My Wives Are A Divine Hive Mind
Chapter 59: Severing The Wings

Chapter 59: Severing The Wings

After a solid hunting session, Kivas and Samael scrapped whatever edibles they could find from their spoils and processed them through the primordial fire, established from Kivas’ halo.

For some reason, the campfire that was made using Kivas’ halo possessed some divine trait that enhanced the food to a certain degree.

And to a great extent, it also greatly enhances the regeneration rate of their Hemo Psyche and Mana Psyche.

"Mhmm, divine skewer," Samael muttered with roasted meat still being chewed in her mouth.

"I don’t like the implication of that..."

Kivas also decided to dive into the dreamland to harvest all of the Nightmares that had been accumulating in her soul.

The reason why it felt more like a harvest than a one-man gladiator gauntlet was due to the assistance of the Samael’s Divine Constructs, running a mayhem on the world of inner slumber with their prowess that was directly taken from Samael’s Well of the Soul.

And since their existence didn’t affect the attributes gain, Kivas barely had any hard time in this latest Nightmare-faring session.

Samael was also able to accurately deduce how long the process happen, allowing her to safely wake Kivas up immediately right after the harvest was finished.

"Wake up, sleepyhead."

"Mmmm..."

"A Nihil had just arrived and we’re within its radius of utterly assured destruction."

Kivas jolted up, awake and in panic. "Wuh?? What!?"

"You finally woke up."

"..."

The two of them gazed at each other, and Kivas immediately knew that there was no Nihil that would perform an utterly assured destruction.

Regardless of the method, the intent was there.

So Kivas couldn’t even be mad.

➤ 『WELL OF THE SOUL』

Name: Kivas Chariot

Race: Fateling

Total Level: 3

➤ 『Attributes』

💪 Strength (STR): 288

🧠 Intelligence Quotient (IQ): 295

🙏 Piety (PIE): 170

🛡️ Vitality (VIT): 537

💨 Speed (SPD): 306

🎯 Dexterity (DEX): 288

🍀 Luck (LUK): 130

➤ 『Vitals』

❤️ Hemo Psyche (HP): 48 / 48

🔮 Mana Psyche (MP): 38 / 38

➤ 『Derived Stats』

🗡️ Attack Power: 288

✨ Magic Power: 295

🔆 Divine Power: 170

🛡️ Defense: 537

🍃 Magic Defense: 170

👁️ Detect: 248

🧩 Disarm Trap: 241

🚧 Evade Trap: 253

🏃 Action Speed: 306

🎯 Accuracy: 241

🌀 Evasion: 253

⛓️ Resistance: 298

➤ 『Classes』

◈ Priest Lv3 Disc0

➤ 『Skills』

◈ Divine Soulmate Imbuer Lv1 – You possess the power to imbue a Genesis Core onto your fated soulmate.

◈ Fate Weaver Lv1 – You possess the power to weave fate.

◈ Remembrance of Renenutet Lv1 – You embodies a fertile field, bringer of happiness, and a nourishment of milk.

◈ Frugal Vow Lv1 – You limits the amount of your spiritual equipment in exchange of enhancing the effects of what you equips.

◈ Soul Entanglement Lv1 – You possess the power to latch your soul.

◈ Detection Pulse of Madness Lv1 – You possess the power to scatter your all-encompassing essence.

◈ Detection Pulse of Serenity Lv1 – You possess the power to scatter your all-soothing essence.

◈ Madness Bolt Lv1 – You possess the power to launch a bolt filled with madness.

➤ 『END OF THE WELL』

"I really need a resonance catalyst to level up my priest class, huh," Kivas sighed.

"It is a miracle that the class still levels up to begin with," Samael quipped. "What did you do?"

"In all of the fights I’m in, I greatly prayed to whatever available gods, deities, myths, and godly figures that I remembered back in my time on Earth," Kivas said nonchalantly. "Things like, ’Please let me kill this devilish spawn faster!’ and then ’With the power of—insert a godly figure—by my side, you shall cease to exist this very instant!" kind of prayers."

Speaking of divinity, both Kivas and Samael were also starting to prepare for a very important event on the first day of Kivas’ arrival in Fathomi.

And they spare no time enacting it.

"Will praying work in this case?"

"Unfortunately, praying won’t change anything."

"I’ll pray regardless, deep in my heart."

The light of the sun slanted westward through the thinning canopy, scattering long amber shadows across the uneven forest floor.

The warmth of afternoon was beginning to dip toward the faint coolness of dusk.

In the soft glow, Kivas sat still on the dirt, half-naked, sweat slicking her back and collarbones, her breaths uneven. Her wings folded uselessly behind her, twitching faintly, and her halo flickered in a pulsing rhythm above her head—an ornament of divine rhythm slowly matching the cadence of a rising tension within her soul.

She gripped her knees tightly, fingers trembling against the skin.

Her eyes flicked left and right, then up at the trees, as if trying to measure time by how light moved between the leaves.

The sensation crawling under her skin wasn’t unfamiliar. It was returning. It was almost exactly the same as the first cycle.

This time, however, it came with an awareness that made it worse.

Samael stood behind her, eyes narrowed, blade drawn.

The hilt of Royal Valor gleamed faintly beneath her fingers, the sheath hovering behind her like a docile wraith made of mirrored crystal.

Samael had already soul-equipped the weapon, switching from Kivas to herself not long ago when the first signs of divine instability in Kivas’ soul began to stir.

Her expression remained stoic, but the tension in her stance said she was more than ready.

"You’re not ready," Samael said calmly, her voice softened but clear.

Kivas shook her head. "I’m not."

"You don’t have to be," Samael answered. "It’ll happen regardless. That’s what makes Apotheosis terrifying."

"I’m afraid of the pain, not necessarily the fact that I will turn into an eldritch horror if we don’t sever these divine organs..."

Three Limbo Tier Divine Constructs stood silently around them. Two more kept watch at the perimeter, shielding the area from intrusion.

One of the Constructs closest to Kivas spoke up, voice tempered with artificial reassurance.

"The process will likely be painful," it began, "but simulations estimate that it will be no more intense than the severing of a major limb—"

"That will be hella painful!" Kivas barked, chest rising sharply. Her eyes widened as she turned, glaring with exasperated horror.

The construct continued unbothered. "—and thus, during the operation, while Samael, our Divine Hive, handles the severance with precision, we will simultaneously perform psychic nerve suppression using our Hemo Psyche."

Before Kivas could talk back, Samael raised the Royal Valor. The blade appeared to be emitting extreme heat.

Her grip was effortless, the blade already humming with focused heat.

Kivas’ eyes caught the sudden glint, her eyes barely wide enough to catch the silver arc of the incoming strike.

The blade came down.

A flash of gold and crimson carved through the base of the wings—directly at the joints embedded into Kivas’ back, where divine essence knotted into muscle and bone.

A searing hiss followed the blade’s passage, and a line of cauterized flesh split open, shutting the raw from ever leaking blood. The wings crumpled backward and fell with a dead weight, smoking slightly.

Kivas screamed. Her back arched. Her fingers clawed into the dirt. Her halo flared erratically.

"That—hurts—way more than it should!" she shouted, voice ragged with strain.

"We have not yet begun the nerve severance procedure," the nearest Construct said. "Hence the pain!"

"Then why didn’t you do that first!"

"It takes too long," Samael added calmly. "Better to finish the pain fast than prolong it."

"Urgh! An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure!"

Kivas groaned, her body slumping forward, teeth clenched. Her shoulders trembled under the aftermath. Her breath came sharp through her nose.

Samael stepped closer, kneeling beside her. "Is it wrong," she asked, almost gently, "that I feel something... stirring, watching you like this?"

Kivas didn’t lift her head. Her mouth trembled. "You mean guilt?"

"No," Samael answered. Her voice dipped lower. "I feel... good."

Kivas snapped her face upward, eyes wide. "What is wrong with you!?"

Samael blinked, then considered. "You’re right. Imagine if someone else did this to you—stripped you of your wings, made you cry and scream like this."

"Exactly!" Kivas spat, sweat dripping from her chin.

"I would torture them slowly," Samael said darkly. Her pupils sharpened. "Peel them alive. Burn their existence. Rebuild them just to break them again."

Kivas groaned and forced a smile through the pain. "Good. That’s the correct reaction when I’m hurt."

"I should be the only one allowed to do this to you," Samael continued, casually nodding as if she had just a happy realization.

"Wrong!" Kivas snapped. "That is absolutely the wrong takeaway!"

"You can try to do the same to me too, if you want."

"Since when did this sadomasochism of yours start!?"

Her body trembled again, but the worst of it was fading.

Slowly, the spike of agony dulled into a consistent ache. Kivas drew in a steadying breath and channeled her own Hemo Psyche inward.

The warmth of self-regeneration began crawling up her spine, stitching nerve endings, sealing gaps, reconstructing internal tissues where divine essence had fused into flesh.

"Will they grow back?" Kivas asked quietly, still facing the ground.

Samael studied her back. "Maybe. I’ve never let a Fateling live long enough to find out."

"That’s encouraging," Kivas muttered.

Her halo flickered above her head, casting faint motes of golden light over the grass. She tilted her head slightly, catching the edge of the glow in her periphery. "Do I need to get rid of this too?"

Samael leaned forward, narrowing her eyes at the halo. She waved a hand toward the Constructs, two of whom stepped in closer and examined it.

"No divine surge," one of them said.

"No active fluctuation," added another. "The removal of the wings has halted the Apotheosis trigger completely."

"So this free light source stays?" Kivas asked. "Won’t I get easily identified still? If possible, I really don’t want the weight and association that comes from being a Fateling..."

There might be a good factor of having oneself proclaimed as a rare, and additionally, noble being.

But she remembered that a Fateling-hating entity like the Endless Dragon existed, which was Samael, now turned into a Fateling-lover.

If there was already one of them, wouldn’t there be more scattered around Fathomi?

Samael shrugged, standing upright again. "A halo doesn’t define a Fateling. Skills can generate one. Some potions. Some items. You can get one from encountering a certain event or anomaly, and many more absurdities."

One of the constructs raised its finger. "Fateling identification relies on a unique divine signature within the soul. Wings and halo are merely aesthetic markers."

"No wonder the Karasu Association saw through me so fast last time," Kivas murmured. "Even if I looked normal, my soul didn’t."

Samael smiled faintly. "The bright side is that your soul’s divine signature is even more scrambled now—wounded, unstable, half-interrupted by the Apotheosis of the last cycle, combined with the severing of the wings. All of them adds up. They won’t read you the same way this time."

"I see."

Kivas leaned back on her arms, wincing slightly but keeping her eyes on the horizon.

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