Reincarnated as an Evil Harem God

The spiral of ice and earth came crashing down from the sky with devastating force, yet the man it was meant to obliterate had already vanished, leaving behind only a streak of red light scorched into the ground like a warning. A heartbeat later, a figure shot into the air, moving with such raw violence that the very wind screamed around him, and with a brutal, bone-shattering impact, he slammed into the ice entity, tearing through it and reducing it to shards that scattered like broken glass caught in a storm.

Before the remnants could even fall, golden brilliance burst from his eyes, wild and blinding, and he surged forward—no, exploded—toward the earth construct with a speed so unnatural, so impossibly fast, that it defied everything the world knew about levels, a blur of wrath and power unthinkable for someone still beneath the threshold of 50...

"Is that... Sylvaris?" someone from House Elyndor murmured, their voice carrying the kind of unease that rippled down spines. The display of power they had just witnessed didn't line up with the man they believed they knew—their young master, their family's chosen one. Yes, he was strong, undeniably so, but no one had ever seen him move like that.

He wasn't just fast. He was lightning incarnate, a living flash that carved the sky, a meteor made flesh, so swift and overwhelming it felt like the world itself paused to make room for him. But all stars, no matter how bright, were meant to fall... and that's what frightened them. That maybe, just maybe, this was his final blaze of glory. A last, desperate surge to clear the stage. Because how else could anyone explain such a sudden, explosive rise in power?

Well... the answer, as usual, was tucked neatly into the filth-stained folds of the Harem God System. And honestly? It's not that complicated. Sylvaris still has no damn clue how most of it works, but one little hidden mechanic is that he can tap into divine-level power for a short time—so long as his life is on the line and at least one of his women is begging the heavens for him to survive. Overpowered? Yeah. Maybe. Feel like it's bullshit? Blame the author. He's the one pulling this chaos out of his ass. Frankly, I think he's lost the plot already. If this keeps up, when the hell is this idiot MC even going to suffer again...?

Anyway…

People watched, breath held and bodies trembling, as Sylvaris's sword ignited with a blinding red light that bled across the sky like a wound torn open by rage, the blade expanding until it was ten times its original size, humming with a power that made the air itself flinch—then it came crashing down with thunderous force on the earth entity, the impact so brutal it shattered the creature into fragments, sending crimson brilliance bursting outward like a wildfire devouring the horizon. But it wasn't over. Oh no. Not even close.

Just when it seemed like he had finished the fight, the world began to tremble beneath their feet, the ground convulsing with primal terror as an eerie, high-pitched wail echoed through the skies—screams and howls of agony, fury, and something deeper, something ancient.

Then it appeared...

A monster born of madness and elements, spinning like a cyclone, its body a swirling abomination forged from everything that had come before—earth, fire, ice, and wind—fifty arms lashing out on each side, and from each one, a sword of elemental fury formed, blazing with killing intent so thick it poured into the air like smoke. It let out a roar that could strip skin from bone, then lunged at Sylvaris, striking first with a barrage of blinding speed and hate. The killing intent slammed into the young man like a tidal wave, trying to smother his lungs, to make him kneel, to make him break.

But Sylvaris didn't kneel. He didn't even flinch.

He wasn't about to be scared by wind.

His own killing intent erupted like a volcano, dark and violent, rising skyward with a fury that sent shockwaves into the heavens, and somewhere within it, unseen by mortal eyes, a single black strand of energy slithered into his sword—silent, ancient, and hungry. It wasn't meant to be noticed, not yet, but its power surged through him like a heartbeat of oblivion.

And now, three powers flowed through his veins in perfect harmony—holy, harem god, and darkness—each one vying to burn brighter than the other, until they didn't clash, but merged. And from that impossible fusion, something divine and terrifying began to manifest beneath his feet and across his palms. Golden sigils took form, glowing with an impossible brilliance, forged from laws that were never meant to coexist. It was something new. Something blasphemous. Something glorious.

And then he moved.

His chest pounded with such ferocity it felt like it might tear itself free of his ribcage, but he didn't care. Sylvaris stepped forward, and his monstrous crimson sword collided with the storm of a hundred elemental blades, the clash so violent that the sky dimmed and the mana-forged spectating screens across the trial realm cracked and shattered, the image of the battle warping into flickers and static like reality itself couldn't handle what it was seeing.

It was a clash of gods. But not in the heavens.

This was divinity fought on mortal soil.

And far above them, in the divine realms, the goddess of heroes—Valoria—fell from her throne, collapsing to her knees as her divine eyes widened in disbelief, glowing like stars scattered across a night sky. She had sent that monster to bully him, a lesser god weakened on purpose, bound by rules to keep it far below its true might. Even so, killing it should have been impossible.

But he had done it.

And he had done it with all the reckless, arrogant, untamed glory of Sylvaris Elyndor.

"Bring me another one!!!" Sylvaris roared, his voice splitting the air like a war horn tearing through the clouds, his golden eyes blazing with madness, defiance, and that insatiable hunger for more—for challenge, for chaos, for blood. The skies didn't answer. Not right away. But the system did.

A cold flash blinked across his vision, and a message etched in divine letters burned into the space before his eyes.

[Congratulations! You have reached Level 35!]

The air around him trembled again, as if the world itself recognized the birth of something it couldn't contain. And Sylvaris... he just grinned.