Demonic Dragon: Harem System

The moon reflected on the damp tiles of the inn, silvering the world as if everything were made of polished steel. Samira sat on the edge of the roof, one leg dangling in the air, the other bent, serving as a support for her arm. Bellatrix was beside her, quieter, her gaze fixed on the immensity of the sky. From up there, Thirval seemed to breathe slowly—lights flickering in the streets, the distant sound of the sea, and the faint echo of the forges that never slept.

For a few minutes, the silence was almost comfortable. Samira pulled back her hood and exhaled, letting the night wind tousle the dark strands of her hair.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" she murmured, looking at the moon.

Bellatrix replied without turning her face. "The moon is always beautiful. The problem is what comes with it."

Samira gave a half-smile. "Philosophical today, huh?"

Bellatrix merely raised an eyebrow.

The silence returned, dense, broken only by the snap of a window closing in the distance. Until a dry sound—the light impact of something landing on the tiles—made the two turn almost simultaneously.

A figure leaped from one roof to another, with the precision of a feline. Quick, silent, like a living shadow. Samira already had her hand on the dagger in her belt when the figure landed a few steps away from them, and the silvery moonlight revealed a familiar face.

"Relax," said Yennifer, raising her hands in a gesture of peace, the ever-provocative smile at the corner of her lips. "If I wanted to kill you, I would have done it back there, when you were arguing about who was going to get the last bottle of mead."

Samira let out a breath, rolling her eyes. "Dramatic as always."

"It's a gift." Yennifer sat down between the two, pulling up her hood and adjusting her coat. The cold wind ruffled the ends of her white hair, and the sound of the sea crashed against the rocks below.

For a moment, the three stood there in silence, like old war companions who knew that the calm before the conversation never lasted.

Samira was the first to break the ice.

"So?" she said impatiently. "Just say it. I'm not really in the mood to sit here staring at the sky while the wind tries to freeze my soul."

Yennifer glanced sideways, amused. "Always so gentle."

"Speak, Yennifer," Bellatrix cut in, her voice cold and direct. "What did you find out?"

Yennifer took a deep breath, crossed her legs, and rested her hands on her knees. "About that…"

Samira scoffed. "Here we go."

"…It's more complicated than I thought," Yennifer continued, ignoring the comment. "I followed the clues that Strax sent. I scoured the records, paid informants, and even infiltrated one of the Veil Company's warehouses. I thought I was going to find trafficking, smuggling, maybe some kind of illegal arms network. But what I found… is nothing like that."

Bellatrix frowned. "What do you mean?"

Yennifer shrugged, looking at the moon. "They're… good people."

The silence that followed was almost comical. Samira blinked slowly, then looked at Bellatrix, as if expecting her to confirm that she had misheard.

"What?" Samira asked, her tone a mixture of mockery and confusion. "Good people?"

"Yes," Yennifer nodded, serious. "Hardworking, honest. They pay taxes, help the neighboring villages, keep the port clean. They're practically saints."

Bellatrix narrowed her eyes. "That doesn't make sense."

"I know," Yennifer sighed. "But it's the truth."

Samira leaned forward. "And the black market?" "— she asked, in a tone that showed she didn't buy the story. "You yourself said they were buying information."

"They are," Yennifer admitted. "And that's what bothers me."

Bellatrix crossed her arms. "Explain."

"Apparently, they started buying data about Asgard and Strax a few weeks ago. They used intermediaries from the underworld for this, and paid dearly. But they didn't do anything illegal. They just... bought information."

Samira raised an eyebrow. "So a bunch of honest do-gooders are frequenting the black market to find out about our beloved empire-destroying lord? Sounds perfectly coherent."

Yennifer grimaced. "I know how it sounds, but I checked personally. No suspicious activity, no trace of corruption, nothing. Even the illegal merchants say the guys are 'respectful' in business."

"Respectful?" Samira laughed, incredulous. "How lovely. A bunch of knights buying dirty information with noble manners."

Bellatrix, however, remained silent, her gaze distant, thoughtful.

"What else did you find out?" she finally asked.

"Their leader," Yennifer said. "Erik Haldar. An experienced man, a former soldier. He fought on three war fronts and abandoned everything to found the Company. He believes the world can be rebuilt through work and honor."

Samira snorted. "How lovely. I bet he also saves kittens from trees and feeds orphans."

"Don't doubt it," Yennifer replied, without irony. "The people here really respect him. Even the thieves avoid crossing his path."

Bellatrix watched her intently. "But you didn't come all this way just to tell me he's a good person, did you?"

Yennifer looked at her, her smile fading. "No. I came because… even though he's 'good,' he's interested in Strax. And nobody with good intentions is interested in Strax without a reason."

Samira leaned back again, narrowing her eyes. "Finally, something that makes sense."

"I don't know what he wants," Yennifer continued, "but he's gathering detailed information. About the past, the wars, the alliances, even about the creatures connected to Asgard. It's like he's preparing for something."

"Preparing for what?" Bellatrix asked.

"Maybe an alliance. Maybe a defense. I don't know yet. But he doesn't seem to be looking for personal gain." Yennifer paused. "And that's what worries me the most."

"Because people like that…" Bellatrix murmured. "...are the hardest to predict."

Samira sighed loudly and flopped onto her back on the roof, staring at the sky. "So, in the end, the 'enemy' is a group of hardworking people led by an honorable knight who only wants the good of the world. Wonderful."

"Yeah, basically." Yennifer gave a half-smile. "Good luck explaining that to Strax."

Bellatrix didn't answer. Her gaze was fixed on the moon, but there was a shadow in her expression—something between doubt and calculation.

Samira noticed. "What are you thinking?"

"That maybe Strax needs to hear all this… and maybe not."

"Translation: you don't know whether to tell him or let him burn this place down for nothing." Bellatrix turned her face to her, and the cold look was enough to silence any joking.

Yennifer, sensing the mood, stood up, stretching her legs. "I'll continue observing. Maybe I can find out the real reason for this investigation. But..." she looked at the two of them, "be careful. If this man is really who they say he is, he could be both an ally and the kind of obstacle that even Strax wouldn't want to face head-on."

With a light leap, she disappeared again among the rooftops, as silently as she had arrived.

Samira sighed deeply, looking back at the sky.

"I always forget how good she is at that."

"She lives in the shadows," Bellatrix said softly. "It makes sense that she knows how to hide even from herself."

Samira turned her face and smiled. "Too poetic for you, Bel."

"I didn't sleep well."

The wind blew stronger, rustling their cloaks. Below, Thirval was still alive, with the sound of the forges and the smell of the sea.

...

The sun rose lazily over Thirval, tinging the rooftops with orange hues and making the sea look like a liquid blade. The fog still covered part of the alleys near the docks, and the sound of the forges echoed again like bells of a new day.

In the inn, the smell of fresh bread and hot iron filled the air. Samira came down the stairs first, adjusting her cloak over her shoulders and with a half-eaten piece of bread in her mouth. Bellatrix followed close behind, her step firm and her gaze as watchful as ever.

"You woke up early," Bellatrix commented, adjusting her sword belt.

"I didn't sleep well," Samira replied, her mouth full. "That bed was as hard as a shield. And I dreamed that Yennifer sold me on the black market for a bottle of wine." "—For the right price, I'd sell him too," Bellatrix retorted, seriously, which made Samira laugh loudly.

Her laughter attracted the attention of some men in the hall, but a single cold glance from Bellatrix was enough to make them look away.

"So?" Samira asked, swallowing the last piece of bread. "Are we going to see this Erik today?"

"Yes." Bellatrix looked outside, where the morning light was already beginning to gild the streets. "If Yennifer is right, he's the type of man who prefers frank conversations to spies. Better to go straight to him."

"'Frank conversations'," Samira repeated ironically. "Is that your nice way of saying 'provoke him until he loses his temper'?"

"If necessary," Bellatrix replied, without changing her tone.

Samira smiled, adjusting her hood. "I like it when you admit these things."

They left the inn, and the cold morning air hit their faces. The port was awake—men were unloading sacks of coal, women were bartering for fresh fish, and the ship bells swayed in the sea breeze. The noise of the city mingled with the smell of salt and smoke, and for a moment, Thirval seemed too alive to hide any secrets.

Samira looked up at the top of the hill, where the Veil Company's fortress stood in gray stone. Blue flags fluttered in the wind, displaying the symbol of a blade intertwined with a feather.

"Nice place for a bunch of 'good people'," Samira said. "I bet the guards will love seeing two outsiders knocking on their door."

"Then let's give them reasons to love it less," Bellatrix replied, starting to walk.