Demonic Dragon: Harem System

Strax didn't answer immediately. His eyes were fixed on Hadrian, scrutinizing him like a predator assessing prey unlike any other. There was no strength in the merchant, but there was something that set him apart—an uncommon stubbornness, a courage unbecoming of ordinary men.

The boy who had led them fell to his knees before Hadrian, pointing behind him, breathless and speechless. Hadrian followed suit, and when he saw Strax and Samira emerging from the smoke, his face tightened. First in astonishment, then in recognition.

He swallowed hard. "So... it's true."

The leader of the Scarlet Hand turned his head, staring at the pair. There was something about him, however, that wasn't just bravado—his yellow eyes flashed with an instinct telling him to retreat. But he tried to keep his steel mask on.

"Who are you to meddle here?" He raised the curved blade, pointing it at Strax. "This isn't a problem for strangers."

Samira laughed, her laughter reverberating like the crackle of dry wood in the flames. "Aren't you the ones who burn an entire city to steal?" She licked her lips provocatively. "If you don't want strangers to show up, you should learn to play quietly."

The mercenaries behind the leader snickered, but there was hesitation. The air was heavy, suffocating. Not just from the fire—it was their presence.

Strax finally advanced, each step a muffled thunder against the ash-covered stones. His golden gaze pierced the leader's mask like a spear.

"You call this conquest?" His voice was low, but it echoed throughout the square. "This isn't war. This is just... rat cowardice."

The leader tried to respond, but the sound that came out was almost a growl. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, as if a beast were surrounding him.

Samira glided beside Strax, her red kimono rippling as if made of living fire. "Honey, may I begin?" she asked with false innocence, her crimson eyes shining with anticipation.

Strax didn't look away from the leader. He merely raised his hand slightly in a gesture of permission.

Samira advanced like a firestorm. In an instant, the spear she carried materialized in her hand, pulsing as if forged in magma. She twirled the weapon in the air, and the heat made the mercenaries flinch instinctively.

"Time to see if you can dance," she said, and in a single motion, she drove the spear into the ground.

The impact opened a fiery fissure that spread in flaming lines across the square. Some mercenaries stumbled, others screamed as their boots heated like red-hot iron.

"Kill them!" the leader roared, more out of fear than courage.

Strax sighed, as if bored. Then, slowly, he turned to Hadrian.

"You said this city would not fall." His eyes glinted, and there was a hint of judgment in his voice. "So tell me, merchant... will you retreat and let rats devour your home, or will you resist until they learn what it means to face those who do not bend?"

Hadrian swallowed hard, but did not look away. "I've resisted this far without kneeling. And if you give me the chance... I will remain standing."

A faint smile appeared on Strax's lips. Finally, something he was pleased with.

A mercenary ran toward him, sword raised, screaming like a madman. Strax didn't even flinch. His aura, released with the intensity of a heartbeat, exploded like an invisible wave. The man was thrown against a distant wall, his body crushed as if struck by an invisible hammer.

The screams ceased for a moment. The entire square fell silent, staring at him.

"Listen well." Strax's voice echoed like thunder among the flames. "This merchant is under my protection." He lifted his chin, his eyes burning like liquid fire. "Whoever touches him, touches me."

Samira twirled her spear, chuckling softly, and added sarcastically, "And I promise it will be great fun to watch you try."

The mercenaries retreated a few steps, but the leader, furious and humiliated, would not accept it. He raised his curved sword and advanced. "I fear no monsters!"

The leader of the Scarlet Hand advanced with a roar that sounded more like desperation disguised as courage. The curved blade in his hand reflected the flames of the burning houses, resembling a hungry tooth about to bite into flesh.

Strax didn't move. He simply watched the man approach, each step marked by the crackling of the ember-covered stones of the square. The dragon's golden gaze was unblinking, and its silence was more frightening than any threat.

The leader raised his sword and delivered a swift, precise, horizontal blow, aiming for Strax's neck. The steel sliced ​​through the air—but met nothing but emptiness.

In the blink of an eye, Strax was simply no longer where he should have been. The mercenary staggered in confusion, until he realized his own blade had slammed into a wall of pure golden energy, which shimmered like scales for an instant before Strax.

"Much ado... for nothing." The dragon's voice sounded cold, almost disappointed.

The leader barely had time to step away when he felt something collide with his stomach. Strax had moved only a step, but that step was enough for his claw-like hand to close against the man's leather armor. The impact sounded like a hammer striking metal, and the leader spat blood as he was thrown back meters, rolling across the ground until he collided with an overturned cart.

A thick silence fell over the square. The other mercenaries, who had already retreated from Samira's attack, now hesitated, staring at their leader's body struggling to rise amid coughing and blood.

"Rats with swords are still rats," Strax said, his firm voice echoing through the flames. He walked slowly toward the fallen man, each step like that of an executioner about to deliver the final blow.

The leader, panting, raised his sword again, his hand trembling, but his eyes burning with hatred and fear. "I... I don't... fear monsters...!" he shouted, more to convince himself than out of bravery.

Samira laughed loudly, spinning the fiery spear in circles, scattering sparks that crackled through the air. "Then you're in luck," he said, his voice thick with malice, "because you won't be facing just one."