Reincarnated as an Evil Harem God

"Come here… let me test you! If you can last ten exchanges, I'll take you as my mount!" Sylvaris grinned, the light of it bright enough to outshine the sun itself, radiating a confidence so raw it bordered on madness. His sword danced through his fingers with casual grace, as if it were an extension of his desire rather than a weapon, and in his eyes there was no fear—only the thrill of what was to come. He was looking forward to this fight so much he'd abandoned reason entirely, forgetting his own safety, lost in the hunger to dominate whatever dared to stand before him.

The monster answered his madness with its own, letting out a guttural snarl before charging forward, its massive form tearing through the forest with even more force than before. And when that colossal palm came crashing down, aiming to flatten him where he stood, Sylvaris vanished, slipping to the side like a shadow breaking away from its body. In that moment, he unleashed the secret movement technique of his bloodline, a blur of motion so fast it outpaced the monster's reflexes entirely. The beast twisted its head, trying to track him with glowing red eyes, but all it saw was a streak of motion passing by, too quick, too smooth, until a sharp, burning pain exploded across its thigh.

A deep wound stretched from the creature's knee all the way to its belly, nearly severing the leg in a single, fluid strike, so precise, so devastating, it looked less like a slash and more like a sculptor's cut. The sheer finesse behind it made those watching from the divine window outside freeze, their blood boiling at the sight. Sylvaris's very first move had already gone beyond expectation. They knew he was strong, but this? This was a level of execution few dared to imagine. Only one man smiled knowingly, the king, his arms folded, eyes narrowed in pride. He had always known what kind of monster this boy truly was, and in his mind, there was no doubt that Sylvaris would breeze through every challenge laid before him. After all, the strongest beast in the trials was only level 50… and Sylvaris was built to break limits.

But someone else was watching from far above, beyond the reach of mortal senses, nestled within her own isolated pocket of space. A woman hovered there, her long pink hair drifting like strands of silk caught in a wind that didn't exist, flowing weightlessly around her radiant form. Her body was wrapped in armor so luminous it rivaled the sun itself, not from glitter or polish, but from sheer divine presence. Pure white, edged in gold, it was marked with old battle scars—evidence that this was no pampered goddess. No, this was a seasoned warrior, one who had earned every line etched into her armor through blood and fire. A woman who didn't flinch at the thought of war. A goddess unafraid to dirty her hands—if not her whole world—when necessary.

"How interesting..." she murmured, her voice barely more than a breath, yet it echoed in the silence of her dimension like a divine whisper. Her sky-blue eyes shone with such piercing brilliance that even without knowing her name, one would feel the weight of her gaze and the truth of what she was—a goddess. And indeed, she was. Valoria, the goddess of all heroes and heroines, the divine overseer of trials, the one who judged not only strength but spirit. She had taken a sudden interest in the newcomer who now tore through her sacred challenge with laughter and bloodlust. From the moment he entered her realm, she could feel it... Sylvaris was different. He didn't tremble. He didn't doubt. He didn't kneel. And that alone earned her respect, more than raw power ever could. For power meant nothing if it belonged to someone too afraid to wield it. The ones who bowed when outmatched were never worthy. But this one… he had no intention of bowing to anyone.

"I can feel the aura of my sisters on him… who sent him here to this plane?" she murmured, watching Sylvaris with sharp, gleaming eyes. Her voice was soft, but laced with divine weight, like every word carried centuries of judgment behind it. "He shines… uncut, unpolished, but already brighter than the rest. A wild gem waiting to be claimed."

She tilted her head, pink hair flowing like silk through the light of her private dimension, the golden trim of her armor glinting with quiet power.

"If I'm not mistaken… Seraphina's warmth is on him," she said, lips curling just slightly. "That makes sense. She's the one who brings heroes into my realm for testing. But this other scent… Nyxaria?" Her expression hardened, voice dipping lower. "Why would the goddess of shadows be touching what belongs to me? What is she plotting now, creeping her claws into my trials…"

Her gaze lingered longer than necessary, studying every line of Sylvaris's body, every movement, every flash of that arrogant grin.

"I need to stay vigilant," she said under her breath, eyes sharpening. "Even if he's a talent like no other. Especially if he is. If he becomes a threat… then I will kill him."

She paused. Her lips curling into a smile.

"…Or I'll bend him."

Her voice dropped, huskier now, breath sliding just a little deeper into her chest. "Mmm. That would be better, wouldn't it… To see someone like him kneeling before me… Not from weakness. Not because he's broken. But because I made him kneel. Because he knows who stands above him."

She shivered, subtle, almost imperceptible, but real.

"Mmmm~… It's been a long time since I've seen a man worth taming," she whispered, biting the edge of her lip. "And if he turns out to be evil… oh, then he's mine. I'll drag him by the throat into the light… or I'll chain him down in the dark and make him beg."

She exhaled slowly, eyes locked on Sylvaris below.

"Let's see how far you go, boy. Just don't disappoint me."