Harem System In A fantasy World - Chapter 138: Nearby

Chapter 138: Nearby

Duke Dawncrest stood tall and unmoving, his presence suffocating the entire hall. His expression was twisted with fury.

“You useless son!” the Duke roared, his voice reverberating through the chamber. “You dare bring shame to my name by being beaten and humiliated by some nobody peasant?”

William’s jaw trembled as blood seeped between his teeth. He could taste iron.

“Have I taught you nothing?” the Duke continued, taking a step forward. Each footstep echoed heavily.

William gritted his teeth—not in defiance, but to suppress it. He knew better than to let anger show on his face. With his father’s strength, that slap could have crushed his skull if he had wished it.

This had been mercy.

Or perhaps restraint.

Either way, William could not afford to provoke him further.

“I—I’m sorry, Father,” William said quickly, forcing himself to kneel despite the dizziness in his head. “He was supposed to have died.”

The Duke’s eyes narrowed.

“In the Great Dungeon,” William continued hurriedly, voice trembling, “I pushed him to the lower floors myself. No one survives that depth. But somehow… he returned.”

He swallowed hard.

“He must have found some fortuitous encounter. Some hidden treasure or inheritance that raised his talent.”

The Duke’s expression darkened further.

“You even tried to kill him,” he said slowly, his voice colder now. “And you failed.”

William felt the air grow heavier.

He realized, too late, that he had miscalculated.

Confessing the attempt was meant to show that this Elion was no ordinary person, but a variable that he could have never prepared himself for.

Instead, it had poured oil on the flames.

The Duke’s aura surged outward violently, cracking the marble beneath his feet.

“You incompetent fool,” he growled.

William lowered his head instantly, pressing his forehead against the cold floor.

“I gave you resources. Protection. Opportunity. And you still allowed a commoner to rise above you.”

The Duke’s presence bore down on him like a mountain.

“Not only that,” he continued, “you created an enemy you could not finish.”

William’s heart pounded violently in his chest.

He had thought the slap would be the end of it.

But his father’s anger had not cooled.

William pressed his forehead harder against the marble floor.

“Father, please,” he said quickly, his voice shaking but desperate. “Give me one more chance. I will fix this mistake. I swear it.”

Duke Dawncrest stood over him in silence, his aura still heavy enough to make breathing difficult.

“You will fix it?” the Duke asked coldly.

“Yes,” William replied at once. “I will personally deal with him. I won’t fail again.”

For a long moment, the hall remained silent except for William’s uneven breathing.

Then the Duke spoke.

“You will be punished.”

William’s body stiffened.

“But,” the Duke continued, “I will grant you leniency if you fix this.”

Hope flickered faintly in William’s chest.

“You will correct this embarrassment first,” the Duke said, his tone sharp as a blade. “You will erase this stain from your name. If you fail again…”

His voice dropped lower.

“There will be hell to pay.”

William swallowed.

“I understand, Father.”

The Duke’s eyes narrowed as he studied his kneeling son.

“Why,” he asked slowly, “can you not be more like your elder brother?”

The words hit harder than the slap.

William’s fingers curled tightly against the floor.

His elder brother.

Perfect in magic. Perfect in conduct. Perfect in strategy. The pride of the Dawncrest name.

William had heard that comparison his entire life.

Why can’t you be like him?

Why don’t you learn from him?

Why are you always behind him?

It was like a shadow following him wherever he went! He bit down hard enough to taste more blood, forcing the anger down.

“I will not disappoint you again,” he said through clenched teeth.

The Duke looked at him for a moment longer, then turned away.

“See that you don’t.”

His footsteps echoed through the vast hall as he walked toward the exit without another word. The doors opened and closed behind him with a heavy thud, leaving William alone in the enormous chamber.

Silence returned.

William slowly lifted his head.

His cheek throbbed. His pride burned far worse.

“That bastard…” he muttered under his breath, though it was unclear whether he meant Elion or his elder brother.

He pushed himself up slowly, wiping the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand.

He would fix this.

He had to.

Because next time, his father would not hold back.

…

Elion, completely unaware of the storms brewing in other cities because of him, finally woke from a long and heavy sleep with a loud rumble in his stomach.

By the time the sun had risen high, he was seated at the large dining table inside the manor, eating heartily. The table was wide enough to host a banquet, yet at the moment it held only three people.

Esme and Ophelia sat across from him.

Or rather, they were supposed to.

Neither of them had touched the food placed before them. Instead, they were watching him with strange expressions—half amused, half hungry in a way that had nothing to do with the meal.

Earlier, they had both attempted to sit on his lap at the same time.

He had firmly told them to sit properly.

He knew exactly how that kind of contact would end, especially with two succubi who were no longer pretending to hide their nature. If he allowed them too much freedom, things would spiral quickly.

They would end up sucking him dry once again. They had relented, though not without playful smiles.

Now they leaned forward slightly in their seats, elbows resting lightly on the table, eyes following every movement he made.

Elion ripped a hearty bite from the turkey drumstick, the juices glistening on his lips as he chewed, feigning ignorance of their predatory stares.

They traced the bob of his Adam’s apple, the flex of his biceps, dipping lower to where his trousers hugged the dormant bulge of his cock, still tender from their recent marathons of pounding and creaming.

After swallowing, he cleared his throat.

“So,” he began evenly, “what are you two planning to do now?”

They perked up, spines straightening to thrust their chests higher, Ophelia’s massive breasts jiggling softly with the motion.

“You’ve found me,” he continued. “But I can’t just leave the academy. I’m not abandoning my goals just because you want to make babies.”

He set the drumstick down and looked between them.

“It should be enough that you’ve confirmed I exist, and that I have accepted you, no?”

Esme shot a quick, conspiratorial look to Ophelia, her tongue darting out to wet her plump lower lip.

“Yes. We never intended to drag you away from your responsibilities,” Ophelia said smoothly.

“And our Goddess did not instruct us to force you into anything, but to serve you and do as you instruct,” Esme added with a faint smile.

Elion narrowed his eyes slightly.

“That’s reassuring.”

Ophelia propped her chin on one hand, the pose pushing her colossal tits up further, nearly spilling from her bodice, the creamy swells quivering with her steady breaths. “For now, though, we simply intend to remain nearby.”

“Nearby? What about your other sisters?” he asked.

Esme nodded. “I hate to leave them hanging. But they can wait. We want to stay close to you. Close enough to assist, and close enough to observe.”

“And close enough to ensure our champion does not die foolishly,” Ophelia tossed in casually, but her tone dripped with possession, her foot—bare and warm—brushing his calf under the table, sending a jolt straight through his body.

Elion sighed and leaned back in his chair, trying his best to resist the stimulation.