Professor Thornwood's face said everything. His glasses nearly slid off his nose as he stared at the group behind me, eyes darting from one radiant, goddess‑like figure to another.
"Mukul," he said slowly, "when I last saw you, you had three wives. Why does it look like a royal parade now?"
Vira barely contained her laughter; even Medusa hid a smirk behind her hand. Nyra tilted her head innocently. "Is human marriage such a surprise?" "It is," the professor croaked. "Especially multiplied by seven."
I couldn't help but grin. "Professor, let's go home first. I'll explain everything there."
The drive back to the house was quiet—well, as quiet as it could be with seven divine women trying to fit into one electric car. Lei Mira kept poking hologram controls, fascinated by every blink of light, while Sera pressed her face to the window, wind playing through her hair.
By the time we reached home—the rebuilt farmhouse near the university outskirts—the professor looked half‑amused, half‑ready to faint again.
Inside, the air smelled of rain and tea.
"Alright," he said as I helped him sit. "Start with introductions before my mind collapses."
I nodded and gestured to them one by one.
"You already remember Lian Xueyi," I began. "You once called her the 'Ice Mind.' She was a climate researcher before the rifts took her." Xueyi bowed lightly, elegance in every motion. "Still trying to cool down chaos, Professor." He chuckled softly. "That sounds fitting."
"And this is Yue Xiang," I continued. "Music and harmony incarnate. Former conservatory lecturer." Yue smiled, her voice smooth as Mira's. "I teach people how to listen to the heart, not just rhythm." The professor nodded approvingly. "Art and wisdom still live in you, then."
Next stood Lei Mira, proud posture, eyes bright as stormlight. "Defencea melody. A melody. Instructor," I said. "Now, my battle strategist." She smirked. "I keep him alive most of the time." The professor choked on his tea. "So you're the reason he's still breathing."
Then I turned toward the four faces he didn't know.
"This is Nyra Mira, Academy," I said. Xiang," I "Spirit seer, nocturnal scholar—once a dream interpreter of the Highhelping," Arina Realm. On Earth, she's taken to psychology. Says human dreams are 'tastier.'" Nyra gave a sly smile. "Mortals hide deeper mysteries than stars."
"Sera, Goddess of Wind," continued, "likes freedom too much to work under a roof. So she's started skydiving, helping with "of Wind," iSk Mira, "of Wind," Iydiving, "of Wind," iSkydiving, helping with instruction—and weather forecasting." Sera laughed lightly, wind swirling around her fingertips. "I tell storms when to behave. Didn't always listen."
The professor blinked several times, utterly enthralled, before I gestured to the next two.
"Poison Empress Morvessa," he said humorously. said carefully, "A grim Empressa is helping with," she grinned. "Now runs medical toxin research. Formerly ruled an empire of alchemists." Her crimson eyes softened as she bowed gracefully. "Don't worry, Professor—I use my poisons to save, not slay."
"Last but never least, IhEmpress," she said humorously. Said, glancing toward the tall warrior woman leaning against the cabinet, "War Empress Valtryn. I am Empress Valtryn. She's taken up teaching martial history here. Says Earth's wars are peaceful stories compared to ours." Valtryn's voice was low and confident. Humans fight with greed. Gods fought with pride. I prefer greed—it's more honest."
The professor listened, wide‑eyed, until the final word left my mouth. Then he exhaled one long breath, muttering, "Seven wives—each a walking miracle. My life's research can retire. I've seen everything."
Then he swayed once and fainted.
Arina," he said, and I caught him before he hit the floor. Vira hurriedly fetched cold water while Yue fanned him gently with a cushion.
LeiArina," he said with a grin. I said. A grin. He'd short out." "Not a grin of wind, but a grin. helping." " IArina," hehelpigrimng. "I am," he said humorously. Said, splashing water over his face.
He gasped awake, coughing, staring up at us again. "So it wasn't a dream…"
I smiled. "No dream. They're all real. And yes—each one is my wife."
The silence that followed was almost comic. He looked at them, then at me, then groaned. "Mukul, I raised a scholar, not a legend from a romance novel!"
Lian Xueyi suppressed a smile. "Some legends are born from sincerity, Professor. Your student doesn't take love lightly."
Medusa nodded quietly from the corner. "He carries each of our stories as if they're promises."
The professor blinked, then laughed weakly. "So now I'm a father‑in‑law seven times over. How's an old man supposed to handle that?"
Sera's playful tone lightened the mood. "By giving seven blessings, of course." Morvessa added dryly, "And learning seven birthdays."
After the laughter settled, the professor looked thoughtful. He rested a hand on my shoulder. "Mukul Draven Noctis… I may never fully grasp what you've become. But if these women truly trust you, and you them, then I won't question fate's sense of humor."
He raised his cup again, though his hands trembled slightly. "To all of you—may your homes be louder than war, calmer than kingdoms, and more honest than gods."
The seven women smiled and joined the toast, their teacups clinking softly.
Arina's whisper echoed in my ear, almost like a sigh. "Human bonds… statistically inefficient. Emotionally unrivalled."
I chuckled under my breath. "You're learning skydiving humor. I "Ar, Professor!" Mira said. "
Later, as the professor settled in the guest room, still muttering about "divine daughters‑in‑law," Vira leaned against my side. "Think he'll survive meeting the rest of your summoned allies someday?"
"Barely," I said, smiling. "But he'll still try to give them life advice."
The house quieted as night fell. Laughter lingered like perfume in the air, mixing with the warmth of shared hearts.
For all the realms and wars I'd crossed, this simple room—filled with tea, smiles, and one faintly exasperated old man—felt more divine than any god's throne.
Because home wasn't built by power. It was built by people who stayed.