Champion Of Lust: Gods Conquer's Harem Paradise!

Dracula's descent toward the convoy was nothing short of theatrical. Cloak billowing like storm clouds, mist curling at his feet, he floated down with the same smug confidence he had carried through the portal.

But then—he felt it.

A shift. No, a weight.

The moment his crimson gaze locked on the three figures waiting by the convoy, the atmosphere changed. The mist clinging to him faltered.

The lead figure, a man standing just ahead of the other two, was dressed in flawless black, no armor, no weapons visible. Yet he stood there like a statue carved from reality itself, sharp features calm but unreadable. His eyes—icy silver, cold as death—cut straight through Dracula's presence, through his performance, without so much as a blink.

Song.

The Second in Command of the Phantoms.

Dracula's stride almost... almost hesitated.

The flare of his power, so bold just moments ago, met something ancient and deeper. Even Valerie was surprised that her father was backing down.

A presence that didn't announce itself with flashy aura tricks. It just was.

A hum in the fabric of existence.

The two Phantoms flanking Song, equally silent, equally unmoving, didn't need to react. They didn't have to. They were beyond such things.

The Vampire Lord's crimson eyes narrowed, lips pressing into a tight line. His mind worked fast—too fast to show on his face—but the realization settled like a bitter taste.

He had brought his own "phantoms" guards.

But these?

These were the real deal.

The kind of beings who didn't need to show their power because they were power. The kind he could feel watching him, measuring him, judging him. This is why he always hesitated to do anything like confronting House Obsidian.

Song tilted his head slightly, pale gaze unwavering. The faintest—faintest—twitch at the corner of his lips, something between mockery and indifference.

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"Is that all?" Song finally spoke, voice calm, but sharp enough to cut through the tension like a blade.

Dracula's pride flared, but his mask held.

Barely.

The arrogant smirk returned, smoother this time, measured. He adjusted the cuff of his velvet sleeve as if the exchange hadn't rattled him. Without a word, Dracula swept into the car, his cloak folding perfectly behind him as he sank into the leather seat.

The doors shut with a quiet click.

The convoy pulled away, engines low and smooth, slicing through the silence.

But even as the cars disappeared into the distance, the weight of Song's presence lingered.

Emberly had chosen him. Personally as she was with the Loli Goddess now. The too had given Song a rare command: Escort Dracula.

And now, Song understood exactly why. Someone needed to keep this arrogant vampire on a leash.

_____

In another portal station. The portal ripped apart.

A jagged tear in space, dark crimson and pitch black, spiraling violently as if reality of space magic itself was struggling to contain what was coming through. The energy pouring out was pure chaos—primal, ancient, and far too overwhelming to be natural.

And then they stepped through.

The Chaos Demons of Beginning.

Four figures emerged, each more breathtaking—and terrifying—than the last.

The first was a man... Tall. Ageless. Yet appearing to be in his early thirties, though anyone with a hint of supernatural awareness could feel the lie in that form. His aura didn't just leak—it crushed. It pressed into the air, distorting space, making the very ground seem to ripple.

His skin was flawless, pale with a faint glow of molten red beneath the surface, like his very blood was burning with power. Two long, curved horns protruded from his midnight-black hair, sharp and gleaming with a dark polish. His eyes—solid pools of deep gold, no pupils, no mercy—glowed faintly.

His suit was modern but touched with something regal. Midnight silk, embroidered with faint sigils that seemed to shift if you looked too long. He walked with the confidence of a being who had long since stopped measuring himself against mortals.

His aura howled without sound. Ruin, the sovereign of the demon realm, a Chaos Demon Of Beginning.

The second beside him was a figure nearly as striking, but younger—late teens, perhaps.

But it was a lie.

He was no less dangerous.

His beauty was blinding. Silver hair cascading down to his back, gleaming as if woven from moonlight itself. His horns were shorter, curling upward like a prince's crown. His skin? Flawless, radiant like polished marble, except faint traces of violet veins pulsed along his neck—a subtle, cruel reminder of what he was.

He didn't bother suppressing his power. No.

It roared from him in waves, a pulsing aura of chaos and raw temptation that seemed to ripple through the air, making the space around him seem slightly distorted. Unstable. Reality bent for him, even in his silence.

His smirk was sharper than any blade, his violet eyes half-lidded, daring anyone—anyone—to challenge his presence.

Cata or... Cataclysm the demon prince.

The third was... stunning.

The kind of beauty that didn't belong in this world.

A woman with flowing, silky crimson hair cascading down her back, loose yet perfect, as if shaped by fire itself. Her skin was flawless, warm bronze, contrasting the wicked, curling horns that crowned her head—slender yet sharp, arching back like a predator ready to strike.

Her figure was impossible. Curves that defied logic, barely concealed beneath a dress woven from black silk and flame-thread, slit high enough to reveal a length of perfect leg. Her crimson eyes burned softly, a sultry half-smile on her full lips as she trailed beside the older demon.

But she wasn't just beautiful.

There was something in the way she moved.

The weight of her power simmered low, warm, intoxicating—until you focused too long. Then it sank in. That beauty wasn't an invitation. It was lethal.@@novelbin@@

She was chaos made flesh.

She's known as Calamity... The demon Empress

And then there was the succubus walking just beside the silver-haired prince, his chosen wife. And if the previous woman was stunning, this demoness was the embodiment of obsession.

Voluptuous didn't cover it—her figure was exaggerated to perfection. Pale skin, rich and smooth, marked only by faint runic symbols curling along her hips. Her curves were nearly too much, made worse by the teasing black-and-gold attire she wore—strips of dark silk and gold chains barely covering anything, but styled to look like high fashion.

Her horns were smaller, delicate yet sharp, curving back and framing her heart-shaped face. But what stood out most was the tail—long, sinuous, tipped with a heart-shaped barb, flicking idly as if testing the air for weakness.

And her eyes... A glowing pink, slitted pupils, impossible not to look at.

She didn't just walk. She swayed. Every movement deliberate, as if she knew exactly the effect she had. And her power...

It was a song. A pulse. Warm, lingering in the back of the mind. Not loud, but constant, invasive, relentless.

After she was betrothed to the prince of Chaos Demons she was given her Chaos Name too... Temptation! Tempt was just a normal succubus, no, she had something else running in her blood that made her special that even the Chaos Demons had given her their essence making her part of them.

She was currently the rarest amongst Demons now! Special!

____

And among them—Liez.

Younger. But unmistakable. The same pale skin as the succubus, though her energy was softer, still restrained compared to the overwhelming presence of the four. Her black horns had yet to fully curl, still forming—but the resemblance between her and the succubus was undeniable. Now among them, she didn't hide her horns and tail. She was almost in her full form.

She looked around, clearly more cautious than the others, her gaze lingering on the waiting convoy of vehicles.

The Phantoms stood ready.

Waiting. Silent.

Three figures in black again. No aura. No sound. But the moment the demons' power surged, the air shifted.

A tension—no, the Chaos Demons weren't reckless as Dracula, they were more calculating than letting their instincts take control in face of a challenge.

The four Chaos Demons felt the power of the three despite the Phantoms low-key presence. For a heartbeat, Cataclysm's smirk twitched. Ruin's golden eyes narrowed.

But none spoke.

And so the Phantoms bowed in unison, silent yet absolute in their authority.

"Your convoy awaits." No words were exchanged as the Chaos Demons moved toward the black cars, and yet, in the lingering silence, both sides had measured each other.

And understood—not all monsters bow.