The More I Invest in My Wives, the Stronger I Become

Victoria’s phone vibrated the moment she landed near the market district.

A single emergency message flashed across the screen.

Dungeon Gate unstable. Monster outbreak in progress. Market area. Civilian casualties expected.

Her eyes narrowed.

The gate had failed to contain the pressure inside. Monsters were already spilling into one of the most crowded parts of Ashford City.

Medical teams and WHA staff were already deploying. Her elite team had arrived first.

Victoria’s blood wings folded behind her as she stepped onto the rooftop overlooking the chaos. Below, screams mixed with the clash of steel and the guttural roars of goblins.

She didn’t waste another second.

Sana Whitlock moved like a shadow between the market stalls.

Three goblins had cornered a group of civilians behind a fruit cart. One of them raised a crude axe toward a young woman shielding her child.

Sana’s daggers left their sheaths without a sound.

She appeared behind the first goblin in a blur.

The blade slid cleanly between its ribs, piercing the heart before the creature even registered her presence. She twisted, yanked the dagger free, and spun low.

The second goblin swung wildly. Sana ducked under the clumsy arc, her second dagger flashing upward in a reverse grip. The edge opened its throat in one smooth motion. Black blood sprayed across the cobblestones.

The third goblin turned, snarling.

Sana didn’t give it time to breathe. She closed the distance in two steps, planted a boot on its knee, and drove both daggers into the base of its skull from above. The body dropped instantly.

She wiped the blades on its rough hide and scanned the area.

No more immediate threats near the civilians.

”Move to the evacuation line,” she ordered the trembling group. Her voice was calm, almost bored. ”Now.”

They ran.

Sana was already gone, hunting the next cluster of goblins with the same silent precision that had earned her a place on Victoria’s team despite never awakening a bloodline.

Near the supermarket entrance, Bastian Cole stood like a living wall.

Four larger goblins — each nearly two meters tall and armed with heavy iron clubs — charged him at once.

Bastian’s eyes remained cold.

His bloodline stirred.

The ground beneath his feet cracked. Rock surged upward, wrapping around his arms and torso in overlapping plates of dense stone. In less than a second he looked more like a walking fortress than a man.

The first goblin’s club smashed into his shoulder. The impact rang like metal on stone. The club shattered. The goblin stumbled back, staring at its broken weapon in confusion.

Bastian stepped forward and drove a stone-covered fist into its chest. The force lifted the creature clean off its feet and slammed it through a parked car. The vehicle crumpled around its body.

The remaining three attacked together.

Bastian raised both arms. Rock erupted from the street, forming a thick barrier that absorbed the next wave of blows. Then the barrier shifted, reshaping into long stone spikes that shot outward.

One goblin was impaled through the stomach. Another took a spike through the thigh and collapsed screaming. The last one tried to flee.

Bastian closed his fist.

The ground under the goblin’s feet turned into a rising pillar of rock that launched it high into the air. When it came down, Bastian was already waiting. A single downward punch ended it.

He exhaled once, the stone armor cracking and falling away in pieces.

”Clear,” he muttered, already scanning for the next threat.

Three blocks away, Elira Vance stood in the middle of a ruined restaurant street.

A large group of goblins had trapped several elders and children inside a family restaurant.

The front windows were shattered. Parents pressed their bodies against the broken glass, trying to shield the younger ones.

Elira’s expression never changed.

She raised one hand.

Wind howled.

A precise gale slammed into the goblins nearest the door, hurling them backward across the street. Before they could recover, ice formed beneath their feet, locking their legs in place.

Elira’s second hand glowed with fire.

A thin, controlled stream of flame shot forward, weaving between the frozen goblins and igniting only the ones still free. The fire never touched the restaurant. It never touched the civilians. It burned with surgical accuracy.

One goblin broke free and charged her.

Water erupted from the air itself, forming a pressurized lance that punched straight through its chest and pinned it to a wall.

The remaining goblins tried to scatter.

Elira’s fingers moved once more.

Ice spears formed above them and dropped like a silent rain. Each one found a target. Within ten seconds the street was silent except for the crackling of dying flames and the soft sobbing of relieved children.

Elira lowered her hands.

”Evacuation path is clear,” she said into her earpiece. Her voice was as calm as if she had just finished reading a report.

At the center of the outbreak, Kael Draven faced six Goblin Brutes alone.

These were not ordinary monsters. Each stood over two and a half meters tall, muscles thick with dense mana, carrying massive axes and spiked clubs.

Kael’s sword remained sheathed.

His eyes were half-closed.

Pulse Sense spread outward in an invisible wave. He felt every heartbeat, every shift of weight, every breath the brutes took. He saw the angle of their shoulders before they moved.

He knew which one would attack first, second, and third.

The first brute charged.

Kael stepped half a meter to the left. The axe passed through empty air. His hand rested lightly on his sword hilt.

Still not drawn.

The second and third came together. Kael moved between them like water flowing around stones. A club smashed into the ground where he had stood a fraction of a second earlier.

Debris exploded upward. Kael was already behind the fourth brute.

Only then did the sword leave its sheath.

The sound was soft. Almost gentle.

One horizontal cut.

The fourth brute’s head separated cleanly from its shoulders. Black blood sprayed in a wide arc.

The remaining five roared and attacked as one.

Kael’s blade danced.

He never swung with full power. Every movement was minimal, precise, and lethal. One cut severed a tendon. Another opened an artery. A third sliced through the handle of an axe mid-swing, leaving the brute holding only a broken stick.

He was playing with them.

Then the last two brutes tried a different approach. One feinted high while the other circled low, aiming for his legs.

Kael’s eyes sharpened.

Before he could finish them, a wave of pure crimson pressure crashed across the battlefield.

Victoria had arrived.

She landed in the middle of the street without a sound.

Crimson energy already swirled around her like living liquid.

The two remaining brutes turned toward the new threat. They never got the chance to move.

Victoria raised one hand.

A transparent barrier of condensed blood energy expanded outward in a perfect dome, sealing the street and forcing the last fleeing civilians behind its safety. The barrier pulsed once, then solidified. No monster could pass through it.

Her other hand opened.

Hundreds of blood spears formed in the air above the remaining goblins that had escaped the gate. They hung there for a single heartbeat, glowing like crimson stars against the afternoon sky.

Then they fell.

The spears struck with surgical precision. Every goblin still standing outside the gate was pierced through the heart, throat, or skull in the same instant. Bodies dropped in perfect silence. Not a single spear missed. Not a single civilian was touched.

The entire street froze.

Even Kael paused, sword still raised.

Sana, Bastian, and Elira stopped mid-step.

For a moment the only sound was the soft drip of blood from the floating spears as they dissolved back into pure energy.

Victoria’s voice cut through the silence, calm and absolute.

”Outside is clear. We enter the gate now.”

Bastian was the first to speak. His usual stoic expression held something close to awe.

”As usual... you outnumber everyone with your power. That was amazing, Victoria.”

Sana smiled faintly. ”Now we have to go in.”

Kael finally sheathed his sword. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes lingered on Victoria a second longer than necessary.

The five of them walked toward the unstable gate together.

Behind them, WHA staff scrambled to set up barricades and restriction signs. Civilians who had been evacuated watched from a safe distance. Some clapped. Some cried with relief.

Media drones hovered high above, recording every second of the elite team’s arrival and Victoria’s display of power.

The Crimson Queen had once again reminded the city why her name carried weight.

They stepped through the gate.

The A-Rank dungeon swallowed them whole.

Across the city, in the quiet training hall of the Hale estate, Lucien finished speaking.

”She’s contracted to Apex Guild. One of the strongest private guilds in the region. Leaving isn’t simple. Either something happened that forced her to stay... or she’s choosing to stay. If she’s alive, she’s still there.”

Daemon sat in silence for a long time.

Everything he thought he knew about Kassia was crumbling.

They had struggled together for years. Instant noodles. Shared rent. Dreams of a normal life.

When she got the job at Apex, he had been happy for her. They planned to celebrate. Then she ended everything without explanation.

He never knew she was an Awakener.

He never knew she carried a rare S-Rank bloodline — possibly an ancient one that even the Association couldn’t fully identify.

I thought I knew everything about her.

In reality... I knew nothing.

Lucien watched him carefully.

”You’re not living in the past anymore,” he said. ”If you want answers, or if she’s in trouble, the only way is to face her directly. Be confident.

Take real action instead of just wondering.”

Daemon looked up.

The determination that had been growing for weeks finally settled into something solid.

”You’re right. I’m done thinking about the past. I want answers from her. Directly.”

He pulled the thin silver ring from his finger — the proposal ring he had given Kassia years ago. She had never taken it off until the day she left.

”This belonged to her. Strong emotional bond. Will it work?”

Lucien’s eyes lit up. He took the ring carefully and slid it onto his own finger.

Astral Resonance stirred.

A faint silver light began to gather around the ring, pulsing in rhythm with something distant.

Lucien’s expression shifted from curiosity to sharp focus.

”I can feel her,” he said quietly.

The light grew brighter.

Then the training hall fell silent as the connection locked into place.