Demonic Dragon: Harem System

Strax was sitting on a large rock in the center of a sunlit clearing, with Bela standing in front of him. She had her arms crossed, clearly sizing him up as he wiped the sweat from his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt. The training had been intense, and he was beginning to feel the weight of the lessons the Vermillion sisters had been imposing on him.

"You're not as clumsy as Cassandra said," Bela commented with a slightly provocative tone, a mischievous smile appearing as she twirled a strand of her hair. "But you still have a lot to improve if you want to survive in the cultivation world."

"Cassandra said I was clumsy?" Strax asked, raising an eyebrow. He looked more curious than offended, and a faint smile appeared on his lips. "That's interesting, considering she spent half the time tripping over her own words when talking to me."

"She trips over her words because she gets distracted by you, which, honestly, is quite the feat. I've never seen my sister this in love," Bela replied with a light laugh. "But back to the point… How are you feeling with all this training? It can't be easy going from a stranger to... well, their husband and apprentice in such a short time."

Strax sighed, leaning back against the rock. "Tired, but I can't complain. I knew that winning them over wouldn't come with an easy life. Besides, I've learned more in these past few days than in years of living as a human." He paused for a moment, looking at Bela with a playful smile. "And with you training me, I have a better chance of surviving an encounter with that damn woman." He murmured, clearly thinking of Kryssia.

"Good, because the next challenge will be a real test," Bela said, leaning toward him with a competitive gleam in her eyes. "You're faster and stronger than before, but I want to see how you handle real situations. Fighting against me, for example, is easy. I hold back. But out there, no one will go easy on you."

"So does that mean you'll stop going easy on me?" he teased, raising an eyebrow.

"Maybe," Bela replied, her smile widening. "Or maybe I'll just start making you pay in other ways. Don't forget, Strax, you're not just an apprentice here. You're a man who has to prove himself. And you need to honor that."

Strax laughed, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Alright, alright. I'll make sure not to disappoint you. Got any tips for the next step, or are you just going to throw me into the fire and hope I don't burn?"

Bela tilted her head, thoughtful. "My tip? Use everything you've learned so far. If you want to impress me, show me that you can think on your feet, improvise. And, of course…" She took a step forward, poking his chest with her finger. "Never, ever underestimate a Vermillion. Especially me."

"Understood," he replied, a determined smile forming on his face. "I'm ready for whatever comes next."

"We'll see," Bela said, spinning on her heels and beginning to walk away. "Rest now. Tomorrow, we'll test your limits for real."

Strax watched her leave, feeling a mix of exhaustion and excitement. The Vermillion sisters were challenging, unpredictable, and above all, fascinating. And he knew the journey with them was just beginning.

'She... she's stranger than the others,' he thought.

Strax's body felt as if it were being forged by a blacksmith. They pushed him to his limits as though he were iron being hammered, then allowed him to rest for several hours, only to put him through it all again with no mercy.

A day passed.

Bela was waiting for him in the main hall, as always, waiting for the man to come down from his quarters for another day of training. It had been ten days since Cassandra attacked him.

She crossed her arms and stared at him with a critical gaze, evaluating him from head to toe.

"Today, you'll learn to fight with swords and daggers," she announced, with no introduction or additional explanation. "Let's go."

"Wait! What do you mean, learn? I come from a family of master swordsmen, I know how to use a sword," Strax said, and Bela looked at him.

"Do you really want to argue about this, considering you were pathetically defeated by Kryssia?" Bela remarked, and Strax looked directly at her... nervous.

Strax sighed, realizing there was no space for protests. He dragged himself to the courtyard, with Bela walking ahead, spinning a dagger between her fingers. The blade reflected the first rays of light breaking through the thick clouds above.

"Let's get this over with," she said, not even waiting for a greeting. "Pick up that sword." She pointed to a medium-sized weapon leaning against a nearby stand.

Strax obeyed, grabbing the sword and feeling the unbalanced weight in his hands. He had never handled anything like this before—something so heavy... "Magic sword, enchanted with weight magic. It weighs six hundred kilograms," Bela said.

"Hold it like this," she said, quickly approaching to adjust Strax's stance. Her fingers were firm and precise as she corrected the way he held the sword, but there was no gentleness in her movements. It was as though he were just a tool that needed to be adjusted to function properly. "Your feet are wrong. Spread them a bit more. That's it. Now, raise the blade. Never point it to the ground unless you want to die."

The instructions were quick and rigid, and Bela had no patience for mistakes. Whenever Strax made one, she corrected him immediately, often with a strike from her own wooden sword to force him to adjust his posture or position.

"You're clumsy, your body is strong, but you have no strength or balance," she remarked, with no intention of softening the impact of her words. "You come from a family of swordsmen, but none of them taught you properly, did they? It's only a matter of seconds before you end up on the ground if you get into a fight with a real swordsman. How you're still alive after facing Kryssia is a mystery."

"Thanks for the honesty," Strax replied, trying to keep sarcasm in his voice even as his frustration grew.

"It's a fact," she retorted, shaking her head. "Now, again."

They repeated the same movement dozens of times, Bela demanding perfection in every detail. There were no smiles or encouraging words. She seemed determined to finish the training as quickly as possible, with no consideration for Strax's physical or emotional state.

However, as the day went on, the inevitable happened. During a sword attack demonstration, Bela, using her vampire speed, moved faster than Strax could follow. She only intended to dodge a poorly executed strike, but the blade of her sword grazed his arm, cutting the skin lightly.

"Shit," she muttered, instinctively stepping back. "That's your fault for being slow."

Strax held his arm, looking at the cut, which began to heal slowly. It was deep, and blood started to trickle out, contrasting sharply against his skin. "Of course, because everything is my fault, right?" he replied, pain clear in his voice.

'What the hell kind of sword is this? Why does it hurt so much?' he wondered, looking at the sword in her hands.

Bela opened her mouth to retort, but something changed in her expression. Her eyes, once cold and disinterested, fixed on Strax's blood.

The sweet, metallic scent filled the air, invading her senses.

It was as if something inside her had been awakened.

"I... You..." She tried to say something, but her voice sounded disconnected. Her eyes, now with an intense gleam, couldn't pull away from the blood.

Strax noticed the change, and a wave of discomfort ran through him. "Bela? Are you okay? It's just a cut, nothing serious."

But she didn't seem to hear him. Her steps took her closer, and her breath became slightly erratic. "Your blood..." she murmured, more to herself than to him. "It's... different."

Strax took a step back, raising his hands in a defensive gesture. "Okay, this is starting to get weird. Are you okay?"

Bela ignored the nervous attempt at humor. She was fighting against herself, but it was evident that the smell of the blood was affecting her in a way she couldn't control.

Her breathing grew heavier, and her hands began to tremble slightly.

"Stay still," she said, her voice filled with something Strax couldn't identify... a mix of obsession and need.

"Stay still?" he repeated, incredulous. "Are you kidding? I'm not staying still while you—"

Before he could finish, Bela took a quick step toward him, enough to make Strax stumble and fall backward. She knelt beside him, her eyes locked on the cut on his arm.

"I... I need to understand," she whispered, the tips of her fingers hovering over the wound, but not touching it. "Why is it so... alluring?" Experience more tales on empire

'This woman's gone crazy, crazy...' Strax thought, but Bela gripped his arm tightly, her expression a mix of fascination and internal struggle.

She finally looked up at him, and Strax saw something different in her gaze—it wasn't just hunger or desire, but a dangerous obsession that seemed to consume her every thought.

"Your blood is incredible," she said, almost as if she were trying to justify her behavior to herself. "There's something about it… something that calls… that draws me in."