Demonic Dragon: Harem System

Athenion loomed before them like a colossus of stone and noise. Unlike Filgram, where disorder was the heart of the city, Athenion resembled a living chessboard—each street belonging to a power, each corner marked by the influence of a guild. Colorful flags fluttered from the tall buildings, each bearing the crest of a different group: a silver blade crossing a blue shield; a clenched fist encircled by chains; a stylized red eye.

Rogue walked ahead, her eager eyes taking in everything, while the rest of the group followed. She seemed at home in this organized chaos, like a wolf unleashed on the territory of other predators. Her dark cape flapped in the wind, and her toothy grin never left her.

"Ah, I already like it here," she said, laughing loudly as she passed an ornate gate guarded by three muscular men. "So many puppies fighting for territory... I can't wait to kick everyone's ass."

"Subtle as always." "Frieren," Frieren commented, smoothing her silver hair, which shone even in the shadows. Her voice was calm, almost cold, but there was a hint of irony. "Are you going to declare war on everyone upon arrival?"

"And why not?" Rogue replied, shrugging. "That's what Strax asked for, isn't it? To create a mercenary guild. Why waste time licking boots?"

Behind them, Daniela, Scarlet's eldest daughter, rolled her eyes. She had a proud, disciplined bearing, her long black hair tied in a tight braid. Her tone was dry when she spoke: "Because creating something from nothing requires strategy, not just brawling. Strax can tolerate your savage ways, but this place…" she glanced at the colorful banners dominating the buildings "…is a nest of vipers. Every misstep and we'll become everyone's target."

"Blah blah blah…" Rogue made a dismissive gesture, but her golden eyes sparkled with amusement. "You sound just like your mother."

Cassandra, the second daughter, let out a low, mocking laugh. Unlike her sister, she was more relaxed, her loose hair falling in dark waves over her shoulders, her gaze lazy but full of venom. "Daniela always thinks she's the general. But you know I prefer your way, Rogue. It's more… fun."

"At least someone understands." Rogue winked at her, satisfied.

Bellatrix, the youngest of the three, walked with her hands behind her head, looking up as if the sky were more interesting than the argument. Her voice was light, but filled with a certain childish contempt. "You two only know how to argue. In the end, Strax will decide, and neither of you will disobey." The comment brought a brief silence to the group, but Rogue soon laughed again, as if amused even more.

"That little girl... has a sharp tongue like her mother too," she said, approaching Bellatrix. "I like it."

Frieren sighed, keeping a distance, as always. "We're wasting time," she said finally. "You can play with Scarlet's daughters later. First, we need to understand how power works here."

Rogue raised her arms theatrically, as if surrendering. "Okay, okay... strategy before the fight." Then she smirked. "But not for long."

They turned a corner, entering a wider street. The heart of Athenion beat there. Guilds displayed their symbols on huge facades, some on entire buildings. Armed mercenaries passed proudly, showing off tattoos that marked their allegiances. Each group seemed like its own private troop.

A guild called the Iron Dogs displayed intertwined iron chains at its gate; uniformed guards guarded each entrance. Further ahead, the Red Wings—specializing in aerial patrol with warhawks—displayed birds trapped in enormous bronze cages. On another corner, the Thorns of Night were openly recruiting, a man shouting the benefits of joining them while flashing gold coins.

"Hah!" Rogue laughed. "This is a buffet, my dears. Each guild is a carcass ready to be devoured."

Daniela crossed her arms. "If you go after them all at once, you'll end up dead. We need to choose one."

"Choose?" Rogue raised an eyebrow. "No, no, no... we'll hunt one, devour it, then another, and another... until there's nothing left."

"That is, if we can survive the first one," Bellatrix murmured, but her slight smile betrayed her liking for the idea.

Frieren, until then silent, finally spoke calmly: "I suggest we start with the weak. Those smaller guilds, scattered on the edges. Taking down one of them will send a message." Her cold eyes scanned the street. "The big ones won't move immediately. They'll wait.

"A strategy to scale power." Daniela nodded, satisfied. "I agree."

Rogue stroked his chin, making a theatrical grimace as if he were truly thinking. "Hmmm... attack the weak first... grow by devouring the crumbs... until he's strong enough to kick the big guys..." Then he smiled, showing his teeth. "I like it."

"What a surprise," Cassandra murmured, chuckling softly. "She even knows how to think when she wants to."

Rogue ignored the comment and turned to the group. "Fine, then. Let's find one of those small guilds. One no one will miss."

They crossed the street, ducking into narrower alleys. The smell changed: less perfume and wine, more sweat and mildew. The sound of cheerful music faded, replaced by the distant echo of metal on metal and muffled voices.

It was Cassandra who pointed first. "There."

A low stone building, with no flashy flags, just a poorly painted coat of arms on the door: a dagger pierced through a coin. Three men stood at the entrance, laughing and drinking as if they had nothing better to do.

"The Silver Claws." Daniela read the poorly carved sign quietly. "Small, disorganized... and cheap mercenaries. Perfect."

"Perfect for what?" Bellatrix asked, still looking up.

"To be the first victim," Rogue replied, licking her lips like a predator before its prey. "If we can devour this rat's nest, we'll have a starting point."

Frieren narrowed her eyes. "They won't open their doors to us willingly."

Rogue chuckled softly, approaching the entrance. "Oh, dear... that's why I'm here."

She stopped in front of the three men. They looked at her disdainfully, already half-drunk. One of them spat on the ground and said, "What do you want? This is no place for women."

Rogue tilted his head, his feline smile growing. "It's no place for women... but it's a great place for widows."

Before the man could react, Rogue moved like a snake. The dagger slipped from its sheath and pressed itself against his throat, while his other hand gripped the beer he held. She took a sip, laughing.

"Hmmm... warm, watery, and disgusting," he said, pushing the man back. "Just like you."

The second man tried to draw his sword, but Daniela had already moved, quick as thunder. Her blade touched the man's chest before he could even breathe. Cassandra, for her part, just smiled, leaning against the wall as if watching a show.

Bellatrix sighed, but also moved closer, her gaze cold and distant, as if she had already foreseen the outcome. Frieren, a few steps behind, crossed his arms, watching silently.

Rogue slammed the door shut, pushing his way inside. The hall smelled of sour beer and old blood. Some men were playing cards, others polishing weapons. The noise stopped when they saw the group enter.

"What is this?" A broad-shouldered brute stood up, holding an axe. "Who the hell are you?"

Rogue spread his arms theatrically, his savage smile lighting up his face. "Us? We are your new leadership."

Silence. Then laughter echoed. The men laughed as if it were the funniest joke in the world. But then, Rogue's golden gaze flashed, and the blade of his dagger sank into the nearest table, cutting through it like butter.

"Whoever wants to live... kneel."

The tension exploded like wildfire.

"Geez, you guys look like villains," Frieren said, feeling a shiver.