Reincarnated as an Evil Harem God

"Sylvaris..." she murmured beneath her breath, the name rolling over her tongue like a memory long buried.

She didn't understand it—but something about it struck her soul. A sound that echoed in places she didn't even know existed within her. It clung to her bones, resonated in her blood.

And when she finally spoke her own name, it hit him just as hard.

"I'm Iselynne. Thank you... for buying me."

Those words came out hollow. Not because she lacked sincerity—but because even she knew they weren't real gratitude. They were survival. A way to make herself feel something better about what she was now. About the collar that was no longer there, but still wrapped around her heart.

And Sylvaris heard it.

That loneliness behind her voice.

That quiet resignation.

And yet... when she spoke her name, something inside him screamed.

Iselynne.

He didn't know why, but it felt like the world cracked. Like a piece of him had been missing, and hearing that name jammed it violently back into place.

It made no sense.

But neither of them looked away.

The forest around them was calm.

Too calm.

As if the world itself had gone silent, leaving only the two of them behind. The wind was gentle. The trees didn't whisper. No beasts stirred. Only footsteps.

And the pounding of Sylvaris's heart.

It thundered in his chest like wildfire—loud, frantic, unrestrained. He could feel it, and judging by the way she tilted her head, so could she.

"Are you okay?" Iselynne asked softly, stepping closer.

Too close.

He felt her breath against his neck—warm, delicate, almost teasing. It sent a shiver across his spine and flushed a subtle red into his cheeks.

He quickened his pace instantly.

Because if he didn't... he might've stopped walking altogether.

He didn't reply to her words.

Not because he was cold. But because, deep down, he didn't even know why he'd bought her.

He hadn't planned it. He hadn't strategized it. He'd simply acted, moved by some strange pull he still couldn't explain. It was as if fate had whispered in his ear and pushed his hand forward—and now, here she was, walking behind him with that perfect voice and that distant, elegant gaze.

And he had no damn idea what to say to her.

It felt... awkward.

Like bumping into someone you used to know far too well. Like past lovers reuniting after lifetimes apart, and neither knowing what the first sentence should be. Or maybe she was just way too far out of his league.

Haha!

Ouch!

Author! How dare you pinch me?! I swear I'll report you for sexual assault—

Fine, fine... back to the story...

"Sylvaris?" she asked again, stepping even closer.

Her icy blue hair slipped behind her ear with effortless grace, the motion so natural yet so seductively elegant it was almost unfair. The way the moonlight kissed her features made her look ethereal—like some divine spirit draped in silk and frost.

And Sylvaris... was shy.

Shy...

It didn't make any damn sense.

This was the same man who had mind-fucked an elven sorceress into a moaning mess. The same man who'd bent a flat-chested tsundere over a tree and taken her ass like it was a conquest. The same bastard who had bred a foxkin woman in a steaming bath, fucking her like he was trying to knock her up on the first try.

That Sylvaris.

And now?

Now he was walking faster like some flustered teenage virgin caught staring too long.

The world must be ending...

Even Iselynne looked... surprised.

She had seen it plenty of times before—when men bought women like her, they didn't wait. They groped, they stripped, they pinned them down right there in the mud. Some even tried to fuck them on the spot, only to be dragged off by mercenaries who didn't want to watch some limp-dicked bastard humping in public like a dog in heat.

But Sylvaris... was different.

If only she knew.

If she had any idea what kind of beast he really was—the kind of man who broke women with mind, body, and tongue—she'd realize she was standing beside the biggest pervert in the entire fucking universe.

And maybe that was true.

Maybe that's exactly what he was.

"Do you not like me?" she asked softly, her voice carrying just the slightest tremble.

It surprised him. She sounded... hurt.

Back where she came from, she was revered. Worshiped. The most treasured beauty in her region. Men fought over the right to so much as touch her hand. For someone to ignore her now, to not even try, was strange. And it stung.

"That's not it," Sylvaris said, his tone finally steadying. "First, I need you to be my guide. I need to know how this place works. You seem knowledgeable. That's why I bought you."

It was a lie. But not entirely.

Yes, he wanted her. That much was obvious. But he also needed help. This continent was foreign, chaotic, and full of dangers he couldn't afford to underestimate. He had to find a way out of here. And unless there was a hidden teleportation gate or some forgotten ancient spell, the only way home was by sea.

Years of sea.

If he could find a ship strong enough to survive the vortexes.

And that... was a big fucking if.

"Oh..." she murmured, this time with a hint of surprise—and maybe even relief—in her tone.

He wasn't going to use her. Not like the others had. That alone felt like a breath of fresh air. But it also left her curious... Who exactly was this man called Sylvaris?

He wasn't normal. Not even close.

"So," she said, her tone shifting slightly—lighter now, but sharper, too. "I assume you're here for the Vault of the Battle God... am I right?"

She suddenly dashed ahead, light on her feet like a playful child, then spun around and stopped right in front of him.

Sylvaris halted, caught off guard—not by her speed, but by the smile that lit up her face.

It was radiant.

Bright. Effortless. So pure it made his chest tighten. For a moment, he swore he felt himself melt—just a little.

"Let's find it together then," she said, eyes gleaming. "How about that?"

Her grin widened, revealing pearl-white teeth, a flash of beauty that struck like lightning.

And damn... what a sight it was.