Killed by the Hero. Reincarnated for Revenge... with a Lust System

The wind still carried the smell of mass graves when we reached the walls of the Scarlet Forge City. They rose like two jaws reddened by centuries of fire, tall columns of black stone streaked with red veins, sweating the heat of the forges buried in their guts. The gates stood open, gaping like a maw ready to swallow us.

I walked first, Sae at my side. She moved with her head held high, hood thrown back. Her white hair stood out against the dark stone, her naked silhouette barely concealed by a cloak too short to hide her firm thighs. She wasn't afraid of being seen like that, offered up to the eyes of the women who held these walls, and their gazes clung to her as much as to me. But it wasn't lust. It was an appraisal, cold and merciless.

As soon as we crossed the threshold, the air changed. Heavier, saturated with smoke, ash, sweat. The first quarter had nothing of the splendor I'd been told about. Starving kids played in the mud, knees cracked, lips split by the cold. Their mothers, thin and hunched, hauled them by the arm toward rotten plank shacks. I heard a child cry. A sharp smack rang out immediately, and silence returned. A maternal hand, or a whip — it didn't matter: misery tolerated no noise.

A little further on, bare-chested men strained to unload blocks of ore. Their bodies were nothing but skin and bone, ribs standing out, wrists marked by chains. Beside them, forewomen with broad shoulders and whips in hand watched every move. One false step and they struck without hesitation. The men's sweat mingled with the mud, and some collapsed to their knees, kicked up to their feet at once.

I slowed, watching the scene. I felt their looks on me, heavy and burning. Not mere curiosity: it was hunger. Hate. Despair. Males here were no more than shadows, tools, and my presence — a man at the head of an army — cracked something in their eyes.

Sae brushed past me, her lips almost against my ear.

"Even here," she murmured, "the fire feeds poverty as much as wealth. It's a world forged by pain."

Her voice trembled with a truth I didn't need to hear, but one I had to carve into my flesh. I nodded slowly, but another thought rumbled inside me: and it's this world I will tear apart, to build another.

The city rose before us, its quarters stacked like the strata of an inverted hell: misery at the foot, furnace at the heart, and promises of luxury at the top. Each step toward the center brought me closer to Kaelina, and already I felt this city would test me more violently than any battlefield.

I lifted my chin, forcing myself to absorb every detail, as if sheer will could dissolve that weight. But Sae, at my side, wouldn't let me lose myself in false nobility. Her voice slid into my ear, sharp:

"Do you see their looks? One mistake, and they'll worship you… or hang you."

I felt her breath against my cheek. She was right. Those wretches waited for a symbol, an excuse to tip over. And I was that symbol. One misstep, and I wouldn't have an army, but a starving pack.

A distant rumble rose. We came out into the forge quarter. The heat struck us like a wall of flame. hammers rang in unison, iron crashing through the air like war drums. Chains chimed, clamped to the ankles and wrists of the male slaves who forced themselves to keep the rhythm. Their skin ran with sweat, blackened by soot, their muscles vibrating under the load. For an instant I thought I could feel their flesh burn, swallowed by the flames they fed without respite.

Sae moved closer, her lips nearly brushing my ear.

"Here, metal is worth more than flesh."

Her words left a bitter taste in my mouth. I fixed my gaze on a slave who had collapsed, unable to lift his hammer. A whip cracked immediately, his back splitting under the bite, and he rose again with a muffled groan. Not a single woman flinched. Not one.

The roar of the forges receded behind us. Higher up, the air changed again. Heavy scents of spice, polished leather and dried flowers wrapped around us. We were entering the market quarter.

Stalls overflowed with vivid silks, jewel-studded trinkets, rare fruits whose skins shone like blood. But it wasn't the wealth that struck me first: it was the absence of men. Here, almost every stall was run by women. Tall silhouettes draped in scarlet veils, their breasts accentuated by necklaces, their hips emphasized by golden belts. They moved with the assurance of predators who had never once lowered their eyes.

The few males we still saw were mere porters, scribes hunched behind counters, docile servants who served in silence. The merchants smiled with excessive insistence. They slid fabrics down their thighs, their fingers tracing their hips, as if to make me want to seize them — me, or their wares. Behind every polite smile I saw fangs. Behind every seductive gesture, the cold calculation of a transaction.

Sae didn't smile. She wore that fixed look, the one of a she-wolf sniffing poisoned prey.

At last we reached the heights. The din died away like a flame starved of air. The noble quarter spread before us in muffled silence. Streets were paved with polished red marble, each stone gleaming as if it had been waxed with blood. Grand houses with scarlet stained-glass rose behind ornate gates.

And there, no men at all. Only women. Guards with stern faces, armed with black lances; nobles in scarlet gowns that revealed more skin than fabric; maids in fine tunics slipping like shadows between columns. Men had vanished, swallowed by this world of velvet and iron. It was a queen city, a fortress of feminine flesh.

I stopped for a second. The contrast was so violent it became obscene. Behind us: mud, hunger, sweat and the whip. Here: velvet, marble and peace bought with the blood of others.

Sae slid her hand into mine. Not a tender gesture, but a firm grip, as if to remind me that it was here, in this perfumed, treacherous silence, that my real battlefield began.

The quiet of the noble quarter had something heavy, almost religious. Each step rang on the polished red marble like a reminder: we were no longer in the mud, nor in the roar of the forges, but in a sanctuary where power was breathed with every breath. That was when she appeared.

A guard stepped forward. Tall, proud, her chest cinched in a scarlet armor that hugged her curves like a second skin. Her hips swung with the sure rhythm of her steps, her lips pressed tight betrayed an annoyance she couldn't hide. When she reached my side she knelt and bowed her head.

A shiver ran down my spine; what struck me was her face: when she briefly lifted her eyelids, her eyes shone with a troubled light. Not hate, not disgust, but remorse. As if every fiber of her being refused this act imposed by duty, and she blamed herself for having to bow before a male.

I felt the tension thicken. My fingers clenched despite myself. This is what I am to them: an anomaly. A paradox they hate and desire at once.

The guard straightened at once, resuming her mask of coldness.

"Lord Veldross. Lady Sae. I am charged with escorting you to your quarters."

Her voice snapped, clear, but behind her words I heard the wound of her salute.

We followed her through corridors lined with scarlet columns, our steps muffled by ivory rugs embroidered with gold. The contrast with the misery of the lower quarters burned my eyes. Everything here breathed luxury, order, feminine domination… and yet that guard had just bent before me.

I paused for a moment, heart heavy. The words escaped me despite myself.

"Even at the top… I sometimes feel like a stranger in this world."

Sae turned her silver eyes to me. She didn't smile. Her face remained grave, but in that seriousness there was a tenderness that pierced me. She squeezed my hand, her fingers cold but sure.

"Then never forget," she said in a voice both soft and firm. "If you have no place, take it. Forge it."

She brought her face close to mine, her lips almost brushing my cheek, her warm breath contrasting with the cold marble around us.

"I will be your shadow. Your steel."

Her words sank into my chest like a blade, but a blade that kept me standing.

I looked at her, and for a moment I forgot the guard, the columns, the weight of the city. It was no longer the Scarlet Forge testing me. It was myself. And Sae, naked in her certainty, was the only reason I kept moving forward.

The guard left us before a double obsidian door carved with scarlet runes. When they opened, a breath of perfumed air struck me. Not the acrid smell of coal nor the sweat of the forges… but that of polished wood, incense and spilled wine on rugs too rich for it to matter.

The suite assigned to us was not a room, but a miniature kingdom. A vast circular hall opened onto balconies overlooking the whole Scarlet Forge City. From there I could see the entire town: chimneys still spitting their smoke, the poor quarters consigned to shadows, and farther off the glittering domes of the nobles. The city lived beneath my eyes like a feverish organism, breathing, burning, ready to consume itself.

A massive desk stood at the center, carved from red marble veined with gold. The surface gleamed like a mirror, too perfect for a mere work table. It looked as if it had been made expressly for me, for me to sit and spread out my plans.

Domestic servants entered, almost all women, dressed in thin tunics that revealed more than they concealed. Their movements were precise, silent: they set my things on the desk, my weapons, my maps, my campaign documents. Some glanced at me sideways, surprised to have to obey a man; others touched me with their eyes as if gauging my worth. Then they disappeared as quickly as they had come, swallowed by the closing door.

I took my place behind the desk. The leather of my cloak creaked against the chair. I unfurled the rolls of maps, aligned the marking stones, scribbled lines in haste. Not a second's rest. My fingers already ran as if possessed by the need to draw again and again my plans. Each line, each circle, each arrow represented one less night before confrontation.

Sae approached without a word. She placed her hands on the edge of the desk, leaning so that her bare chest brushed my arms. I felt the warmth of her skin distract me, but she had not come for that. She took one of the rolls, unrolled it on her side, and in a calm voice began to read the annotations I'd hastily scrawled.

"There," she said, "you overestimate their logistics. Look. If you pull a battalion from the East to place it on the southern axis, you create a breach Kaelina will exploit."

I looked up. She was right. She was always right when it came to tempering my excesses. Her slender fingers traced the maps with the precision of a dagger. I wanted conquest, burning, imposition. She wanted to lock, reinforce, make things last.

I sat back down, hand on my temple, breath short.

"Even here, in this suite, I have no right to breathe. Every moment, every detail matters…"

Sae crouched beside me. She took my hand, guided it to her lips, and planted a kiss there. Then she let her forehead rest against my wrist.

"You are not alone, Sora. You never have been."

I closed my eyes. The map beneath my fingers trembled, not from fatigue, but because I understood. Yes, I might be the architect of this war. But she, naked and kneeling at my side, was the cement that kept my empire from crumbling.

I opened my eyes and plunged back into my plans, heart pounding too hard. Sae stayed there, upright, vigilant, my shadow and my steel. Together, we built the night.