The next morning came not with sunlight, but with the shriek of war horns echoing through the mountain walls. Ryon jolted upright on his too-soft bed, heart hammering in his chest.
For a fleeting second, he thought the battle had followed him into this world.
Then the door burst open.
A girl, tall and draped in scaled black armor, stepped into his chamber. Her expression was unreadable beneath her dark crimson helm. Behind her, several other girls in varying degrees of ceremonial armor peered in.
None of them looked friendly.
The one in front spoke first.
"The cursed boy walks. The High Sister wants him presented."
Before Ryon could respond, she tossed a bundle of clothing at his chest—a simple robe, dark violet with silver trim—and turned to leave.
He dressed in silence, uneasy. The System's last message burned in his mind.
> First Candidate: Seyna of Ironflame. Danger Level – Moderate.
He had no idea who Seyna was—but he had a sinking feeling she'd be one of them.
The House of a Hundred Sisters was not just a title—it was a fortress-city, carved into the bones of a mountain. Pillars of obsidian rose like claws into the sky. Halls twisted and coiled like veins, filled with women of every age, shape, and battle rank. Some were barefoot and cloaked in prayer; others sparred shirtless in heated training arenas.
And not a single man in sight—except him.
Eyes followed him as he walked behind the armored escort. Some full of disgust. Others full of curiosity. A few... unsettlingly curious.
They whispered as he passed:
"That's him?"
"He's smaller than I imagined."
"The curseborn walks again."
"What's the Matriarch going to do with him this time?"
He tried to keep his posture straight. His face calm.
Inside, he was screaming.
Eventually, they reached an open courtyard—a stone circle with runes carved into the floor and weapons embedded in the walls.
At its center stood Lyria, waiting.
Beside her was someone else.
She was taller than him by a head, wearing silver armor etched with crimson veins. A long black braid hung over one shoulder. She held a twin-bladed spear in one hand and an apple in the other, which she casually bit into as he approached.
Her eyes were silver. Sharp. Calculating.
"So this is the replacement," she said without looking at him. "Doesn't seem like much."
Ryon opened his mouth, but Lyria interrupted before he could speak.
"Ryon, meet Seyna. First daughter of Ironflame. Champion of the Blood Arena. She has agreed to test you."
Seyna smirked. "Test? I agreed to break him. If he survives, he can stay."
> System Update: Seyna of Ironflame – Potential Wife Candidate Identified.
Initial Compatibility: 23%
Bond Progress: 0%
Warning: Combat trial imminent.
Ryon blinked. "Wait—combat?!"
"Duel," Lyria said flatly. "If you want to live here under my protection, they need to see you fight."
Seyna grinned and twirled her spear. "Don't worry, Curseborn. I won't kill you. Just humiliate you enough that no one else dares try."
The sisters surrounding the courtyard began to cheer. Some clapped. Others placed bets.
Ryon felt cold sweat trickle down his back.
He didn't even have a weapon.
> System Offer: Summon Bound Weapon?
[Yes] – Unlocks your soul-forged armament.
[No] – Fight unarmed.
He didn't hesitate. Yes.
A shock of heat surged through his arm. A bright light formed in his palm, twisting, solidifying.
When it faded, he was holding a weapon he had never seen—but instantly understood.
A glaive. Slim. Lightweight. Northern craftsmanship fused with Southern curvature. It pulsed faintly with curse energy.
The sisters gasped.
Seyna raised an eyebrow. "Hmm. So the System has gifted you."
She lunged.
She was fast.
Ryon barely dodged the first strike. Her spear cut through the air like lightning, its tip grazing his cheek. He parried the second blow clumsily and ducked under the third.
His instincts screamed. This wasn't training. This was a real fight. Seyna was testing him—not for skill, but for blood.
He focused. Let his magic trickle in.
> [Curse Pulse: Activated]
– Briefly enhances reaction speed and blade clarity.
Their weapons clashed again. Sparks flew.
He spun low, aiming for her knee. She deflected with ease, twisting and slamming her foot into his chest. He went flying across the stone and landed hard.
The crowd roared.
Ryon coughed, struggling to breathe. She's too strong.
Seyna approached slowly, spinning her spear. "Not bad... for a walking curse. But you're predictable."
Then he saw it—an opening.
As she raised the spear for the finishing blow, Ryon activated his only offensive skill:
> [Charm Pulse I: Triggered]
A wave of invisible energy burst from his core. Seyna's body froze mid-motion—just for a second.
It was enough.
Ryon surged forward and slammed the glaive's flat end against her side. She stumbled backward.
The crowd went silent.
Seyna looked down at the bruise forming on her ribs, then up at him. Her eyes were unreadable.
Then she smirked.
"Fine. You can stay."
> System Notification:
[Bond with Seyna initiated. Harem Progress: 1%]
[New Trait Unlocked: Female Aggro Decreased – Level 1]