Kael didn't remember walking out of the dungeon.
The last thing he recalled was collapsing against the Sacred Pillow, clutching it the way a dying soldier might cling to a lover's hand, whispering with his final breath: "Never leave me."
Then—blur.
Now he was sprawled in the grass outside the cavern, sunlight washing over him, birdsong filling the air, and drool steadily soaking into the pillow's impossibly soft surface.
And for one glorious moment—one fleeting, radiant instant—Kael believed he had finally achieved it.
Peace.
No waifus shrieking bloody murder above his ribcage. No claws raking across his back mid-argument. No forked tail slipping under his blanket at ungodly hours. Just quiet.
The air smelled of wildflowers and fresh grass, touched by the faint perfume of blooming clover. The cicadas hummed drowsily in the trees. The Sacred Pillow itself seemed to exhale calm, a cool and soothing aura that seeped into Kael's spine until even his bones felt like they were sighing in relief.
This is it, he thought, drifting at the edge of sleep. My heaven. My sanctuary. A nap without casualties.
"Kael."
poke.
"Kael."
poke poke.
His eyelid cracked open—and the dream shattered like glass dropped on stone.
Three shadows loomed above him. Three pairs of eyes burned down with varying mixtures of annoyance, amusement, and something much hungrier.
Selvara crouched closest, her crimson tail flicking back and forth with a predator's patience, lips curved into a smirk sharp enough to cut. "Mmm… so vulnerable. You look good with your mouth hanging open like that." Her forked tongue flicked over her teeth as though she were considering whether to kiss him or bite him.
Beside her, Lysera wrung her hands, her pale cheeks flaming red. Her golden hair was still mussed from their dungeon battle, strands clinging stubbornly to her damp forehead. "M-My lord," she stammered, eyes wide with scandalized horror, "it is most unbecoming to… to drool upon such a holy relic!"
Behind them, Rhyla stood like a granite wall, scarred arms folded, her armor still streaked with dust. Her scowl could have cut steel. "Pathetic. The so-called 'Overlord of Lust' whimpers over bedding while warriors sharpen their blades. If you were my commander, I'd—"
Kael shoved his face back into the pillow and let loose a muffled scream that probably startled every bird in the forest.
---
The system chose that exact moment to chime, its merciless, cheerfully neutral voice drilling straight into his skull:
[Warning: Harem Capacity increased to 6. New candidate approaching.]
Kael froze. His eyes widened in disbelief. "…No."
[Yes.]
"…NO."
[Yes.]
He jerked upright so violently his neck popped like an old hinge. Clutching the pillow against his chest, he wailed, "I haven't even recovered from three! You think I can handle another one?! I'm one jealous argument away from being murdered in my sleep!"
Selvara's smirk deepened until it practically glowed with malicious delight. "Another waifu?" she purred, her eyes gleaming. "Ohhh, this day just keeps getting better. I wonder what kind she'll be~."
Rhyla grunted, her gauntleted fingers already curling around the hilt of her sword. A wicked grin split her scarred face. "Good. More competition means more culling." The word culling rolled from her tongue like it was the sweetest promise she'd ever spoken.
Lysera gasped as though stabbed, her delicate hands flying to her chest and clasping tightly, knuckles pale with strain. "N-No! We cannot possibly survive another rival in this den of… of iniquity!" Her voice cracked between horror and prayer. "My lord, you must refuse her advances at once, before sin multiplies further!"
Kael curled tighter around his Sacred Pillow, clutching it like a sailor clinging to driftwood in a storm. His eyes bulged, his voice rose to a pitiful wail. "Why is everything in this world horny?! Can't someone just—just once—want to play chess with me?!"
The meadow didn't answer in words.
It answered with a rumble.
A steady thud… thud… thud rolled out from the forest depths. Each impact was deliberate, heavier than the heartbeat Kael suddenly heard pounding in his ears. Birds exploded out of the canopy in a panicked storm of wings, their shrieks piercing the air as they fled. The sunlight itself seemed to flinch, dimming as a vast shadow stretched long and ominous across the clearing.
The waifus tensed. Kael's grip on his pillow grew desperate.
And then—she arrived.
She stepped from the trees not as though she entered the meadow, but as though the world had rehearsed her arrival, every ray of sunlight arranged, every rustle of leaves choreographed for her stage.
A towering figure.
Her armor was gold and crimson, burnished to a shine that nearly blinded him, plates clinging to her body in ways that looked designed for intimidation—or seduction—but never protection. Across her bronzed collarbone lay the pale slash of an old scar, a flaw that only drew the eye further to the skin it marred. Long obsidian hair spilled down her back like a midnight river, shifting with each step as though the strands themselves obeyed some silent command.
And her eyes—
Crimson, sharp as blades, glowing faintly like embers on the verge of ignition. They locked onto Kael the instant she emerged, fixing him in place, pinning him like prey.
Kael's stomach dropped clear through the earth. "…Oh gods. It's happening again."
She advanced with the slow grace of a predator who knew the kill was inevitable. When she halted, the ground quivered faintly beneath her boots. With one smooth motion she planted her weapon into the soil—a halberd taller than Kael, its crescent blade wrapped in glowing runes that pulsed in rhythm with her heartbeat. The red silk coiled around the shaft fluttered in the breeze, writhing almost like living flesh.
Then she tilted her chin ever so slightly, lips curving into a smirk that could have belonged to a queen or an executioner.
"So." Her voice was a velvet growl, low and deliberate, curling around Kael's spine like smoke. "You're the one chosen by the Divine Libido System."
Kael's fingers spasmed around his pillow until the knuckles whitened. His voice broke into a squeak as he scooted backward through the grass, tearing up clumps in his frantic retreat. "Nope. Wrong guy. My name's—uh—Bale. Kale. Mail. Definitely not Kael."
The system, merciless as always, ignored his pleas.
[New Candidate Detected: Aurelia, Crimson Warlord.]
[Compatibility: 93%.]
[Warning: Strong chance of immediate violence. Approach with caution.]
Kael shrieked, his voice cracking like a boy half his age. "NINETY-THREE PERCENT?! SHE LOOKS LIKE SHE EATS MEN FOR BREAKFAST!"
Selvara's forked tail curled upward into a perfect heart, swishing lazily behind her like a cat toying with prey. Her crimson eyes gleamed, and her tongue flicked briefly across her lips as if tasting the air. "Mmm, a warlord, is it?" she purred, voice dripping with delight. "Strong. Dominant. Commanding." Her smirk widened as she leaned closer to Kael, her breath hot against his ear. "Kael, darling… if you don't claim her, I will."
Rhyla scoffed, the sound low and sharp, before drawing her blade with a metallic shhhrrring that split the tension like lightning. The steel caught the sunlight, flashing dangerously. She stepped forward, stance coiled, every muscle primed. "Finally. Someone worth crossing swords with. None of your squabbling pillow fights—let me test her mettle."
Lysera nearly collapsed under the weight of it all. She clutched her staff to her chest like a shield, her knees buckling, her face pale with panic. "No! We—we mustn't! She's clearly a…" her voice cracked, "…a heathen barbarian woman! She'll corrupt us all with her… her armor and… and sins!" Her golden hair tumbled forward as she shook her head wildly, looking ready to faint.
But Aurelia barely acknowledged them.
Her smirk widened, crimson eyes never leaving Kael. She shifted her stance, casually leaning her full weight on the halberd, the weapon's blade still thrumming faintly with runes. The motion made the polished gold and crimson armor creak—an intoxicating, dangerous sound—as her chest strained against its confines, threatening to defy gravity itself. The meadow seemed to hush, holding its breath with her.
"You're noisy," Aurelia said at last, her voice flat, dismissive, a queen addressing insects. She flicked her gaze over Selvara, Rhyla, Lysera in a single glance before returning, sharp as a blade, to Kael. "But you—" she lifted the halberd's shaft and jabbed it toward him, the gesture crackling with command, "—you're mine."
Her smirk curved sharper, predatory, hungry. Her voice dropped into a growl that reverberated in his bones. "I don't care what this ridiculous system claims. I've crushed kings. Toppled demons. Conquered kingdoms… but never an Overlord of Lust."
The air grew heavier. Her eyes burned hotter.
"I will conquer you…" she whispered, lips curling in sinful promise, "…and then you will conquer me."
Kael's heart stopped, his grip on the Sacred Pillow slipped, and he fainted dead away.