Harem System In A fantasy World - Chapter 101: Vanished

Chapter 101: Vanished

Just to have her to himself one time, he had been willing to sabotage her mission, destroy her reputation, hunt her down, and kill her afterward under the excuse of guild rules. The realization made her stomach churn. She had truly underestimated how vile men could be!

“Bind her hands and feet,” Utah said calmly as he tossed a long piece of rope forward. “Then tie her tightly to the tree with her ass to me.”

Zenovia gritted her teeth and tried to stand, using the tree for support. Pain lanced through her body immediately. Her left arm hung uselessly at her side. Her left leg was broken at the shin.

Her right leg had snapped at the thigh. Her shoulder was dislocated, and blood continued to flow from the deep gash across her forehead. Only her right hand was somewhat functional, and even then, she could feel that her shoulder had dislocated.

The situation was hopeless.

Yet as the two men approached, Zenovia lifted her head and glared at them with burning eyes, her sharp teeth still bared.

Her body was broken.

But her resolve remained unshaken.

However, despite the unyielding strength of her mind, Zenovia’s body had reached its limit.

“Argggghhh!” She thrashed weakly as they closed in, kicking with whatever strength remained, the movement sending white-hot agony through her shattered legs.

The pair snickered, their smiles twisting into leers as they dodged her flailing feet. The burly one with the scarred cheek lunged low, snatching her ankle with a meaty hand while she snarled like a cornered wolf.

“Hold still, you wildcat,” he grunted as he bound her ankles together, as the rope bit into her skin. Then her wrists were forced onto the tree, bound just as securely, before the rope was looped around the tree trunk and pulled taut, fixing her in place.

Throughout it all, the men snickered and whispered to one another, their smiles sharp and ugly.

Utah watched it all from a short distance away, his expression one of open anticipation, his mouth slack, a thin line of drool escaping the corner of his lips as he stared at her bound form—like a starving man before a feast he could finally devour.

Yet even his subordinates knew better than to cross a certain line. They kept their hands strictly to the task, avoiding any unnecessary groping. Utah was possessive in a way that made even seasoned killers uneasy.

They knew the rules—what was his was his alone until he gave the goods away, and impatience had a habit of costing fingers.

“Good work, boys,” he murmured, voice husky with lust. “Step aside now. She’s mine first.”

When they finally stepped back, Utah approached slowly, his boots crunching on the fallen leaves, eyes locked on Zenovia’s exquisite body—her narrow waist flaring to wide hips, her long legs now helpless, her doll-like face twisted in fury.

She wrenched her neck back awkwardly, the elegant line of her throat exposed, glaring at him with eyes that could scorch the earth. Her lips trembled, not from fear, but from the storm of rage boiling within her.

His cock twitched visibly in his pants, but he held back, savoring the anticipation.

“Relax, Zenovia,” Utah said calmly, his voice low and almost gentle. “I’m no animal. I want you to enjoy this as much as I will.”

Her response was instant and visceral. She hawked and spat, a glob of saliva mixed with her blood splattering across his cheek, warm and sticky against his skin.

He paused dead in his tracks.

Zenovia snickered. For a brief moment, she thought she had finally succeeded in provoking him.

Instead, his grin widened.

He chuckled low in his throat. Slowly and deliberately, his tongue darted out, licking at the mess on his face—tasting her blood and her spit, savoring the metallic tang and the salty texture. He licked it clean, his eyes never leaving hers, the act sending a shiver of revulsion through her.

“You are disgusting!” Zenovia snarled, her glare intensifying, those smoldering emeralds narrowing to slits. Even bound and bleeding, her beauty shone fierce—cheeks streaked with crimson.

Utah closed the distance, planting himself right behind her, his body heat radiating against her chilled skin. One hand clamped onto her slender waist, fingers digging into the solid bone of her side through the suit, feeling the rapid flutter of her pulse.

He leaned in, nose brushing the curve of her neck, inhaling her scent—sweat, blood, and the wild musk of a beastwoman. His other hand seized her chin, rough calluses scraping her bloody jaw as he forced her face toward his, locking their gazes.

She stared back at him, unblinking, even as her expression contorted in pure venom. If looks could kill, he’d have crumpled a hundred times over, her emerald eyes promising vengeance.

This only fueled Utah’s laughter, a deep, rumbling sound that vibrated against her skin. “You know, there’s nothing more satisfying than breaking a strong spirit like yours into submission. Tell me,” he murmured, his breath hot on her lips. “Are all beastwomen this feisty? Or are you just special?”

Zenovia said nothing, her jaw clenched even tighter under his grip, refusing to dignify him with words. Even as she felt the hand on her waist slide lower, and a finger tracing the curve of her hips, and slowly approach the swell of her ass, she didn’t make a sound.

The only sound she made was her breath coming in heavy, ragged heaves, her chest rising and falling so fiercely it might have intimidated a lesser man. Her rage poured, but it was ll useless.

Utah only seemed to enjoy it more.

“Yes,” he said, straightening at last. “Very special indeed.”

Just as Utah’s hand moved from her waist toward the fastenings of his bodysuit, intent clear and disgusting in his eyes, the ground beneath all of them suddenly flared to life.

A brilliant surge of light exploded upward from the forest floor, flooding the clearing in blinding white and gold. Intricate runes ignited beneath their feet, lines of mana snapping into place with perfect precision as a fully formed teleportation circle activated in a single, decisive instant.

None of them had sensed it in time. The magic was too clean, too fast, too absolute. Utah swore in sudden panic, his grip on Zenovia breaking as instinct took over and he stumbled backward, eyes wide as the light swallowed everything.

For a heartbeat, the world ceased to exist.

Then the light vanished.

The clearing was empty.

No men, no blood and no broken branches or trampled leaves.

Even the scuffed earth where they had stood was smooth once more, as if untouched by conflict or struggle.

The tree Zenovia had been bound to stood tall and silent, its bark unmarked, the ropes gone, her blood gone, her presence erased so completely that it was as though she had never been there at all.

The forest returned to its natural stillness, moonlight filtering gently through the vast canopy.

Whatever force had intervened had done so with terrifying precision.

And whoever had been taken—

Had been taken far away.