Harem System In A fantasy World

The five retainers went completely stiff as Elion glided beside them. Their backs straightened so sharply that one of them nearly fell off his mount before catching himself.

“H-Hello, Sir Elion,” the round-bellied one said first, his voice cracking at the end.

The others immediately shot him looks of betrayal. Why was he speaking first? And why the fuck had he volunteered them all for death!?

Elion’s grin widened.

“I couldn’t help but notice,” he said slowly, letting the wind carry his voice between them, “that you brave young men seemed to be discussing something very interesting.”

“No!” one of them shouted quickly, and the others turned to him in horror.

Elion raised a brow.

“No?”

“I mean, yes! I mean, no, nothing interesting, Sir Elion!”

“Very convincing,” Elion said dryly.

Alexander, who was watching from ahead on his winged serpent, narrowed his eyes, but he made no move to intervene. In fact, from the look on his face, he seemed entirely too pleased that someone else was about to suffer in his place.

Elion leaned slightly forward on his mount, his tied hair shifting behind him as a few loose bangs fell across his eyes.

“So,” he said, his voice calm and light, “which one of you said I drink virgin blood?”

The silence that followed was almost beautiful. The five retainers froze.

Peter, the one who had just loudly announced his unfortunate innocence to the heavens, slowly went pale.

“I…”

He swallowed deeply

“I was speaking hypothetically.”

“Hypothetically,” Elion repeated.

“Yes.”

“About me.”

“…Yes.”

“Drinking virgin blood.”

Peter’s lips trembled.

“…Also yes.”

Elion stared at him for a long moment; he ended up nodding solemnly.

“I see.”

Peter looked like he was about to cry; he was more than expecting his life to end right there and then. Elion tilted his head slightly.

“Do you know what the problem is, Peter?”

Peter flinched at the sound of his name.

“…My loose tongue?”

“No.”

Elion’s grin returned full force, “The problem is that you are making me sound far too cheap.” The other retainers blinked.

Peter blinked twice.

“…Cheap?”

“Of course,” Elion said matter-of-factly. “Do I look like someone who would drink just any virgin blood? Have some respect. I would at least require it to be from a noble bloodline, aged properly, preferably served in a crystal goblet beneath moonlight.”

The five retainers stared, and Alexander closed his eyes from the front, a heavy sigh escaping him.

’He’s way too good at this,’ he thought silently

“Don’t encourage them…” he muttered, but Elion was already enjoying himself.

“And even then,” Elion continued, placing a hand over his chest with exaggerated dignity, “I am a man of refined taste. I would pair it with grilled salmon and a decent wine.”

Peter’s mouth opened, and closed, and opened again.

“…So I’m safe?”

Elion looked him up and down, a slow, devastatingly judgmental look. Peter somehow shrank smaller on his mount.

“Yes,” Elion said at last. “You are safe.”

Peter let out a breath of relief, and Elion added, “Your blood probably tastes like fear and cheap soup anyway.”

One of the retainers choked while another slapped a hand over his mouth to stop himself from laughing.

Peter looked deeply wounded.

“That was unnecessary…”

“It was very necessary,” Elion replied.

Alexander failed to contain himself and let out a quiet laugh, though he quickly turned it into a cough when Peter looked at him with betrayal in his eyes.

Elion shifted his gaze to the others.

“And as for the rest of you…”

They all stiffened again.

“You really thought I was aiming for the king?”

No one spoke; the way Elion’s smile turned cold was enough to make them feel more fear than if they were facing a thousand demons alone.

“First the princess, then the prince, then the king, was it?”

One of the retainers immediately pointed at another, “It was Gareth!”

“Traitor!” Gareth hissed.

“You said you read books like that!”

“I said I had heard of books like that!”

“You said the plot was interesting!”

“I was young and curious!”

“You read one just last month!”

“Shut up!”

Elion watched the group break apart into whispered panic, his grin slowly fading into genuine amusement.

Alexander looked back at them with a tired expression.

“These are my retainers,” he said bitterly, almost in disbelief. “My loyal, disciplined, noble retainers.”

Elion nodded.

“I can see why you need me as a teacher.”

Alexander’s face darkened, “I was not asking for your opinion.”

“You needed it anyway.”

Alexander clicked his tongue and looked away.

The small group of retainers had finally gone silent again, but they were now looking as though they were awaiting judgment from this hero of theirs.

Elion let them stew for a few seconds before he waved them off lazily.

“Relax. I’m not going to kill you.”

All five visibly loosened in relief.

“Today.”

They stiffened again, which caused Elion to laugh lightly.

“Consider this your first lesson: if you are going to gossip about someone with sharp ears, at least do it from farther away.”

Peter nodded rapidly.

“Yes, Sir Elion.”

“And if you are going to make up rumours about me, make them more flattering.”

Gareth blinked.

“More… flattering?”

“Yes,” Elion said. “For example, instead of saying I drink virgin blood, say I bathe in the tears of defeated demons. That sounds far more heroic, and maybe a tad bit poetic as well.”

One of the retainers whispered, “That sounds more terrifying…”

Elion’s eyes shifted to him, and the poor guy immediately straightened.

“Heroic! I meant heroic!”

“Good.”

Alexander sighed deeply, but even he seemed to be fighting a smile.

Elion finally guided his bird forward again, returning closer to Alexander’s side. Behind him, the retainers remained quiet for nearly a full minute, as though afraid even the wind might betray them.

Peter whispered in a barely audible voice, “Do you think demon tears are expensive?”

Elion looked back at him, letting them know that he could still hear them, even if they whispered.

Peter nearly screamed, “I was asking for military logistics!”

Alexander laughed as Elion looked at Peter for a very long moment.

The poor retainer looked like he was one wrong breath away from jumping off his mount and trusting the wind to be kinder than Elion.

“Military logistics,” Elion repeated slowly.

Peter nodded so hard his neck looked like it might snap.

“Yes, Sir Elion. Military logistics.”

“And demon tears?”

“…Hypothetical military logistics.”

Elion’s grin slowly returned.

“I see.”

Peter swallowed.

Behind him, Gareth and the others quietly leaned away, as if physical distance would somehow remove them from whatever punishment was about to descend.

Alexander, still riding slightly ahead on his winged serpent, had turned halfway around in his saddle, one hand covering part of his mouth as his shoulders trembled lightly.

The bastard was laughing. Not openly, because he was a prince and apparently had some dignity left, but enough that Elion could see it.

Elion glanced at him.

“You seem entertained.”

Alexander immediately straightened.

“I am observing troop morale.”

“Troop morale?”

“Yes.”

“You’re laughing at your retainers.”

“I would never.”

Peter looked betrayed.

“Your Highness…”

Alexander cleared his throat, looking away from him.

“Peter, one must learn to endure hardship.”

“You were laughing!”

“A prince does not laugh.”

“Y-Your shoulders were shaking!”

“Wind turbulence.”

“There is no turbulence!”