My Wives Are A Divine Hive Mind

The curved edge of the training plateau faced the windswept cliffs of Vaingall, where shrine-engraved stone met open sky.

Here, in the heart of nothingness and clarity, Kivas trained alone. Her hands wrapped around the hilt of a sword too dense for normal understanding, her breath in quiet rhythm.

The blade, jet black and unadorned, bent the light around it as if gravity itself were anxious in its presence.

Weightaton Sword, that was what Kivas called it when Samael revealed that it had no initial name. Exotic-tier, it was one of the Curio Items that was retrieved by one of Samael’s Divine Constructs during a Curio hunt.

Its only trait, according to the appraisal readout, was mass.

This sword was just extremely heavy, and when injected with more Mana Psyche, it would become even heavier temporarily.

This sword weighs somewhere between 1,500 kilograms or 3,300 pounds. Even in her current state—divine, altered, enhanced—it pressed against her joints like it was testing her worth.

She preferred this kind of training in solitude. It cleared the noise from her mind, untangled her thoughts.

Samael stood far off in the distance, maybe a hundred meters away, arms folded, wings furled, clearly unwilling to leave entirely.

Her concern wafted across the plateau like another form of wind.

Kivas could feel the intensity from time to time, as if Samael began thinking something that would make herself mad over trivial things.