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Once upon a ti, Fathomi was quiet, idle, and empty.

But as ti went on, it was filled with more things. New elents, new rules of physics, until a mont where it beca whole.

Life breathed and conscience were implented. It was unknown to many of its inhabitants, but Fathomi was an unrelenting force that was always seeking for a chane, a force that condemns stillness into the void.

A place where skies drifted in endless hues and gravity bent softly through dreams.

It was still a world where entropy had not yet taken root, and harmony curled through every fold of terrain like a sigh through silk.

The creatures of Fathomi breathed peace, not air. They grew without conflict, without contest. Ecosystems didn’t compete, they collaborated. Cycles turned not by decay, but by transformation and evolution since there was no decay in living entities.

For a while, this was enough.

Fathom however, kept on churning its gear.

Left undisturbed for too long, curdles into stillness. And stillness, when overstayed, becos boredom.

Fathomi was tired of this, and it wanted to feel sothing else.

It had only been creating and adding things on top of aspects that it had implented before.

And thus, it introduced entropy into itself.

It introduced typhoons where there was once only soothing rain. Quakes where there had been only rich soil. Winds that didn’t caress, but flung and harass. Tides that didn’t cleanse, but devoured.

The forests snapped under pressure. The oceans rose against their own walls. Mountains scread in pain until it bled a river.

Calamity beca Fathomi’s form of art.

And as centuries passed, that chaos collected. Every broken rhythm, every disrupted heartbeat, every wound that didn’t heal right was stored away, compacted into nothingness. Buried in the folds of itself.

But entropy doesn’t like to be forgotten.

Eventually, it crawled out of the silent wells it had been buried in.

Born not from hate but from accumulated aimlessness.

It nad itself in silence.

Nihil.

A being ford not by mistake, but by too many questions left unanswered. Born without aning and goal, but a mindless destruction to turn everything into nothingness.

"That one we saw near the ruined fortress," Samael pointed out after telling this tell-a-tall, adjusting her regenerating dress that she wore like its own scales. "It was one of the Nihils."

The fairy tale’s dreamy haze evaporated into the brutal heat of the sun-soaked path they continued along.

Kivas blinked, one foot resting on a root that looked like ribcage segnts. "And here I thought that Voidling was enough of a danger and chaos in this world."

"I doubt that Voidling is the main cause of chaos in this world."

Azulus brushed her surroundings, one hand still holding her oversized katana. "We’re lucky it didn’t notice us. They might be the manifestations of calamity itself, but they are mindless and oriented without a goal."

Kivas turned to them both, frowning. "Okay, but what makes it so dangerous? I an... it’s the two of you. I’m a youngling in this world, so I see the two of you like my parental figure in a way, and a baby duckling just can’t fathom their big duckling get beaten by an even bigger duckling."

"What with the duckling..." Azulus paused in confusion. "Also, I’m not your mother."

"It’s an analogy."

Samael kept on walking, waiting for the other two to keep up. "Nihil aren’t like Big Voidlings as you expected it to be. They aren’t even aligned with entropy. They are entropy."

Azulus picked up from there. "Defeating a Nihil nets you nothing. No useful drop, no such thing as loot. Not even a lingering Nightmare. Their existence is pure destruction with no cycle attached."

"They unexist, in a way," Samael said, matter-of-fact. "You destroy them, and you’ve rely taken them off the board temporarily. As ti passess, they’ll just recover and reappear sowhere with the sa appearance."

Kivas grimaced. "To think that there is an even bigger duckling than the Endless Dragon and Karasu’s Executioner..."

"I never admitted to being a Karasu’s Executioner," Azulus retorted.

"It is already too obvious, just accept it."

"I can try making her admit if you want."

"You two scared ..."

The air grew noisier with their words, but the path ahead remained clear.

For hours, the land stretched quiet. No Voidlings. No spectral threats. The Nihil’s aura had seemingly cleansed the area of all aggression.

Eventually, they reached a forested region—bone-pale trees, their bark calcified and their branches stretched like brittle fingers toward an opaque sky. Moss blood in faded purples, and fungi glowed where the sun didn’t reach. The ground crackled like ceramic with each step.

"Is this still Fathomi?" Kivas asked.

"Yes, we’re still within the territory of Vaingall," Samael answered. "As far as I rembered."

"Vaingall’s lands had probably been so scattered and fragnted that it can’t no longer be called Vaingall anymore," Azulus playfully chid in. "Unless the Endless Dragon does sothing about it."

"How about I paint the ground with your—"

"Woah woah, that’s too graphic. Think about the children!"

After a while, they set up a short rest near a fallen tree whose interior had crystallized from the inside, forming a natural bench.

Kivas took the opportunity to kneel down and rest her hands against the ground.

"I’m gonna try sothing," she said, more to herself than anyone else.

She stretched her soul slowly outward. Not into the world, but inward—twisting tendrils of psyche into the air like invisible roots.

They swirled gently, interlaced and reactive.

Last ti, she had ford a detection pulse. Inefficient, chaotic, but it worked. And it gave her a new skill.

Maybe she could try the sa theory and thod to invent an entirely new skill fueled by Fate Weaver.

She drew from her Hemo Psyche first—letting it coil through her limbs like heat in blood. Then her Mana Psyche, letting it hover beyond her skin like mist. Then she let them dance, trying to mimic the loop she created before, where they fueled each other in a cycle.

As she focused, soone’s presence slipped into the edge of her senses.

Samael crouched beside her, watching quietly.

"Getting better at manipulating your spiritual resources?" she asked.

"You should have known," Kivas said with a sly smile. "You were watching fight the Dream Devourer, weren’t you?"

Samael raised an eyebrow. "Of course I did. You scread a lot. And used way too much energy for a detection trick."

Kivas acted as if she was devastated. "I got a new skill, though. That’s worth it, right?"

"Inefficient," Samael said, poking at Kivas’ cheek. "You used both Hemo and Mana Psyche to power a single effect. That made your signature giant and fuzzy because it used the characteristics of both psyche...

"You masked your presence, sure, but the cost of broadcasting your existence to literally everything, is not an efficient thod to do it. To put it simply, this skill is horrible, especially since you’re low levelled and have a low reservoir of Hemo and Mana Psyche."

Kivas nodded in agreent. "I’m an obvious genius that makes terrible engineering choices. That doesn’t change the fact that it is creative!"

"You built sothing unique. That alone is rare," Samael admitted. "I’ve never seen a skill exactly like that before, or rembered others I’ve t used this specific skill."

Kivas smirked. "So I’m a genius!"

"You’re a genius at being inefficient in a way no one else considers," Samael corrected. "No one has the sa skill because no one is as inefficient despite having the sa tool provided."

Kivas’ smirk deflated. "Surely, one of the Fateling you brutally murdered did the sa thing as ..."

"Still," Samael added, "You have the blueprint now. You understand how to birth skills. You’re halfway there."

Kivas furrowed her brow. "So what should I do now? Use the sa bad thod?"

"Use the theory. Not the execution," Samael said. "You used both Psyches together because you wanted the pulse to interact with everything. Yourself, the world, the target." She drew a small circle in the dirt with her finger. "But Hemo Psyche affects living beings...

"Yourself, others, anything with soul. Mana Psyche affects the world. Objects, space, influence." She bisected the circle, drawing an arrow for each. "Separate them. Use each for its intended vector. Don’t overlap unless you’re intentionally creating hybrid phenona for a very specific result."

Kivas stared at the diagram, then blinked. "That makes sense."

"Of course it does. I taught you this back then."

"Just because I rembered every single thing, doesn’t an that I can perfectly choose the perfect and most efficient action."

Samael stood and dusted her palms, chuckling at the verbal shenanigan of her adorable, wingless Fateling. "Try using the sa skill, but this ti, carefully plan both Hemo Psyche and Mana Psyche separately and use the appropriate amount for each of their purposes."

Kivas exhaled, turned her attention back to the threads she had extended.

She watched them swirl, split, coil.

This ti, she guided her Mana Psyche outward—projected like a ripple of feeling that touched only the terrain.

Then she drew her Hemo Psyche inward. Not to power herself, but to pri her sensitivity. To feel what her pulse felt, and any detectable pulse in the vicinity.

A two-part skill, simultaneously conducted as the spiritual tendrils began to weave.

Her fingers twitched. The soul tendrils began folding back on themselves in an elegant shape—not a loop, but straight to the spiral. Narrow at the core, wide at the edges. A cone of influence that was indefinitely controlled directly.

And then she let her Fate Weaver skill loose to ensure the process ran smoothly.

"I think..." she whispered, "I get it now."

A ping returned through the pulse. A birdlike creature, sleeping beneath the hollow roots of a tree, small and Void-touched, but not hostile. Another signal, deeper—an underground tunnel, collapsed long ago, but still echoing with so form of curse residue.

This ti, she no longer lingered her presence everywhere, because there was no excess essence of herself being wasted and scattered everywhere.

It was the opposite actually. Those that felt her sincere and clear, energy touch felt calm. Yet they weren’t alerted to whoever divine touch that interacted with their soul.

『Skill Gained: ◈ Detection Pulse of Serenity Lv1 – You possess the power to scatter your all-soothing essence』

You are reading My Wives Are A Divine Hive Mind Chapter 49: The Tale Of Nihil on novel69. Use the chapter navigation above or below to continue reading the latest translated chapters.
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