Demonic Dragon: Harem System

Strax slowly raised his head, his nostrils flaring as the scent of burning wood and thick smoke filled the clearing where they stood. His reptilian eyes glowed, reflecting a flame that hadn't yet appeared before them, but was growing on the horizon. The distant roar of panicked people pierced the trees, muffled by the rustling wind, but clear enough for none of them to ignore.

Samira stepped forward uneasily, her fingers drumming on the handle of the spear she never let go of. "This isn't a natural fire. Not with this smell." Her voice trembled between caution and a killer instinct.

Kali, who had been resting against a root, slowly rose, her golden eyes fixed on the gray sky. "I agree. Someone caused this. The smoke has traces of oil and tar." She narrowed her eyes, as if she could see across the distance. "It's a fire made to consume quickly."

Frieren approached Strax, her expression more grim than ever. "This continent has its own forms of war. If someone is burning down a city, it's not just vandalism. It's a declaration."

The silence that followed was broken by Cassandra, who seemed irritated, but not by the smoke. "What now? Are we going to pretend we didn't see anything?" She looked directly at Strax, as if provoking him. "It's not like you to ignore problems."

Strax, however, remained still. Only the thump of his tail against the ground betrayed that he was reflecting. Finally, his voice echoed, deep and calm, as if each word carried the weight of a judgment.

"This isn't our war. We didn't come all this way to play heroes in cities we don't even know the name of."

"Maybe it's not our war... yet," Bellatrix retorted, crossing her arms. "But if there's fire like this near where we are, it means we're being called. Someone will come for us, sooner or later." Strax looked at her, then at Scarlet, who watched him silently. She hadn't said a word since mentioning Danthelion and the Divine Tournament, but there was something in her eyes—something that bothered him. As if she already knew more than she cared to reveal.

An animal's roar cut through the air, coming from the direction of the city. A metallic, bestial sound, accompanied by human screams. And then, hurried footsteps. Rapid, desperate.

From between the trees emerged a thin boy, his clothes singed, his eyes wide with terror. He nearly tripped on a root, but regained his balance and advanced, panting, until he fell to his knees before the group.

"The... the dragon!" He pointed at Strax, unable to contain his terror. "Is that... you? Are you the dragon who descended here?"

The women glanced at each other, some surprised, others amused. Monica was the first to laugh, crossing her arms. "See?" Even the children are already chasing you, Strax.

But the boy didn't seem amused. He knelt, banging his head on the ground as if that would be enough to stave off death.

"Master Hadrian... he... he asked for help. The city is burning! The Crimson Hand's men are looting everything! Please!" Tears streamed down his ash-stained face. "He said he'd pay whatever it took, but... we need an escort. If no one helps us, we'll all die!"

Strax slowly lowered himself, bringing his colossal dragon face down to the boy's level. His gold and charcoal eyes fixed on him, making the boy shrink even further.

"Who is Hadrian?" Strax asked, his voice reverberating like distant thunder.

"A... a merchant. The only one who refuses to pay what they call protection money." The boy gasped for breath. "He has a caravan ready to leave, but he can't cross alone." The men of the Scarlet Hand want your cargo... and your life.

Scarlet finally spoke, her voice cutting through the air like a cold blade. "Hadrian Varrow." She stared at Strax with something close to surprise. "I heard of his family when I came here a few hundred years ago... A family of merchants, as far as I remember."

Strax snorted, exhaling hot smoke that made the boy tremble even more. "He's trying to buy protection. Maybe he thinks he can use us like he uses cheap mercenaries."

The boy looked up in despair. "He's not like that! I swear!" His voice broke. "He said you were our last chance the moment he heard about a Dragon nearby! He respects your race too much!"

Samira, impatient, twirled her spear in her fingers. "Strax, if you won't go, I will." Her gaze burned. "I can't stand people who use fire to destroy the weak."

Beatrice rested her chin on her palm, thoughtful. "Besides, if we're going to create a kingdom here, as you said, it's time we showed we're not just spectators. Those who reign, protect."

There was a heavy silence. The wind brought more smoke, thick, redolent of burnt oil, making Cassandra cough and raise her arm to her face to fan the suffocating air.

Strax straightened, his flaming eyes fixed on the burning horizon. His voice was deep, like the creaking of ancient stones.

"A merchant, a city without walls, and a band of thieves disguised as soldiers…" He growled softly, almost to himself. "This continent reeks of weakness. Only fools believe that burning down a home is a tactic of conquest. That's the work of jackals, not warriors."

He turned slowly to the group and saw in their eyes what he'd expected: there was no hesitation, only the desire to intervene. The dragon sighed, a cold smile crossing his face.

"Ah... all right," he murmured.

Then his body began to change. The scales retracted like dying embers, the bones cracked, and the wings disappeared in fiery smoke. In a few moments, the colossal form gave way to the figure of a man. Horns protruded from his head like crowns of black iron, and his hair, long and wild, flowed in shades of deep black with reddish tips like fire about to consume itself.

The dark kimono molded to his body, and on the back, embroidered in gold, a pair of dragons intertwined in eternal struggle. Each line seemed to pulse with living energy, as if the embroidered dragons themselves breathed.

Strax looked up at the boy, who was already trembling even before he heard his voice. The silence of the clearing was broken by a single, cold, inescapable sentence:

"Lead the way."

When the human-dragon's eyes met the boy's, the boy instinctively took a step back. It was as if he were facing something that shouldn't be looked at head-on.