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Now reading: Chapter 121: Spy Overgod 1/2 from My Three Beautiful Vampire Wives can hear my Inner Thoughts, a Fantasy novel by EspirituSantu.

Elder Fang’s eyes burned with open disdain as he looked Cain up and down, as though asuring him against an invisible scale and finding him painfully lacking.

"Average," he said at last, the word rolling off his tongue with cold contempt. "That is what you are. An average talent."

His voice was not loud, yet it carried to every corner of the courtyard.

"You stand in the fifth stage of the Blood Infusion Realm," he continued, stepping closer, his boots scraping lightly against the cracked stone. "Fifth stage. Do you even understand how insignificant that is within this family?"

Cain remained silent.

Elder Fang circled him again, slower this ti, as if lecturing a foolish child.

"There are children within the Moonshade family who reach the fifth stage before they are fully grown. There are outer branch disciples who surpass that level before they are granted a formal na."

His tone sharpened.

"You speak of sages, of plane wide disaster, of creatures pouring in from beyond the veil, yet your blood mana mystery barely qualifies you to stand in the outer courtyard during a family assembly."

A few older vampires lowered their heads, uncomfortable with how harsh the words were, but none dared interrupt.

Elder Fang stopped in front of Cain again and leaned slightly forward.

"Do you know what it takes to even approach a sage vampire? Their presence alone can crush Blood Infusion vampires into kneeling. Their gaze can read your past and asure your bloodline in a single breath."

His lips curled faintly.

"And you expect us to believe that such a being chose you. You, who are stuck at the fifth stage."

Faith clenched her hands at her sides. She wanted to speak, yet the weight of Elder Fang’s authority pressed against her chest.

Cain t the elder’s gaze without flinching. His heart beat steadily. He felt the pressure in the air, the contempt in the elder’s voice, and the doubt spreading among the gathered clan mbers, yet he did not bow his head.

Elder Fang’s eyes narrowed further.

"Or perhaps," he said slowly, drawing the words out, "you are not rely delusional."

A cold silence followed.

"Perhaps you are lying."

The accusation hung heavy in the night air.

A murmur broke out at once.

"Lying?"

"For what purpose?"

Elder Fang straightened his back, his long hair flowing down like a dark river behind him.

"Think carefully," he said, turning to address the entire Moonshade gathering. "He arrives suddenly. He speaks of disaster. He demands support before informing the elders. He gathers you all in one place."

His gaze swept over them one by one.

"Does that not resemble a trap?"

The murmurs grew louder.

"Trap?"

"You an..."

Elder Fang’s voice hardened. "What if he seeks to lure the Moonshade family into a reckless move? What if he wants us to mobilize our forces based on false fear?"

He turned sharply toward Cain.

"What if you are a spy?"

The word struck like a blade.

Gasps echoed around the courtyard.

"A spy?"

"Impossible..."

"From which faction?"

Faith’s face went pale. "Elder Fang, that is too far—"

He raised a hand, silencing her instantly.

"Too far?" he repeated calmly. "Is it too far to consider that an unknown branch mber appears with grand claims and urgent demands?"

He began pacing again, his steps deliberate and slow.

"Enemies of the Moonshade family are not fools. They know they cannot defeat us through open war easily. So they plant seeds of chaos. They create confusion. They drive families to exhaust themselves."

His eyes locked on Cain.

"Perhaps you are one such seed."

The courtyard buzzed with tension.

One of the vampires who had earlier regained clarity from Cain’s intervention stepped forward.

His voice trembled slightly, but he spoke anyway.

"Elder Fang, with respect, he saved us. We were losing control. Our blood was boiling. If not for him, many of us would have gone berserk."

Several others nodded.

"Yes. We felt our minds clearing."

"It was real."

Elder Fang’s expression did not soften.

"Or perhaps," he said coldly, "he already possessed the antidote."

Silence fell again.

"What?" soone whispered.

Elder Fang’s gaze sharpened. "If one were to poison a group slowly, then later present the cure, would that not earn trust?"

A chill ran through the gathered vampires.

"You an he caused it?"

"It could be possible..."

Faith’s chest tightened. She stepped forward despite the pressure. "Elder Fang, that is speculation. There is no proof."

"There is no proof he t a sage either," Elder Fang replied evenly.

The murmurs swelled into a restless tide.

So vampires looked at Cain with doubt in their eyes now. Others looked conflicted, rembering the relief they felt when their blood stabilized. A few younger mbers began whispering nervously about spies and infiltration.

Cain listened to all of it.

The suspicion.

The fear.

The whispers that once carried respect now carried doubt.

He understood why. Elder Fang was not a fool. His reasoning, though harsh, was not without logic.

Still, Cain did not lower his head.

Elder Fang lifted his chin slightly.

"Enough words," he declared. "If he is a spy, I will deal with him myself."

The blood mana around him flared again, but this ti it condensed, growing denser rather than spreading wide.

A faint crimson glow gathered around his body, then focused inward before erupting outward in a powerful wave aid directly at Cain.

This was not a simple show of aura.

It was concentrated blood pressure, refined and sharpened.

The kind that could force a weaker cultivator into unconsciousness in seconds.

The air roared as it rushed toward Cain.

Several nearby vampires staggered backward, unable to endure the intensity.

Faith’s heart leapt into her throat. "Ca-!" but she stopped as she noticed sothing strange.

The wave struck him head on.

Dust rose around his feet.

Clothes fluttered violently.

For a heartbeat, the courtyard was filled with rushing wind and crackling energy.

Then the dust settled.

Cain still stood there.

His posture unchanged.

His breathing steady.

His eyes clear.

Elder Fang blinked.

Perhaps I held back too much.

He frowned slightly, drawing more blood mana into his core. He released another surge, stronger this ti, focused like a spear rather than a wave.

The pressure slamd into Cain again.

Stone beneath Cain’s feet cracked.

Small fragnts lifted into the air from the force.

Yet Cain did not fall.

He did not even sway.

He simply stood there, looking at Elder Fang with calm eyes.

A flicker of doubt appeared in the elder’s gaze.

He increased the intensity once more.

This ti, the blood mana roared like a storm, spiraling outward in layers that pressed down from all directions. The air felt thick, almost liquid. So weaker vampires collapsed to one knee, sweat forming on their brows as they struggled to breathe.

Elder Fang poured more power into the attack.

Cain’s clothes snapped sharply in the wind.

His hair moved wildly.

But his expression did not change.

Inside, Cain felt the pressure pressing against his body, testing his muscles, probing his blood. Yet sothing within him absorbed it, neutralized it, as though the force t a wall deeper than flesh.

Elder Fang’s brows knitted together.

Impossible.

He tightened his jaw and pushed harder.

Veins stood out faintly on his neck as he increased the flow of blood mana from his core.

The crimson aura around him brightened to a near blinding shade.

The pressure intensified again.

The courtyard ground fractured further.

Cracks spread outward like spider webs.

Still, Cain stood.

Unmoved.

Unfazed.

Murmurs began again, but this ti they were different.

"He is not kneeling..."

"How is he still conscious?"

"That pressure should knock out a fifth stage cultivator instantly..."

Elder Fang’s breathing grew heavier.

He released the pressure and stepped back slightly, staring at Cain as though seeing him for the first ti.

No. I misjudged.

He gathered himself and tried again.

Another wave.

Stronger.

More concentrated.

He focused on Cain’s mind this ti, directing the force not only at his body but at his consciousness.

The attack struck.

Silence.

Cain’s eyes remained clear.

He even tilted his head slightly, as though confused by the effort.

Elder Fang’s heartbeat quickened.

He felt sweat forming along his temples.

He tried again.

And again.

Each ti, he doubted himself at first, telling himself that perhaps he had not gone far enough, that perhaps he was restraining himself unconsciously because this was still a family mber.

So he increased the power each ti.

Each ti he expected the boy to falter.

To blink.

To stagger.

To collapse.

Yet nothing changed.

Cain remained as steady as a pillar rooted deep into the earth.

After the seventh attempt, Elder Fang’s breathing turned uneven.

After the tenth, his chest began to rise and fall more heavily.

His hands trembled faintly at his sides as he poured more and more energy into the assault.

The courtyard now felt like the center of a raging storm, yet at its eye stood a young man who looked almost bored.

Fear began creeping into Elder Fang’s thoughts.

What is this?

He could feel the strain in his core now. The continuous release of high level blood pressure drained him faster than he expected.

Still, he refused to stop.

He roared and unleashed another burst, stronger than all the previous ones combined.

The ground split further.

Nearby vampires retreated to the edges of the courtyard, eyes wide with shock.

Cain’s figure was engulfed in crimson light.

When it faded, he was still there.

Unhard.

Unbent.

Elder Fang staggered back a step.

His breathing turned ragged.

A thin line of sweat ran down his cheek.

The confident elder who had mocked Cain monts ago now stared at him with growing disbelief.

How?

His chest felt tight.

His mind raced through possibilities, none of them comforting.

He tried once more, though his arms felt heavy and his core burned with overuse.

The final burst ca out weaker than the previous one, though he pushed with everything he had left.

It struck Cain and dissolved like mist against a mountain.

Silence fell across the courtyard.

Elder Fang’s shoulders trembled as he lowered his hands.

He was panting now, breath coming in uneven pulls.

The realization settled slowly, like cold water pouring down his spine.

This was not normal.

This was not possible for a fifth stage Blood Infusion cultivator.

His eyes widened.

"You..." His voice cracked slightly.

He took another step back, genuine fear now surfacing in his gaze.

"You... Who are you?"

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