Reincarnated as an Evil Harem God

Sylvaris found himself lost in her eyes, in that radiant smile, in the strange, almost divine purity she carried without effort. She was different—so different it knocked something loose in him, something he didn't have words for. There was softness in her, elegance untouched by filth or fear, but he knew that wasn't all there was.

Beneath that calm surface, something darker stirred. Not evil—just wild. A spark. A flicker of danger that mirrored something inside himself.

She wasn't just beautiful. She was a mystery to his curiosity.

And when she'd said, "Let's go look for it together," it wasn't just words. It was a promise. A tease. A glimpse of a girl who craved adventure and chaos as much as he did.

That single line told him more than anything else she'd said. She wasn't scared of what waited ahead. She wanted it.

Just like him.

And maybe, just maybe, this wasn't some random twist of fate. Maybe they were meant to cross paths right here, right now, in a foreign land neither fully understood.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Sylvaris didn't just feel hunger in his chest.

It was a feeling he'd never known before.

Something unfamiliar. Soft, but dangerous. And maybe it was the beginning of something that could shatter him completely.

He remembered what Nyxaria had told him.

If you never learn to feel... if you never learn to love... your powers will be devoured by the very women you claim.

It had sounded like a joke at the time. A riddle. A warning whispered between lust and conquest. But now, walking beside this girl with frost in her eyes and starlight in her voice, he wasn't so sure anymore.

Iselynne made him feel new. Made him feel different.

And if he wasn't careful... she might be the one who breaks the curse.

Or the one who proves it was real all along.

"Together, huh..." he murmured, the words barely a whisper as his gaze lingered on her face.

Their eyes met and held, locked in a quiet, charged stillness that made the rest of the world fall away. For that one moment, the forest disappeared—the trees, the cold, the silence—all of it drowned beneath the strange rhythm of something neither of them could name.

She didn't look like a girl who had just been bought from a cage, shackled and sold like cattle.

Dressed in moonlight and silk, standing beneath the starlit canopy with the silver glow of night painting her skin, she looked like a nobleman's daughter, a lady of grace and poise, untouched by dirt or chains.

And he? He almost felt like some fairytale prince, arriving at the edge of the woods not to dominate or conquer, but to take her hand and lead her home.

But that wasn't the truth.

The truth was... neither of them understood what this connection really was. This invisible thread tugging between hearts that had no reason to recognize each other. It wasn't love. Not yet. But it wasn't lust either. It was something deeper. Something older.

"You're not afraid of me?" he asked, his voice low, almost teasing. "Or do you just feel that good finally being out of that cage, so now you're all smiles?"

He laughed as he said it, and it wasn't like his usual laugh—sharp, dark, and laced with control. This one was softer. Real. The kind of laugh that hadn't escaped his lips in a long time. And the smile that followed wasn't meant to seduce or disarm.

It was just... honest.

A piece of Sylvaris that rarely ever saw the light of day, now exposed under the cold, clear glow of the moon.

"You could say that..." she said softly, twirling in place, her hands clasped behind her back as she took a few slow, exaggerated steps forward. Her movements were almost childish in their freedom—innocent, carefree, but carried with them a strange weight, like a bird testing its wings after years in a cage.

The silk of her dress shimmered under the moonlight, catching the silver glow and painting her like a figure out of a painting, something between a goddess and a dream.

As she walked ahead, she glanced up at the sky, her face illuminated by the pale light filtering through the treetops. The stars reflected in her eyes, but Sylvaris didn't just see wonder there—he saw longing. Something deep. Something quiet.

"Well... of course I'm happy to finally leave that place," she said, still gazing upward. "And you didn't brand me. That alone makes it hard not to smile."

She laughed lightly, and the sound danced through the cool forest air, carried on the wind like something precious.

"But also..." she continued, slower now, her steps slowing as she turned back to look at him, "I feel like I've finally met someone who can show me the real world. I've always been locked away. First in my room. Then in that wagon. And now..." her voice softened, almost whispering, "Now I have a chance to chase something real. Something powerful. If we can find the inheritance of the Battle God, I'd be happy to share it—with the person who pulled me out of that hell."

She giggled again, twirling once more before facing him fully.

But this time, he saw it.

Beneath the glow of the moon and the curve of her smile—there was sadness.

Faint. But unmistakable.

He didn't know why he said it. The words just... slipped.

"Do you not miss your family? I can send you back. Just say the word."

As soon as they left his mouth, he blinked.

He hadn't meant to say that.

It wasn't calculated. Wasn't planned. It simply came out—reluctant, quiet, almost... gentle.

And it shocked him.

Because Sylvaris never offered a way out.

Not to anyone.

"I do... I do..." she whispered, her breath barely rising above the rustle of the leaves around them. Her voice was softer now, and her gaze drifted away from his, toward the path ahead, like she couldn't bear to look him in the eye as she said the words.

"But not as much as you'd think," she continued, her tone hollow. "My family... they never truly loved me. They hated me for who I was—for what I am. I don't expect you, or anyone, to understand that."

Her shoulders lowered, and the way she said it—the quiet bitterness laced with something deeper, older, more wounded—hit him harder than he expected.

"I see..." Sylvaris replied, his voice unusually low.

He found himself thinking of his own home.

Not the one in this world, but the one long before. His first life. His original family. And then the one that followed—cold stares, political masks, and the weight of being unwanted by everyone except a small handful of people who actually saw him.

"I too... wasn't exactly loved," he said. "Not by most of my family. Only my sisters—they were sweet, lovely girls, always looking after me, always smiling when others frowned. But everyone else? They wanted me gone. Dead, if possible. Like I was a curse they couldn't erase fast enough."

He glanced toward her then, and their eyes met again beneath the canopy of night, the moon casting long shadows through the trees. A cool breeze stirred the branches above, carrying the scent of pine, earth, and wildflowers just beginning to bloom.

"So in a way," he added, more softly now, "you and I... we're not so different."

It was strange. Even for me to narrate this.

Sylvaris—cold, arrogant, the bastard who breaks women with a glance—now looked like some hurt little puppy, standing in the middle of the woods with his heart cracked open. And her? Iselynne, the frosty beauty with eyes like winter storms, now looked like a wounded kitten, all soft sighs and aching memories.

Both of them acting out of character.

...I don't know... Maybe the moonlight was cursed... Maybe the Author's been writing too long and needs sleep. But... I'll just keep narrating... Let's see where this goes.

"Pfft..." she suddenly cracked, a grin breaking through the softness of her expression.

Then she laughed.

A full, heart-melting laugh that echoed through the trees, light and real and entirely unchained.

"My savior is just as wounded as me... hahaha!"

Sylvaris blinked, caught somewhere between confused and disarmed, watching her eyes crinkle with genuine amusement.

She looked at him like she was seeing him for the first time—not as some powerful man who had bought her freedom, not as a walking mystery—but as someone human. Someone broken. Like her.

"I guess this is for the best," she said, her voice still catching breath from her laugh. "From now on, we're team outcasts. What do you say?"

"Sure..." Sylvaris said quietly.

He didn't have anything clever to add. No flirtation, no snide remark, no layered arrogance. Just that single word—and a smile.

An honest smile.

He wasn't used to this kind of peace. This kind of connection. But somehow, standing under the stars beside this strange, radiant girl who had gone from slave to partner in less than a day, he felt something stir inside him.

For the first time, he didn't feel alone.

And maybe now... he was beginning to understand why his heart had screamed for her the moment he saw her. Why he had reached into his vault and paid the price without thinking.

Maybe Iselynne wasn't just another woman.

Maybe she was the key—the one capable of unlocking the cold, sealed heart he had buried so deep, even he had forgotten it was there.