Infinite Harem System: I Grow Stronger From Every Female Lead

Arthur hovered in an outer dimension, the multicolored javelin trembling in his hand.

The four swords orbiting him cleaved arcs through the void like the rings of a fractured planet.

Stars trembled around him as though they could sense the magnitude of what was about to unfold.

Each pulse of his colour sent ripples through space, bending the starlight around him into colors unseen by mortal eyes.

Mi-kyong was bloodied, falling in slow motion, her shadowy sword extended, slicing through the void as if she could pierce the heavens themselves.

It had been barely five seconds since their fight started but she was already battered.

She gritted her teeth unwilling to yield yet.

Arthur's javelin hummed with light, streaks of every hue radiating off it. With a single thought, he hurled it at her.

The javelin cut through reality itself, a meteor of raw divine energy, aimed precisely at her form.

Mi-kyong twisted mid-fall, deflecting the blow with her own blade.

The clash of light and shadow sent shockwaves through the surrounding stars.

Nebulas shattered like glass, and comets were redirected from their courses as the force of the collision expanded.

With a flash, Arthur vanished from the void, appearing directly above her as she fell toward a fractured planet below.

He plucked one of his swords from orbit, dissolving the others into radiant fragments, and descended like a storm incarnate.

The impact of his landing cracked the surface beneath her, sending shards of celestial rock hurtling outward, annihilating moons in miniature explosions of light and energy.

Mi-kyong skidded across the jagged terrain, the edge of her shadow blade carving the ground as she tried to regain altitude.

Arthur's sword, now glowing with an intensity that rivaled stars, followed her movements.

Every strike they exchanged sent tidal waves across the planets in orbit.

Mountains disintegrated, continents toppled, and storms ignited in worlds light-years away.

The fabric of reality trembled as they shifted through dimensions.

One moment they were in a void of endless black, the next they tore through a crystalline cosmos where time bent like liquid.

In this mirrored dimension, Mi-kyong's strikes reflected infinitely, each blow fracturing stars into shards of ruby and sapphire.

Arthur moved through them like a masterful conductor, guiding his multicolored sword with precision, countering her chaos with pure, controlled force.

As they fought, the battle's scale grew incomprehensible. They collided in a realm where suns burned with colors unseen, and planets orbited in patterns that defied physics.

Each clash resonated like a symphony of destruction. Each strike carved paths through time, splintering alternate realities into ephemeral fragments that existed only to vanish under their power.

Mi-kyong's shadow blade expanded, enveloping entire star systems in darkness.

Arthur responded by channeling the javelin's multicolored energy through his sword, creating arcs of radiance that cut through the void.

Nebulae shattered, their gas clouds igniting into auroras that painted the battlefield in reds, blues, and golds.

The force of their movements warped time itself. Seconds stretched into eternities, and minutes collapsed into flashes.

They collided again, this time with such force that galaxies spun out of orbit.

Mi-kyong lashed out with a strike designed to pierce Arthur's core. He intercepted, their swords locked in a cosmic stalemate.

Sparks of energy cascaded from the clash, creating miniature supernovas that flickered like dying stars.

Arthur's face was serene, his gaze focused, while Mi-kyong's bloodied figure radiated both defiance and desperation.

Time rippled as they vaulted across dimensions.

One moment, they fought in a realm of liquid light, their bodies leaving trails of color that intertwined and exploded like fireworks.

The next, they collided in the skeletal remains of a world destroyed long ago, the ruins crumbling further with each strike.

Arthur's javelin hovered in stasis above him, orbiting like a halo, while Mi-kyong's shadow blade seemed to consume the very essence of the air around it.

Even the passage of time became a weapon. Mi-kyong fractured the seconds, slowing Arthur's perception in one dimension while accelerating her own in another.

He adapted instantly, synchronizing his consciousness with the flow of reality, seeing her attacks before they were even formed.

Their dance became a deadly ballet of foresight and instinct, each anticipating the other's moves while the universe unraveled around them.

Then, with a surge of divine authority, Arthur pierced the final barrier between dimensions, bringing them back to their world.

They fell into a vast cathedral suspended in time—the Temple of God.

Marble floors cracked beneath their descent, and pillars of ancient stone trembled as if sensing their power.

Light and shadow collided within the sacred halls, painting mosaics of devastation across the walls.

Arthur descended from the sky with the javelin ready, swords orbiting still, as Mi-kyong crashed into the shattered altar below.

The Temple trembled at only their residual energy. Even the storm that began long before their battle had not ceased.

Black clouds roared across the heavens, lightning split the sky, and rain poured like the world itself was grieving.

Arthur—Beom-seok—stood above Mi-kyong, blade in hand, chest rising and falling as if each breath was tearing him apart.

His body trembled with exhaustion, but his heart trembled even more.

Mi-kyong lay sprawled across the shattered earth, blood running down the corners of her lips. Her figure was broken, but her eyes still steady, watching him with that same unwavering gaze that always pierced his armor.

She did not beg. She did not cry.

She simply lay there, as though she had known this moment would arrive all along.

He shut his eyes firmly, gripping his light-forged blade so tightly it began to burn him.

With one final surge of strength, he raised it above his head.

The blade gleamed, cold and merciless, cutting through the rain as it descended.

The air made way as he brought the glowing sword down.

But the blade didn't impale her. It hovered just above her throat.

The steel trembled, so did his arms.

Mi-kyong didn't flinch. Somehow, she knew he wouldn't do it.

She looked up at him, serene despite the blood soaking her clothes and the ruin around them. Her lips curled into a faint, broken smile.

"You can't do it, can you?" she whispered.

Beom-seok's teeth ground together, his jaw tightening until pain shot down his face.

The rain mingled with the tears he could no longer hide. Droplets fell from his chin onto her wounded form like the sky itself was weeping for her.

"Why…" His voice cracked, hoarse and raw. "Why did you do all this, Mi? Why?"

Her smile wavered but never faded. Though her breathing grew shallow, her words carried a strange tenderness, fragile yet sharp enough to cut him.

"Idiot. It's because I love you," she said softly. "But maybe… maybe my love became too twisted. Maybe I wasn't the one meant for you after all."

The blade vanished from his hand, dissipating into fragments of light.

His knees gave way beneath him, and he sank before her, shaking. The battle was over, but no victory remained—only a hollow, gaping loss.

At first, he didn't notice the sharp stick protruding from her side. When he did, his eyes widened.

Her body had already been pierced, bleeding out slowly, life draining from her even without his strike.

Mi-kyong reached out with her trembling hand, placing her palm gently against his face. Her touch was faint, but to him, it felt like the weight of the entire world.

"Bemmy…" her voice quivered. "Do you still love me?"

He lowered his eyes, unable to face her, unable to withstand the sight of her fading form. But he answered regardless.

"…Yes. I do."

She smiled, though her lips were pale and her eyes dimming.

"Then I'm happy."

The storm began to break. Through the shrouded heavens, rays of sunlight pierced the clouds, scattering across the battlefield.

The warmth of dawn brushed against them as though the world wished to cradle their last moments together.

Her body trembled as she closed her eyes briefly. When they opened again, the colors within them had begun to fade.

Her very essence was unraveling. She had made her choice, given up on everything, and now had to bear the consequences.

Arthur could feel her breathing fade as her palm pressed against his face turned cold.

He had promised her one final mad dance. But even now, with the power of God, he couldn't do anything.

He tried to look away, only for her hand to stop him.

Mi-kyong smiled again, tears mingling with the blood on her cheeks.

"Don't look away, Bemmy," she whispered softly. "Look at me."

His throat tightened. Every instinct in him screamed to shut his eyes, to hide from the unbearable truth. But her trembling fingers held him there, forcing him to raise his gaze.

And so he did. With his tears spilling freely, he looked at her. It reminded him of the old days. The days he wished would come back. The days he didn't want to let slip past.

Mi-kyong's smile softened, gentle as the spring sunlight.

"See?" she whispered, her voice now barely audible. "I'm fine."

The lie shattered him more than the truth ever could. He wanted to scream, to beg, to break the heavens themselves for daring to take her away. But all he could do was cry.

Her fingers slipped from his cheek, falling lifelessly to the ground.

Her head tilted forward, her lips parting slightly in a faint exhale. And then she was still.

Silence fell. The battlefield, once roaring with thunder and violence, seemed to mourn in quiet reverence.

Beom-seok clutched her to his chest, shaking as his sobs echoed through the emptiness. His tears fell like rivers, but they could never bring her back.

Mi-kyong was gone. Forever.

─── ✦ End of Chapter ✦ ───