Demonic Dragon: Harem System

Strax smiled, his eyes gleaming with a malicious light. "Ah, this won't be a problem," he said, displaying a cold smile as he pulled two swords from his spiritual ring, the blades emanating a dark glow.

Evelyn crossed her arms, a skeptical look crossing her face. "You really think you'll be able to extract the souls from there?"

Strax let out a low, dark laugh. "They didn't leave these swords behind because they can't use magic for this. But that doesn't mean they don't know how to escape."

Evelyn sighed, giving a reluctant nod. "Very well... But remember, Strax. This is an irreversible process. You must be very careful."

"Don't worry, madame," he replied with a smile that bordered on demonic. "We'll give life to two dragons."

Evelyn raised an eyebrow, her expression becoming more serious. "So... What are your plans for that?" she asked, observing the partially formed homunculi, their structures almost complete but still lacking the final piece: the vital energy of the souls.

Before Strax could answer, a soft voice echoed through the room. "We'll help you take our souls and send them directly to the homunculi." Evelyn felt a slight weight on her shoulder, and when she looked to see what it was, she saw a small dragon landing there. It was Tiamat, in her reduced form, her eyes gleaming with ancient wisdom.

Strax looked at the dragon, surprised, but said nothing. Tiamat was in her diminutive form, yet her presence was still imposing.

"Honestly, we didn't think this would be quick," said Ouroboros, flying in front of Strax with his golden scales gleaming under the light of the chamber. "But to break the seal, you'll probably have to meet your ancestor."

"My ancestor?" Strax frowned, curious. "I've heard little about him..."

The small golden dragon, with a mysterious gleam in his eyes, spoke in a grave tone. "Artorias Vorah. He was the greatest swordsman in the world, known as the Saint of the Sword. Despite his unmatched skill, he had a... certain fondness for women. But more dangerous still was the fact that, as an enemy, he was relentless. It was he who severed the connection of our bodies with his sword and bound our weapons to these blades. It was the same fate he imposed on everyone in that cursed garden."

Strax became thoughtful, recalling the day he was accepted by Ouroboros and Tiamat in the Sword Garden of Vorah. The weight of that memory made his mind relive that time of trials and challenges.

Tiamat settled on his shoulder, her eyes gleaming with a hint of nostalgia. "Well, Artorias was certainly strong. But, in the end, he was a man excessively attached to his family. If he had known that his lineage, instead of prospering, would become a battleground to see who would become the strongest... He would have been disappointed. A true tragedy for someone so proud of his ancestors."

Strax remained silent for a moment, Tiamat and Ouroboros' words echoing in his mind. The weight of his desire and the task before him weighed heavily on him, but his determination was clear. He clenched his hands in a nearly imperceptible gesture, his gaze fixed on the small dragons.

"Disappointment..." Strax repeated, as if the word carried more weight than he had imagined. "So, what does that mean for me exactly? How do I free your souls without destroying everything in the process?"

Ouroboros, with his deep and calculating gaze, moved a little closer. "To begin, you'll need to understand that Artorias' seal is not just a physical barrier. It is a link to the past, to the spirit of the warrior. The seal itself is a reflection of the lineage, of the strength that Artorias represented. If you understand what that seal truly is, you'll be able to use the power behind it to safely free our souls."

He paused, the golden gleam in his eyes intensifying. "Otherwise, Strax... you'll risk more than you realize. We're not just talking about life or death. We're talking about intertwined fates, about something that could be more destructive than you believe."

Strax didn't seem shaken by the gravity of Ouroboros' words. His gaze, however, grew more focused, more intensely possessive. He wanted more than just to see the dragons freed. He wanted them.

"Well, how do I do this?" Strax asked, his voice thick with a tone that left no room for doubt. "I want to see you both in human bodies by the end of the day. I'm tired of waiting. I need to have you, finally."

The possessiveness in his words was evident, and his obsession with achieving his goal was clear. The sadistic smile forming on his lips spoke for itself. He knew the power he sought wouldn't be easy to acquire, but he was willing to pay any price. His desire to possess Tiamat and Ouroboros, not just as entities but as living beings at his disposal, had become an uncontrollable obsession.

Tiamat, still calmly resting on Evelyn's shoulder, looked at Strax with a mischievous smile. "Unfortunately, you'll have to figure this out..."

Tiamat and Ouroboros exchanged a brief look before Tiamat moved, landing softly on the table with a mysterious gleam in her eyes. She looked directly at Strax, unwavering.

"To access the seal of Artorias, the process is simple, but it needs to be done correctly. The seal cannot be broken with any common magic, Strax," she explained, her voice firm and straightforward. "You'll need to invoke the symbol of the Vorah lineage, the mark that Artorias left to protect what he considered most precious."

Ouroboros flew to Strax's side, his penetrating gaze focused on him. "In each of Artorias' swords, there's a mark of his family, a blood seal. To activate it, you'll need to create the same symbol, but this time, using your own blood. The power of the seal is only transmitted by a descendant of the lineage who understands its nature."

Tiamat continued, now more serious. "You must draw the Vorah family seal around the blades precisely. Place the swords in front of you, aligned so they touch each other. Then, spill your blood upon them. Only the blood of one who possesses true determination will be able to activate the necessary power. If you fail... there will be no second chances."

Strax, now understanding the simplicity of the procedure, nodded. "So, it's just that. Draw the seal and spill my blood. There's no further complication?"

Ouroboros nodded firmly. "Exactly. The seal is the key to freeing our souls. Once activated, the swords will become conduits to send our souls directly into the homunculi, without them getting lost in the beyond."

With a fierce determination in his eyes, Strax walked toward the garden, where the quiet atmosphere contrasted with the tumult in his mind. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves, and the distant sound of his boots echoed on the stone floor. He knew the time to act had come, and he wasn't about to fail.

Upon reaching the center of the garden, he positioned the two swords of Artorias in front of him. The blades, now in their original form, seemed to glow with a mysterious energy, as if they were merely awaiting the final touch to release their power. The air was heavy, charged with a sense of anticipation.

Without hesitation, Strax drew the Vorah family seal around the blades with his hand, using a small dagger to make cuts in his own skin. Blood flowed, the heat of pain serving as a reminder of the seriousness of the moment. He poured the blood with precision over the blades, filling the space of the seal with his vital fluid.

A wave of energy pulsed immediately, and Strax felt the ground beneath his feet tremble slightly. He stepped back, watching as the blades began to glow intensely. But suddenly, the air around him distorted, as though reality itself were being torn apart. Strax didn't have time to react. The ground beneath him seemed to vanish, and an invisible force pulled him into the seal.

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He felt his vision blur, and for a moment, the world around him completely disappeared. When his eyes opened again, he was no longer in the garden, nor even in the same plane of existence. He was in a strange place, a distorted and surreal landscape. The sky above was a dark gray, and the clouds seemed to form threatening shapes, as if the very environment was aware of the battle taking place there.

Strax looked around, trying to understand where he was. But what caught his attention was the sound of a fierce battle happening ahead. He followed the sound, and when he reached the area, his vision opened to a scene he could never have imagined.

Before him, in the midst of battle, was Artorias Vorah, the legendary swordsman, engaged in a fight against several terrifying-looking enemies. The man was a force of nature, his sword glowing with a brilliance that seemed to cut through the very air. He moved with unparalleled agility and precision, cutting down his foes without hesitation. Every movement was calculated, a deadly dance of skill and power.

The enemies he faced were varied: demons with horns, dark-skinned winged creatures, and even shadowy specters, each trying to bring down Artorias. But despite the apparent numerical disadvantage, Artorias stood firm, defeating his invaders one by one.

Strax watched with a mixture of fascination and curiosity. It was as though he had been transported into a living memory, a battle from the past. He was inside the seal, now a spectator, a powerless observer of Artorias' might. He couldn't interfere, couldn't change the course of the fight. He was trapped there, witnessing firsthand the true power of the man he had heard of but never truly understood.

Artorias, with his unwavering demeanor, cleaved another specter in two, his sword glowing with a radiant brilliance. He looked forward, his eyes fixed on a new enemy that was approaching. A massive creature, with stone-like skin and immense strength, advanced toward Artorias.

"You... are in my way," Artorias murmured, his voice carrying an unshakable authority. He raised his sword, preparing for the next move, determined not to fail, to protect what he considered his.