Harem System In A fantasy World

Chapter 268: A small War Council

Armour and weapons clinked softly as all eight stepped fully into the tent. It was easily large enough to fit all of them and still leave plenty of breathing room.

They carried with them the lingering scent of smoke, blood, and sweat from the battlefield they had just left behind, their movements weary but disciplined as they spread out slightly while still remaining close to the entrance.

The one who had spoken was a lightly armoured swordsman with dirty blonde hair and sharp eyebrows that were like blades, which gave his face a naturally stern and cutting appearance.

“Who is this?” he asked cautiously as he approached the table. His voice was steady but carrying a clear edge of vigilance as his hand rested near the hilt of his sword. It seemed like the rest of his entourage deferred to him, so they let him do the talking.

“Ahh, Yakuza,” Tristan greeted, “I’m glad to see all of my captains returned with all their limbs intact,” he smiled.

Yakuza, who looked about thirty or so, nodded, paying his respects to Maya, Aeron, and Zenovia, and stopped just before the table.

“Let me introduce you,” Tristan gestured toward Elion, “at this point, you should be used to such surprises, this here is Elion, a summoned hero, just like Sir Aeron, Lady Maya, and Lady Zenovia.”

The others all raised their brows in shock.

“Another one?” someone muttered under their breath.

Yakuza’s tone changed completely. He bowed respectfully, the plates of his armour clinked softly as his sheath knocked lightly against the side of his hip.

“Forgive my rudeness, Sir Elion. It’s a pleasure to have your esteemed presence on our side.”

Elion smiled lightly. He really wasn’t one for such fanfare, but praises and the like were always welcome, even though he had done nothing to earn them.

Yakuza got up. Oddly enough, his light blue eyes seemed to be twinkling, or was Elion seeing things?

“You must be the one I heard the men talking about,” he asked excitedly, “they said you decimated all the demons on the northern main front!”

Before Elion could even react, Yakuza stepped in closer and grabbed his right hand with both of his own, gripping it firmly as he looked up at him with an almost childlike enthusiasm that felt completely at odds with the composed soldier he had been just moments ago.

’What the fuck!?’ Elion was shocked. How could someone’s personality change so quickly?

His expression froze for a brief second as he stared down at the man who was now practically beaming at him.

Lucky for him, he didn’t have to deal with the oddity of the situation for long. One of the seven behind Yakuza, a woman walked up and tugged firmly on the back of his armour, dragging him away.

“Ahem,” she cleared her throat awkwardly, clearly a bit embarrassed by her companion’s antics, “forgive the vice commander, he tends to get excited when he meets a strong person he can look up to.”

Elion laughed lightly. “I understand, we all have things that we love.”

“My name is Lena, by the way,” She suddenly said as she was trying to pull on Yakuza, her grip tightening as he resisted ever so slightly.

“Nice to meet you, Lena,” Elion said, giving her a light smile. His gaze lingered on her for a moment as he spoke.

She stiffened slightly under it, blushing lightly before looking away, her grip on Yakuza loosening briefly before she quickly regained control and pulled him back another step.

She looked to be around the same age as Yakuza, maybe late twenties or early thirties, dressed in fitted armour that had seen its fair share of combat, though unlike the others, she carried a bow in one hand without any visible quiver.

Her short, shoulder-length hair was slightly disheveled, and her overall appearance carried a rough, battle-worn edge that contrasted with the faint softness in her features.

But she was kind of cute, if a bit boyish, thanks to her short-trimmed shoulder-length hair and the rough look on her person; maybe it was just that she was coming from battle.

Tristan gave Elion a light pat on the shoulder, “Don’t mind those two.” He glanced at the remaining six captains, “How about the rest of you introduce yourselves?” He suggested.

After that, the other six stepped forward one by one. The rest of them were not as loud or eccentric as Yakuza, but each of them carried their own weight and presence, their armour and weapons clinking softly as they moved.

“I am Kael Varion,” the first said, a tall human male with a scar running across his cheek and a longsword strapped to his back, “captain of the eastern flank.”

Next came a slender elf woman with silver hair tied behind her. Her green eyes were sharp and observant as they studied Elion closely. “Sylvara,” she said simply, giving a small nod, “archer and long-range mages captain.”

A broad-shouldered beastman stepped forward after her, a lionkin with a thick mane and golden eyes, his heavy gauntlets clinking as he folded his arms. “Olga,” he grunted, his deep voice rumbling, “frontline commander.”

Then a shorter figure stepped forward, a dwarf woman with braided auburn hair and a massive hammer resting on her shoulder, she gave him a wide grin. “Linda,” she said proudly, “siege captain.”

A pale man followed, his skin almost sickly looking, with faint dark veins visible along his neck, a vampire, though clearly allied with the coalition here, his red eyes flickered faintly as he gave a polite bow. “Cassiel,” he introduced smoothly, “support and night operations.”

This guy was the only vampire that Elion had seen since he had arrived in this camp, well, in this world.

It immediately made him think about Celeste. He didn’t know how long had passed since he had come into the trial; he could only hope that it wasn’t too long, and they would not have to spend longer than necessary in this place.

He really wanted to get back to her and be with her during the time that followed her pregnancy. He also wanted to be there when she gave birth, for reasons that were obvious to him.

Esme and Ophelia were also in a similar situation, but those two were more than capable. It had already been two months since their cycle started, and he hadn’t seen them much since.

The last stepped forward quietly, a foxkin woman with orange ears twitching lightly atop her head, her tail swaying slowly behind her as she looked at Elion with curious golden eyes. “Lyria,” she said softly, “scout captain.”

One by one, they finished their greetings, each of them showing respect in their own way, though there was still that underlying curiosity and caution in their gazes/

It was clear that Elion’s earlier display had already spread through the ranks, and none of them were taking him lightly.

Once the greetings were out of the way, they all began to move toward the war table. The large map spread across it rustled slightly as hands rested on its edges.

Tristan naturally took his position at the head of the table, his presence anchoring the group as the others arranged themselves around him, forming a loose circle.

Elion stepped in with them, his eyes briefly scanning the map laid out before them. The forest was drawn in detailed lines with markings scattered all across it.

Though he didn’t fully understand how to read it, he could tell it was important from the way everyone leaned in slightly, their expressions growing more serious

They spoke for a long while after that, about things you would expect from a war council on the frontlines, supply chains, and how long their rations would last, routes through the forest, and which ones were still usable.

Strategy and how to shift their forces to better positions, losses during the day, and which squads had been wiped out or heavily reduced, and plans for the night, even if things were usually quiet, it was not beneath demons to plan a night ambush, so they adjusted patrols and reassigned watches just in case.

Maya and Zenovia were mostly quiet, listening more than speaking, while Aeron gave his input when needed, stepping in to clarify things or offer small suggestions.

Time passed like that, the light inside the tent slowly dimming as the sun crept over the horizon, setting for the day, and eventually Tristan straightened at the head of the table and dismissed everyone.

“That will be all for today, get some rest,” he said simply.

There was a quiet murmur of acknowledgement as the captains began to leave, armour and weapons clinking softly as they stepped out one by one.

“Oh, Aeron,” Tristan called out.

Aeron turned back. “Yes?”

“I will trust you to ensure our new comrade finds his way around, and that includes finding a tent for him to rest in, the bathing stations, as well as the large open area we use as the mess hall.”

“Of course,” Aeron nodded.

He then led Elion outside, the cool evening air greeting them as they stepped out of the tent, the camp already settling down for the night.

Maya and Zenovia quickly disappeared somewhere behind the large tent, without so much as a word, and Elion could only sigh, his eyes lingering in that direction for a moment before he looked away, hoping he would be able to interact with her again.

At this point, he could only hope she would be at least a little less aggressive than she had been when they first met, though he hadn’t really helped his own case there, but he really needed to up his game, or he might really have to go completely dry on system points.

Aeron led the way away from the central area quietly, his pace steady as he moved through the camp.

It was the most crowded place in the whole camp, and so, of course, that meant he got lots of respectful nods and greetings, soldiers straightening slightly as they noticed him, some offering brief words while others simply dipped their heads before returning to what they were doing.

Elion walked beside him, his gaze shifting from one interaction to another, taking note of the subtle authority Aeron carried. It wasn’t something loud or forced, but it was clearly there in the way people reacted to him.

Once they had walked far enough that they only ran into someone once or twice, the noise of the central area fading behind them, Aeron finally spoke.

“Maya, Zenovia, and I each took a tent very spaced out from each other, so did the captains and the vice commander. That central tent serves as Commander Tristan’s sleeping quarters as well.”

Elion nodded as he looked ahead, his eyes briefly passing over the more scattered tents in this part of the camp.

“Yes, that makes sure you don’t leave the weaker mages and fighters isolated in case of an emergency or ambush; it also leaves room for plenty of flexibility.”

Aeron nodded to Elion’s analysis without slowing his pace.

“I should take this as you telling me I will be given a similar position?” Elion asked, glancing at him.

“Of course, though I hate to admit it, you are far stronger than I am, so I would really like to put your strength to good use to win this war, and in turn, pass this stage of the trial without incident.”

Aeron looked back at Elion over his shoulder, his gaze oddly serious.

“Make no mistake, though, I don’t plan to ride your coattails for too long. I will work harder than ever and catch up to you.”

Elion raised a brow slightly, a faint hint of amusement touching his expression. “And why is it you think that is necessary?”

Aeron looked back to the front, falling quiet for a few seconds as he continued walking, his heavy boots crunching the leaves and twigs below, the sound carrying softly in the otherwise quiet surroundings.

“Honestly, I don’t think telling you this is a good idea, but I can see that you are a smart person, so I think you will figure it out eventually.”

He paused again, as if considering whether to continue.

“You heard from that mysterious voice that this is the first trial of three, yes?”

“I did,” Elion replied.

Aeron nodded slightly.

“For now, this is speculation on my part, but it is highly probable that one of the preceding two trials will involve combat against each other, seven trial takers.”

Elion’s eyes sharpened at that, the thought settling quickly in his mind.

’Yes… that is indeed a plausible conclusion.’

“That makes sense,” he said aloud, his tone calm, though his mind had already begun to turn over the implications.

After that, they both remained quiet for the majority of the walk, the tents in this area becoming more spaced out, the camp quieter, the sounds of activity now distant and faint.

For a while, neither of them spoke.

Then Elion broke the silence.

“Well, we do not need to think about all that at the moment. Let’s work together for as long as we need to. If one day we meet each other on opposing sides of a battlefield… well, I suggest that you run.”