Reincarnated as an Evil Harem God

The moment Iselynne saw the cold beauty walking down the street, something inside her twisted. A sharp stab of jealousy burst like a volcano in her chest. She bit her lip, trying to suppress it, but it was there. Obvious. Dangerous.

That woman — tall, graceful, with perfect curves and silver eyes that could freeze even the sun — was trouble. Iselynne could feel it. Trouble for her. Trouble for them.

If someone as tempting as her joined our team… she didn't even want to finish that thought.

So she tried.

She tried to stop it before it started.

"I don't know," Iselynne said, forcing a smile, her voice soft but laced with nervous energy. "She doesn't look too powerful. I still lean toward that big woman with the muscular body. She seemed way stronger for our team, I'll go recruit her now!" She turned, trying to slip away quickly.

But Sylvaris's hand shot out and caught her wrist in an instant — firm, decisive.

His eyes never left the cold beauty.

"No," he said, voice low, controlled, absolute. "My choice is final."

Those words hit Iselynne harder than she expected. She blinked, startled.It was the first time he had spoken to her like that.

So cold… Until now, he had always spoken to her gently. Carefully. Teasingly. But now? It was like a different man was standing beside her — a man whose instincts had fully locked onto a new target, fully consumed by his need to claim.

For a brief moment, her heart sank. She tried not to let it show.

Is this… who he really is? They had only known each other for a few days. And yet, after what they shared last night, she had hoped… maybe foolishly… that he would look at her the same way. That she might be enough.

But she forced the storm inside her down.

No... this is for the team. He just wants strong members for the Battle God Vault… right? That's all this is. She exhaled softly, her forced smile returning.

"Of course, Sylvaris. Your decision."

"Thank you, for trusting me."

But these words… these were the sweet words of a future harem god. Carefully chosen. Soft, but dangerous. And just like that, Iselynne's worries began to melt away. His voice was warm, reassuring, as if reminding her that she was his. That she still held a place no one else could take. It was the kind of gentle sweet talk that made many partners forget their suspicions far too easily — the kind that wrapped around their hearts like silk and made them surrender without even realizing it.

And just like that, Sylvaris reached for her hand—gently, almost tenderly—and pulled her alongside him as he moved toward his next target. On the surface, it looked like nothing more than affection. But in truth, it was calculated. A bait. He knew that having another girl present while approaching Lunara would lower defenses. Most women felt more at ease seeing another woman by a man's side — less threat, more trust.

Meanwhile, in Iselynne's mind, it meant something completely different. She thought he was pulling her close to show everyone that she was his first. His chosen. The one who held the highest position in his heart. She felt her cheeks flush, foolishly believing that this was his way of reminding her that she was irreplaceable.

Sylvaris gently pulled Iselynne along, slipping through the crowd like a shadow weaving through light. The noise of the bustling plaza pulsed around them — merchants shouting, blades clashing, loud adventurers boasting. But for him, it all faded.

His eyes were locked onto her.

The tall, black-cloaked beauty moved gracefully through the crowd, untouched by the chaos surrounding her. Her steps were precise, controlled. The violet lining of her cloak shimmered with every turn, occasionally parting just enough to reveal her toned legs wrapped in tight battle leggings, her silhouette carved like art beneath her fitted corset.

She hadn't noticed him approaching. Or perhaps she had, but simply didn't acknowledge it. Either way, it made her all the more captivating.

As they closed the distance, Sylvaris could feel Iselynne's grip tightening slightly around his hand. He knew why. She felt it too. That quiet threat. That unspoken competition.

He glanced at her briefly and gave her fingers a reassuring squeeze. She relaxed slightly, interpreting his touch as affection. In truth, it was control.

Finally, they stood just a few feet behind the woman. She paused near a weapon stall, seemingly inspecting a few displayed blades, though her sharp silver eyes remained focused ahead, always aware.

Sylvaris stepped forward.

"Forgive my interruption," he began, his voice smooth, low, and utterly composed. "But I couldn't allow this opportunity to pass me by."

She turned her head toward him, her gaze sharp, assessing him instantly with cold precision.

There was no surprise in her expression. She was the kind of woman who expected men to approach — and dismiss them just as easily.

Her silver eyes narrowed slightly. "Opportunity?" Her voice was calm, steady, carrying just the faintest edge of disinterest.

Sylvaris smiled, the very picture of respectful charm.

"Yes," he answered. "I am recruiting for a small, specialized team. And after watching how you carry yourself…" his gaze lowered briefly, scanning her elegant figure—not lingering, not crude, but enough to acknowledge the power she exuded, "...I believe your skillset might align with what I seek."

Her expression didn't change. The crowd swirled around them like a storm, but inside their small circle, only tension remained.

"Plenty of recruiters here today," she replied flatly. "Why approach me?"

Sylvaris tilted his head slightly, his golden eyes gleaming with a faint glint of admiration.

"Because most of them are chasing noise. Reputation. Headcounts. They collect numbers without understanding value." His voice lowered just a bit, intimate despite the public setting. "You stand apart. You're not here to show off. You're here because you have nothing to prove."

That made her pause for half a heartbeat.

Iselynne's eyes flicked between them, unsure where this was heading. But his words were still safe. He wasn't complimenting her beauty, not directly. It was all about her composure. Her discipline. Her strength.

Safe. For now.

The woman studied him carefully, her silver eyes like blades testing for weak points.

"You know nothing about my skills," she said coolly.

"Not yet," Sylvaris agreed. "But I know enough. I know how you hold yourself. The way you walk. The way you've kept your awareness sharp even while pretending to browse these weapons. You've measured everyone in this plaza at least once by now. Haven't you?"

For the first time, something flickered behind her eyes. Amusement? Interest? Maybe both.

"You're observant."

"I try to be." His tone remained light, respectful, but unshakably confident.

Iselynne glanced up at him, her jealousy softening again as she heard him speaking like a tactician. He wasn't flirting. He was analyzing. Professional. Careful.

The woman crossed her arms slowly, tilting her head ever so slightly, still testing.

"What's your team's goal?"

Sylvaris didn't hesitate.

"Efficiency. Strength. And freedom." His voice dropped lower, weaving that silken tone that made most women soften unconsciously. "No guild politics. No puppet masters pulling strings. A group strong enough to move freely, take what we desire, and crush whatever stands in our path."

His golden eyes met hers directly, unblinking.

"You don't strike me as someone who enjoys answering to others."

The slightest curl touched the corner of her lips. Barely there. But he saw it.

Iselynne's fingers squeezed his hand tighter. She could feel the subtle pull happening, but his words still weren't dangerous enough to accuse him.

The woman finally spoke again.

"And why would I trust you?"

Sylvaris smiled. "Because I don't offer you chains. Only the chance to stand alongside others who know their worth."

For several long moments, she said nothing. The plaza's noise filled the silence between them. The world kept moving, but here, everything slowed.

Finally, she extended her hand.

"I don't normally give my name so easily." Her silver eyes held his. "But since you approached so boldly... I am Lunara."

Sylvaris took her hand gently, his fingers wrapping around hers, his golden gaze never leaving her face.

"A beautiful name," he said softly. "And one I hope to speak often."

Lunara's lips twitched again — that almost-smile.

"We'll see."

The words weren't a rejection. They weren't acceptance either. They were an invitation — a test hanging in the air.

And Sylvaris lived for this part.

He held her hand just a moment longer than necessary before releasing it, his touch light, controlled, respectful — but leaving behind a ghost of warmth that lingered in her palm.

"Then allow me to prove myself," he said softly. "We'll be attending the preliminary trials for vault access tomorrow. If you're curious, come watch. See whether I'm worth your time."

Lunara raised one elegant brow, clearly entertained. "Confident."

"Only when I have reason to be," he replied smoothly.

A flicker of interest passed through her eyes again — faint, but unmistakable.

Then she turned, her cloak swirling behind her as she disappeared back into the bustling crowd without another word, leaving only the lingering echo of her perfume hanging in the air.

Sylvaris stood there for a moment, watching the direction she vanished, his golden eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

She'll come. He could feel it. That pulse beneath her cold exterior. That buried curiosity. The first crack had already formed.

Beside him, Iselynne exhaled quietly, watching his face.

"Do you really think she'll join us?" she asked softly.

Sylvaris smiled faintly, his voice like a whisper meant only for himself.

"She will."