chains of Enkidu, Berserker's Curse Mask, Random Loot Box (Blessed) x1, Random Loot Box (Cursed) x2, Random Box (Common) x1]

'Hmm... without Job-specific skills, the number of skills I have is a little... underwhelming.'

I sighed, dismissing the translucent blue panel. The runic light faded, leaving behind only the dim glow of the mana lamps and the quiet rhythm of Grayfia's breathing.

Underwhelming or not, it was what I had—and right now, it wasn't enough.

"I can't even heal you…" I murmured, lowering my gaze to her face. Her expression was calm, peaceful even, as though she was just resting after another long day of scolding me. But I could see the faint cracks of frost running along her skin like veins of glass. It wasn't death. It was something crueller—stasis.

She was sealed between existence and oblivion.

And I—an imposter wearing the name of a fallen prince—stood here pretending I could save her.

My jaw tightened. "I need to get stronger."

The words didn't echo, but they burned through me like molten lead.

My gaze stopped at Random Loot Box's in inventory—

Random Loot Box (Blessed)— obtain an item the user wants.

Random Loot Box (Cursed)— obtain an item the user needs.

'What I want and what I need, huh~'

I pulled out the Blessed Box first — its surface gleamed with faint golden runes, each symbol shifting as if alive, reacting to my heartbeat.

"Let's start with what I want," I muttered, my voice low. "Because what I need usually costs too much."

The box floated above my palm, humming softly.

Tti-ring!

[Would you like to open Blessed Random Loot Box?]

[Y/N]

'Yes.'

The box cracked open silently—light spilled out like liquid sunrise, enveloping me in its warmth. Symbols danced, rearranging into a single sigil that resembled a crown made of three interlocked circles.

Tti-ring!

[Congratulations! You have obtained — Crown Fragment: Archangel's Heart (1/3)]

"…A fragment?" I frowned, reading the description.

[Item Description: A piece of the original Crown of the Morningstar, once belonging to the Demiurgic Archangel Lucifer. When all three fragments are assembled, grants access to a sealed Divine Authority.]

[Current Function: Passive resonance. Increases soul recovery rate by 15%. Enhances growth rate of all Haki branches.]

Not bad—actually, perfect. The system never failed to surprise me.

"Alright," I said under my breath. "That's one."

My eyes drifted toward the cursed ones next. They pulsed in contrast—black and violet light leaking from the seams, like hungry voids waiting to consume everything they touched.

'What I need, huh… let's see if you're as merciful as you are cruel.'

I tapped one.

Tti-ring!

[Would you like to open Cursed Random Loot Box?]

[Y/N]

"Yes."

The box burst open—no light this time, just silence. The world around me darkened, shadows crawling up the walls like ink bleeding through reality. My reflection twisted on the floor.

The air thickened. The shadows stretched, merging into a bottomless void that pulsed like a living thing. For a heartbeat, I thought the room itself was breathing. Then—

Tti-ring!

[You have obtained: Key of the Vampire King's Castle]

— Rarity: S

— Category: Key

— A key that will let you enter the 'Dungeon: Vampire King's Castle'.

— Can be used at the Empire State Building, New York.

"It's an S?"

I raised my voice in surprise.

Of course, there was no guarantee that the rarity ranking had any bearing on the difficulty of the dungeon. But I couldn't think of it any other way.

The cursed light faded, leaving behind only the faint hum of residual mana and the ghostly shimmer of the key hovering in my hand. It was shaped like an ornate crimson cross—its edges dripping faint black mist, and its centre embedded with a ruby that pulsed like a beating heart.

"The Vampire King's Castle…" I muttered, tracing my thumb along the key's cold surface. "Sounds like trouble."

No, scratch that—it was trouble. The System didn't hand out "S-rank" anything without a reason. And if it was offering it through a cursed box—then whatever was waiting inside wasn't meant for me to want. It was what I needed.

Which meant it was going to hurt.

Still…

A grin tugged at my lips. "Perfect."

If I wanted to stand against the monsters that called Hell home… if I wanted to bring back Grayfia and... Lilith, I needed more than potential. I needed experience—real battle, real blood.

And maybe… a few broken bones along the way.

I stored the key away and sat down beside Grayfia's bed again. The frost that wrapped her form pulsed faintly, responding to the mana in the air. I placed a hand near her chest—close, but not touching—and felt the soft, rhythmic echo of her life force. Weak, distant, but steady.

"I'll bring you back," I whispered. "I don't care if I have to burn through every demon, god, or vampire that gets in my way."

For a long moment, I stayed there in silence. Only the low hum of the mana lamps filled the room.

Then—

Tti-ring!

[New Quest Unlocked — "Trial of Blood and Moonlight"]

[Objective: Conquer the Dungeon — Vampire King's Castle]

[Reward: ???]

[Penalty for Failure: Level Reduction -100]

"Figures." I leaned back, rubbing my temple. "A system that doesn't even give a preview. You really like keeping secrets, don't you?"

But even as I complained, something in me stirred. The part that had been quiet since awakening—the thrill, the pulse of power—the hunger.

The system notification faded, leaving behind a cold silence that felt heavier than the quest itself.

I let out a slow exhale, my gaze returning to the silver-haired woman before me. "A dungeon quest, huh… Guess the universe is telling me to stop pitying myself."

Grayfia's lips didn't move, but I could almost hear her familiar reprimand in my head: 'Then stop talking and move, master.'

A faint smile crossed my face. "Yeah… yeah, I know."

"Darling, dinner's ready— who were you talking to?" Zeraphira's crimson head poked in as she peeked through the half-open door, her voice lilting like velvet dipped in blood.

I froze mid-sentence, hand still hovering near Grayfia's bed.

"...No one," I said quickly, dispelling the lingering traces of mana from the system window. "Just… thinking out loud."

Zeraphira's eyes flicked from me to Grayfia's sleeping form. The faintest shadow of something unreadable—envy, guilt, maybe both—flashed through her crimson gaze before she masked it with her usual sultry smile.

"Still brooding beside her, hmm?" she teased softly, stepping in and letting the door close behind her with a whisper. "You'll freeze your heart before she ever wakes up."

"Wouldn't be the first time," I muttered.

She walked to the bedside with measured grace, the faint sway of her hips trailing mana like smoke. Her gaze softened as she looked down at Grayfia. "She's beautiful… even now. Almost tragic."

"She's not a tragedy," I said. "Not yet."

"Mm." Zeraphira tilted her head, amusement curling at the edges of her tone. "Then I suppose you'd better not die before she opens those pretty eyes."

I glanced up at her. "Planning to stop me if I do?"

Her lips curved into that dangerous, knowing smile. "Planning to follow you, if you do."

The air grew thick—too much emotion buried under too many masks. I turned away, breaking the tension with a sigh. "Dinner, right?"

Zeraphira nodded and gestured lightly. "Come. The food will get cold."

As we left the room, I glanced back once more. Grayfia's frost shimmered faintly, like moonlight rippling through water. For a split second, I thought her lips curved ever so slightly—like she'd heard everything.

But maybe that was just me.

***

Stone me, I can take it!

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