My Taboo Harem! - Chapter 401: The Melody of the Void Dragon

Chapter 401: The Melody of the Void Dragon

The three legacy princes lay in a twitching, blood-slicked heap on the cold marble, limbs already twisted into grotesque, unnatural shapes, faces pulped beyond recognition.

Their bodies glistened with layers of sweat, piss, blood clot vomits, and fresh crimson that steamed in the rapidly dropping temperature. They were still conscious — barely — eyes wide and rolling with animal panic, exactly as Phei intended.

He stood over them for a moment, head tilted, humming softly to the icy melody only he could hear.

Then he stepped forward again.

Anderson first.

Phei knelt, took the boy’s already-dislocated right arm, and began to twist it further — slow, deliberate circles, forcing the ball of the humerus deeper out of the socket until the skin split wider and the bone bulged like a grotesque tumour under the torn flesh.

He kept going, rotating the entire limb until the tendons tore with wet, elastic snaps, one after another.

Anderson’s body convulsed violently, mouth gaping in a raw, shredded scream — “AAAIIIEEEEE!” — a high, tearing wail that ripped into high, keening sobs, tears mixing with the blood pouring from his ruined face.

Phei watched the crying without expression, colder than the marble beneath them, and moved to the fingers next. One by one he gripped each digit, bent it backward until the knuckle popped, then kept bending until the bone snapped like green wood.

Each snap drew a fresh, staccato shriek — “AH! AH! AH!” — from Anderson’s throat.

He did the same to every finger on both hands, then the thumbs — crushing them flat under his heel with slow, grinding pressure until the bones powdered.

The final crush pulled a long, guttural howl — “GRRRAAAAAHHH–” — that cracked midway into sobbing gasps.

Anderson’s hands were now limp, mangled sacks of meat and splintered bone.

The legs received the same treatment. Phei planted a foot on Anderson’s pelvis, grabbed the already-dislocated right ankle, and wrenched the entire leg outward in a full spiral.

The hip joint ground audibly, cartilage shredding, until the femur head sheared partially free — unleashing a deep, bellowing scream — “UUUURRRRGGHHH!” — that vibrated through his chest.

He repeated it on the left leg, then stomped down on both knees — once, twice, three times — until the patellae shattered and jagged bone fragments punched through the skin from the inside.

Each stomp was accompanied by a fresh, wet crunch and another choked, animal scream — “KHHHAA!” — that dissolved into ragged, weeping gasps.

Phei hummed louder, perfectly in tune.

Zack tried to roll away, leaving a smeared trail of blood and urine.

Phei stepped on his spin, pinning him flat, and began the same methodical destruction on the remaining intact joints.

He dislocated the already-ruined shoulders even further, forcing the arms behind Zack’s back until the shoulder blades ground against each other with a sickening grind — dragging a hoarse, ripping scream

—“RRRAAAAGH!” — from deep in Zack’s lungs.

Then the fingers — every single one bent backward and snapped, each crack producing a sharp, piercing yelp — “YIP! YIP! YIIIP!” — that chained into the next. The nails tearing free as Phei crushed them under his thumb elicited a thin, desperate shriek — “EEEEIII!”.

Toes next: he stomped on each one individually, feeling the small bones turn to paste beneath his sole; every stomp summoned a fresh, broken scream — “GAHH!”.

When Zack’s limbs were completely useless, Phei grabbed both ankles and pulled the legs apart until the hips dislocated wider than human anatomy allowed, tearing the groin muscles with audible rips.

Zack’s body arched so hard his spine nearly snapped. A thin, broken wail tore out of him — “Please… mercy…” — the words bubbling through blood and snot before they drowned in fresh, guttural sobs and raw screams — “HHHUUUURRRGH!”

— of pure pain.

Phei didn’t even glance at his face. The plea simply made the humming dip into something sharper, icier.

Aiden was still trying to form words — lips moving in desperate, bloody shapes: “My father… will kill you… skin you alive… beg for death…”

Phei saw the threats. He simply smiled, cold and serene — the smile of someone who had already decided long ago that no Montgomery would ever arrive in time — and hummed louder so the melody drowned out even the shape of their mouths.

He took Aiden’s arms and folded them backward at the elbows until the joints dislocated again, then kept folding until the bones splintered in multiple places — each splinter forcing a jagged, choking scream that rose and fell like a dying siren.

He did the same to the legs — hips wrenched until the pelvis cracked audibly, summoning a deep, animal howl; knees stomped until they folded inward like broken hinges, each impact producing a wet, explosive shriek — “BLAHHH!”.

Then the toes and fingers, crushed one by one, the small bones turning to gravel under deliberate, repeated stomps — every crush met with a sharp, involuntary scream or a long, shuddering wail — “WAAAAAHHH–”.

Halfway through the fingers Aiden’s voice cracked into something pitiful: “Stop — God please stop —”before it shattered into wordless, hiccupping cries and raw, throat-tearing screams— that shook his whole broken frame.

Phei’s expression never flickered. He simply pressed his heel down harder on the next knuckle.

When all three boys were nothing but twitching, mangled meat — every major joint dislocated, every long bone broken in at least two places, every finger and toe reduced to pulp — Phei wasn’t finished.

He began the second round of breaks.

He stomped on Anderson’s already-shattered knees until the bones ground into dust inside the skin — each heavy impact wrenching a hoarse, bubbling scream — “BLURRGHH!” — from what was left of Anderson’s voice.

He twisted Zack’s ruined hips until the femurs snapped completely free of the pelvis, the jagged ends tearing through muscle and skin — pulling one last, deep, guttural howl— that faded into wet choking.

He grabbed Aiden’s mangled arms, one after the other, and bent them until the bones splintered into three, four, five pieces each, the skin stretching and splitting like overripe fruit— every new fracture accompanied by a piercing, exhausted scream— that cracked into silence.

Every break was followed by another dislocation— forcing the shattered fragments back out of alignment, grinding them against each other, making the damage so catastrophic that even the best surgeons in the world would never restore function.

The boys no longer made human sounds — only wet, continuous keening and faint, ragged echoes of earlier screams, the kind that came from bodies too ruined to do anything else but weep and tremble.

They produced wet, gurgling, high-pitched keening — the kind of noise that belonged to dying animals being slowly eaten alive. Their bodies flopped and convulsed in helpless spasms, piss and blood and tears mixing on the freezing marble.

Eyes rolled white, foam bubbled from ruined mouths, and every breath was a wet, choking rattle.

Phei stepped back, still humming, black frost now coating the walls in thick, glittering sheets. Their blood steamed violently where it touched the ice.

He looked down at the three ruined, twitching wrecks— once proud, untouchable legacy princes— now reduced to broken, piss-soaked, screaming meat that would never walk, never fight, never rape again.

His voice, when it came, was soft, almost affectionate, perfectly in rhythm with the cold melody in his ears.

“You will never touch what is mine again.”

He cracked his knuckles once more.

The sound rang through the frozen room like a death knell.

Part three was finished.

And still… there was more.

Phei stood motionless for a long second, black frost curling thicker from his shoulders, the entire bedroom now so cold that every shallow, ragged breath the three boys took turned into visible clouds of steam.

Their ruined bodies twitched and jerked on the marble, limbs splayed at impossible angles, every joint dislocated, every major bone broken in multiple places, blood and piss pooling beneath them in steaming puddles.

He tilted his head, still humming softly to the icy melody only he could hear—now slower, almost tender, as if the tune itself were feeding on their fear.

Then he stepped forward and knelt slowly between Anderson and Zack— one knee on the freezing marble, the other pressing lightly, then deliberately heavier, on the edge of Anderson’s shattered pelvis until fresh cracks spiderwebbed through the already-pulverized bone.

Anderson’s breath hitched in a wet, aborted gasp; the pressure ground jagged fragments deeper into muscle.

Anderson’s eye widened in fresh, animal terror as he saw Phei’s hands come together in front of him.

Phei’s palms faced each other. A single, perfect snowflake of pure black ice formed between them— then another, and another— spinning, fusing, lengthening with glacial patience.

He let each new flake linger a heartbeat longer than necessary, watching the boys’ eyes track the impossible formation. The temperature dropped another ten degrees in an instant. The air itself seemed to scream as moisture froze mid-flight.

The dagger took shape.

It was a thing of nightmare beauty.