Demonic Dragon: Harem System

The energy around Strax began to concentrate, bubbling like a sea of flames ready to explode. He didn't need to test the wolf. There was no need to prolong the fight. If Artorias wanted to see his strength, he would show him.

The gray wolf lunged at him, its claws gleaming like silver blades under the dark light of the arena. Every movement of the beast was perfect, a supreme predator combining speed, strength, and killer instinct. But Strax did not falter. His gaze remained fixed, his mind sharp as his blade.

In the instant the wolf approached, Strax moved with terrifying precision. His body vanished for a moment, and then, in a single instant, he reappeared beside the creature. His sword, Ouroboros, shone as if the very concept of destruction was etched into its blade.

"Get out of my way."

With a single cut, a wave of black energy spread like an invisible guillotine, swallowing the wolf whole in an instant. The impact reverberated through the arena, and an oppressive silence took over the battlefield.

The wolf remained still for a second, its eyes glowing in confusion, before its body split in half without a sound. The blood never touched the ground—it was vaporized by Strax's energy before it could fall.

Artorias watched everything without looking away. The smile that had once been curiosity now became pure approval. He let out a soft laugh, crossing his arms as he stared at Strax.

"I figured you were strong… but this..." Artorias looked at the empty space where his wolf had once stood. "That was beyond what I expected."

Strax twirled Ouroboros in his fingers before sheathing it, his face showing no sign of arrogance or exhilaration. To him, it was just a necessary step.

Artorias' smile didn't falter. He didn't seem the least bit concerned about the death of his wolf. On the contrary, Strax's gesture, so imposing and calculated, only increased his admiration for his opponent. Artorias wanted something more now, something that surpassed the limits of what he thought possible. He wanted to see just how far Strax could truly go.

"You gave me a nice demonstration, Strax," Artorias said, his voice heavy with respect. "But the fight's not over. You still haven't shown me everything you can do."

Without another word, Artorias charged with the force and speed of a storm. His sword cut through the air with a fierce roar, challenging any attempt at defense. The attack was calculated, precise, as though it were just another step in a deadly dance he had danced thousands of times.

But Strax did not retreat. He stood firm, his posture unbeatable, and as the strike came near, he briefly closed his eyes, as if feeling each movement of his enemy deep in his soul. Then, with brutal reflexes, he raised Ouroboros.

The clash was titanic.

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Artorias' blade met Strax's in a resounding clash of steel against steel, but there was something more. The wave of energy released by the impact distorted the air around them, creating a vortex of pure pressure that made the entire arena tremble. Scenes unfolded in slow motion as both warriors pushed with immense force, each trying to overpower the other.

Strax, with supernatural agility, slid to the side, escaping the direct clash, but Artorias was equally quick, spinning his sword in a curved arc, like lightning coming from nowhere. The strike was so fast and powerful that it seemed capable of cutting through reality itself.

Strax just smiled. He used the lightness of his movements to twist and block, the shockwaves reverberating in waves of heat around them. Ouroboros' blade gleamed with a black energy so intense that the light around them seemed to be consumed.

"You enjoy this, don't you?" Artorias asked, his voice full of excitement. He no longer cared about victory. The adrenaline of the battle was taking over him, and he was savoring every second.

"I don't play," Strax replied, his voice deep and unwavering. "I'm serious."

With a fluid motion, Strax advanced, releasing a wave of pure energy from the blade of Ouroboros. The wave sliced the battlefield in two, creating a line of destruction that seemed to cut through the arena itself. The power was immense, as if the very laws of physics had been defied.

Artorias didn't flinch. He jumped to the side, dodging the wave, but Strax was already on his tail. He didn't stop, his attacks faster than light, his blades cutting through the air with a muffled sound that filled the arena. Each movement of Strax was a work of art, one perfect strike after another, and Artorias found himself constantly forced to adapt, never able to fully defend.

For a moment, it seemed that Strax had the advantage. But Artorias, the legendary warrior he was, would not be defeated so easily. With a battle cry, he descended with his sword in a vertical strike so powerful that the air around him literally tore apart. It was a destructive blow, the kind that could annihilate entire armies, but Strax simply shifted his body to the side and descended with Tiamat, the incandescent golden blade, creating an energy barrier that nullified the force of Artorias' strike. The impact was immense, but both remained firm.

The balance was absolute.

Both were exhausted, their clothes torn, their armor marked by the weight of the fight. But neither yielded, each holding their ground, unaffected by the ferocity of the battle. The arena was chaos — chunks of earth and stone flying everywhere, and the very skies seemed to respond to the force of their attacks.

Artorias appeared impressed, but also furious. He didn't like being matched like this. He didn't like feeling that he was in danger. And that was what Strax represented: the true challenge, the opponent who could make him vulnerable.

"You're good," Artorias said, his voice filled with a mix of respect and challenge. "But if you want to keep going like this, you'll need to be more than good. You'll need to be... immortal."

With those words, Artorias lunged forward, his sword now emitting an aura of total destruction. It was a blow stronger, faster, and more destructive than any attack before. It was the final strike — or so he thought.

Strax didn't retreat. He knew this would be the decisive moment, the climax of the entire battle. He channeled his energy, concentrating all the power of Ouroboros into his blade. The world around him seemed to disappear, becoming a blank canvas, as he stepped forward, ready to face Artorias' fury with his own strength.

When the blades met, it was as if the very universe bent around them. The collision created an explosion of light and energy that was capable of blinding everything around them. The impact reverberated in waves across the battlefield, and both were thrown back, but neither was defeated.

They stood, their clothes tattered and their armor damaged, both breathing heavily. The battlefield was destroyed, the land burned and cracked.

Both were on the edge, but neither yielded.

"That was... spectacular," Artorias said, his voice muffled by exhaustion, but still full of respect. "I didn't think I'd find someone like this, someone who could really challenge me."

Strax looked at him calmly, saying nothing. His mind was focused, his emotions under control. He knew what he wanted, and nothing would change that.

"Then, Strax," Artorias said, with one last laugh of challenge. "Why do you want these souls so much? Tell me the truth."

Strax kept his eyes fixed on Artorias, his expression unperturbed, as if the weight of the question was nothing more than a formality. He didn't hesitate. His voice, cold and unyielding, cut through the heavy silence of the arena.

"I'll say it just one more time. I chose them as my wives. That's it."

With those words, an absolute silence hung over the battlefield. The weight of Strax's answer seemed to expand, as if time itself had slowed down. Artorias looked at him, a faint smile curving his lips, his eyes reflecting a deep curiosity.

"Intriguing," Artorias murmured, his posture relaxing slightly, as if he were finally beginning to understand something deeper about Strax's true purpose. But at the same time, a growing tension filled the air, as if he sensed something monumental was about to unfold.

Before Artorias could process it all, Strax made a sudden movement. His body began to change, a golden light radiating from his skin. Scales started to emerge, sliding over his flesh as if they were parts of a living armor, enveloping him with a supernatural and imposing aura. His eyes, once deep and serene, now gleamed with a golden light, a primal fire that seemed to pierce the soul of anyone who looked into them. The energy around him condensed, as if he was preparing to release something beyond human comprehension.

"Oh?" Artorias observed, his eyes shining with interest. "You've reached spiritual assimilation, how fascinating..."

Artorias' voice failed to continue his thought. He tried to react, but the air around him was saturated with an indescribable pressure. Strax moved with a speed impossible to follow with the naked eye, and before Artorias could even raise his sword to defend himself, the world around him seemed to collapse.

The golden sword, Tiamat, sliced through the space with a precision that defied the laws of physics. Artorias, who had always considered himself a master of battle, watched as his sword was severed with the ease of a silk thread being torn apart by a sharp blade. The arm that held his sword was separated from his body, falling to the ground with a muffled thud, and the pain never had time to reach his brain before the rest of his body was consumed by Strax's wave of destruction.