Reincarnated as an Evil Harem God

The group stood in silence, watching the nun lie sprawled on the floor — cum still dripping from her parted lips. None of them cared. Not even a little.

They just stared down at her, amused.Something dark shimmered in all their eyes.

"I think that's enough welcoming for today," Sylvaris said casually. "Let's get dressed and head into town for a short walk. She can rest here."

He reached down and scooped Lilith into his arms, cradling her limp, ruined body with surprising gentleness.

His cock, freshly cleaned by Liraeth, who had taken a shameless lick of his softening giant, was already tucked back into his pants. The moment had been quick, but Faylira had nearly lost control watching it.

She had wanted to be first. She should have been first.

But the elf got to taste him again. And all she could do now was glare at Liraeth with burning envy and aching need.

Neither of them had time to do more — Sylvaris had already pulled up his pants and walked past them, carrying the broken nun toward the bed.

Something was different today. He looked calm. Too calm. Somewhat unnaturally restrained.

Why isn't he fucking us already? That was the thought both girls had.

Was he sick?

No. He was thinking. Planning. Something heavy was sitting on his mind.

So... the Holy Church thinks they can control me just by giving me the woman I want.

Good gift, I won't lie. But if they think I'll devote myself to them... or owe them anything... they're so fucking wrong. I'd sooner let my blade kiss their necks. I know how rotten they are.

My father and grandfather were both heroes. I've heard the tales about how women were used. I never believed them. I thought... It's a holy place. Surely the real god watches over them, right?

But maybe not anymore. Now they do whatever they want. And the rot runs deep.

He glanced back at the bed, watching the nun desperately trying to get up again. Her mouth was still red. Her legs trembled. She could barely breathe properly.

She wasn't going anywhere.

"You stay here, Lilith," he ordered.

But she didn't give up.

"No... I have a duty to fulfill," she said, voice weak but burning. "No matter if you beat me or reward me with your cock…"

The room froze.

Even Liraeth blinked. Faylira bit back a laugh, tails twitching.

"I… I will not leave," Lilith continued stubbornly. "I must stay by your side. Always. Even when you shower… or sleep."

Her eyes shimmered with devotion — but somehow, it looked more like obsession.

Sylvaris narrowed his eyes, amused. She really is turning into a little puppy, isn't she…?

He opened his mouth to reply—

Knock—Knock—KNOCK!

The door shook under the weight of the pounding. It hadn't even been two minutes since Sylvaris had finished in Lilith's throat. The floor was still wet, smeared with her arousal, his seed, and thick trails of saliva.

Everyone went still.

Thankfully, they hadn't been caught. Sylvaris didn't want any other man seeing his women naked, especially not Lilith. She was already his, in his heart. And he wasn't about to share.

"Great Hero! Open the door — it's me, Darian!" A voice like a void crashing open the sky echoed from behind the door. It was deep, commanding, and painfully familiar.

Sylvaris blinked in surprise — a flood of memories crashing into him. Uncle Darian?!

The same man who had trained him in swordplay when his father had been too busy… the old royal guard. Well, not that old — barely in his late forties — but his skills were inhuman, sharp as legend.

"Uncle Darian?!" Sylvaris called back, voice rising. "One second! Wait!"

He spun around. "Girls — quick, quick! Dress up, now! Go, go!"

Liraeth and Faylira jolted into motion, scrambling to gather their clothes and throw them on in record time.

Lilith simply sat down, breath still unsteady. She put on her tattered outfit, hiding her swollen chest, adjusting the torn cloth over her bruised collarbone.

Then something unexpected happened.

She pressed her hands together in prayer, and a soft holy light burst from her palms. A warm, gentle glow washed over her face, trailing down to her mouth, and in mere seconds, the stretched, abused skin healed completely.

Even Sylvaris stared.

Just minutes ago, her lips had been swollen, raw, stretched beyond what should have been repairable. But now? She looked untouched.

Not a single trace of the cock that had ruined her throat remained. Only her missing hood betrayed what had just happened.

Now she sat there like a sulking maiden, no longer the cold, calculating nun, but a strangely soft and shy girl, cheeks pink, eyes downcast.

Sylvaris blinked slowly. I wonder... are women around me all weird... or am I the weird one for not understanding them? He laughed softly to himself — a low chuckle as he turned back to the door.

A moment later, he opened it wide. And in walked a mountain.

A man over two meters tall — built like a war tank in royal armor — stepped into the room, shaking the floor with his presence. The air seemed to freeze.

Without wasting a breath, Darian's voice thundered. "The King summons you home, Great Hero. You have no choice but to accept."

Shit… they found me already. Faster than expected. Sylvaris's golden eyes slid toward Lilith, who sat quietly, pretending to know nothing.

But he wasn't a fool. She still held a grudge. And who else would've told the king where to find him, if not her?

Fine. No — that's great, actually. Now I have even more reason to keep her by my side. I no longer just want to break her…or make her a slave to my cock… No... My dear Lilith… I'm going to make you my wife — whether you want it or not. You'll be mine forever. That's your punishment for this little trick.

"Sure, I'll accept it with open arms," he said smoothly, flashing the man a calm, pleasant smile — one laced with unmistakable cunning.

Truth be told, he missed the capital. The princesses. His family. And especially…his arrogant stepmothers.