Bloody Harem System

Arthur Drake stood before the doors of the Lotus Pavilion bedroom. Familiar sounds drifted through the wood, a rhythmic creaking of bedsprings mixed with soft moans. His stomach tightened into a hard knot. He pushed the doors open to step into the dim candlelight of his own marital chambers.

His wife Clara Vale was pinned near the edge of their large mattress. Her silken robes were bunched around her waist, revealing the smooth curve of her hips and the sweat glistening on her skin. The outer sect prodigy Blake Mercer stood between her legs, his hands gripping her bare thighs with bruising force.

"You have so much more stamina than my husband," Clara whispered, trailing a manicured fingernail down Blake Mercer’s sculpted chest. "He cannot even handle a basic breathing technique. He definitely cannot handle a real woman like me."

Blake Mercer flashed a wicked grin and leaned closer. "A powerful woman needs a man who can actually conquer her in bed. I will gladly plow your fields every night, little miss. We will cultivate until the sun rises."

He bit down on her neck, drawing a sharp gasp from her lips. She arched her back to press herself deeper into his grip. 

Arthur Drake clenched his fists until his fingernails bit into his palms. "Get off my wife."

The movement on the bed stopped. Blake Mercer turned his head slowly, his chest heaving with exertion. He did not look surprised or frightened. He looked annoyed. Clara did not bother covering herself. She stayed exactly where she was, her legs draped over the prodigy’s hips.

"Oh, you are home early," Clara said, her voice dripping with lazy disdain. She looked Arthur Drake up and down, her eyes full of mockery. "Do you enjoy watching us? You can stay in the corner if you want to learn how a real man satisfies his woman."

"Infidelity is a crime punished by death in the Cerulean Crest Order," Arthur Drake stated, his voice tight with rage. "You are breaking the sacred laws. Both of you."

Blake Mercer chuckled and stepped back, finally releasing her. He reached for his scattered clothes. "Sect Master’s prized son by marriage is lecturing us on the law. My deepest apologies. I was merely keeping your bed warm. Someone has to do the heavy lifting around here."

Clara laughed, a cruel and melodic sound that echoed in the quiet room. She slid off the mattress and walked toward Arthur Drake, making no effort to fix her disheveled robes. The scent of sweat and arousal clung to her skin.

"You are eighteen years old and you do not even possess a spiritual root," Clara sneered, stopping just inches from his face. "You have never even touched me. You do not have the right or the strength to claim me. I have needs, Arthur. Needs that a weak, crippled boy could never fulfill."

"You are a disgrace," Arthur Drake said, holding her gaze.

Smack! Her hand cracked across his cheek. The force of a Qi Condensation cultivator sent Arthur Drake staggering backward. 

"Watch your mouth," she hissed. "You are alive only because my father allows it. Go ahead and cry to him. See if he cares."

Arthur Drake wiped the blood from his lip. He turned his back on them and marched out of the Lotus Pavilion. The rage inside him burned hotter than a forge. He had endured three years of starvation, eating scraps while the rest of the sect feasted on spirit meat. He had endured the whispers and the insults. But he would not endure his own wife mocking him while sleeping with another man in his bed.

He crossed the courtyard with angry steps, heading straight for the Jade Study. The guards outside the room did not have time to stop him before he kicked the doors open. 

Sect Master Victor Vale sat behind a massive mahogany desk. He was calmly sipping a cup of green tea. He did not flinch when the doors slammed against the walls. He simply placed his porcelain cup on a saucer and looked up.

"Your daughter is in my bed with Blake Mercer," Arthur Drake declared, his chest heaving. "I demand justice according to the ancient laws. Adultery requires immediate execution."

Victor Vale picked up a bamboo scroll from his desk. He unrolled it slowly, his eyes scanning the text instead of looking at the boy standing before him.

"And what exactly do you want me to do about it?" Victor asked in a bored tone.

Arthur Drake froze. The cold indifference in the older man’s voice hit him harder than Clara’s slap. "You are the Sect Master. The laws apply to everyone. I caught them in the act just next door."

Victor finally raised his head. A dark, patronizing smile touched his lips. "Your grandfather was a fool, Arthur Drake. He truly believed a verbal promise could bind a dragon. He thought handing the sect over to me until you came of age was a noble act."

Arthur Drake felt a chill run down his spine. "You swore an oath to my grandfather. You married Clara to me to prove your loyalty to his bloodline."

"I married her to you to keep the grand elders quiet," Victor corrected, tossing the scroll aside. "It was excellent politics. It showed the entire province that I honored the old master’s dying wish. But power rules this world, not sentimental promises. You have no spiritual root. You cannot cultivate. You are trash."

"Because you starved me," Arthur Drake said, the realization settling into his bones. "You cut off my spirit stone allowance. You fed me mortal food."

"I did what was necessary for the survival of the Cerulean Crest Order," Victor said, leaning forward. "A dragon does not mate with a worm. Clara is eighteen and already at the peak of Qi Condensation. Blake Mercer is our finest prodigy. They will breed a stronger, superior generation for my legacy. Did you honestly think I would let a cripple soil my daughter?"

The sheer betrayal suffocated Arthur Drake. The man sitting across from him had orchestrated his entire miserable existence. He had stolen the sect, ruined Arthur Drake’s future, and sanctioned his daughter’s infidelity just to breed better warriors.

"I will go to the Grand Council," Arthur Drake said, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "I will expose this entire farce. I will tell the elders that you are orchestrating the destruction of my grandfather’s legacy. The humiliation will fracture your authority."

Victor sighed. He looked disappointed. He raised his right hand and snapped his fingers. 

Four guards materialized from the shadows of the study. They wore heavy steel armor and carried thick iron batons. They surrounded Arthur Drake in an instant, cutting off his path to the door.

"If you were strong, your wife would not seek a stronger man," Victor said coldly. "If you were strong, you could take your sect back. But you are weak. Break his legs. Tear out his tongue."

The guards lunged. Arthur Drake ducked under the first swinging iron baton. 

“You think you can silence me? My grandfather taught me some martial arts before he died. Every night I practice it even though starve my spiritual roots” 

He stepped into the guard's stance and drove his palm directly into the man's throat.

The guard gagged and dropped his weapon. Arthur caught the falling iron baton before it hit the floorboards. He spun on his heel, using the momentum to swing the heavy iron into the side of the second guard's knee. The bone cracked loudly. The man screamed and collapsed.

The third guard thrust a spear toward Arthur's chest. Arthur deflected the wooden shaft with his baton, closed the distance, and delivered a devastating headbutt to the bridge of the guard's nose. Blood sprayed across the mahogany desk.

The fourth guard hesitated, his eyes wide in shock. Arthur did not give him time to recover. He threw his baton like a spear, striking the final guard square in the chest plate. The impact knocked the wind out of the man, and Arthur followed up with a sweeping kick that sent the guard crashing into a bookshelf.

Arthur stood amidst the groaning bodies of the four elite guards. His breathing was heavy, but his eyes burned with a fierce, unyielding light. He had proven his worth. He was a warrior forged in hardship, limited only by a broken foundation. 

Victor Vale watched his men fall. The bored expression vanished from his face, replaced by a cold annoyance. He stood up from his desk. The room grew instantly colder.

"A mortal struggling against the heavens," Victor stated. 

He stepped forward. The sheer, suffocating pressure of his advanced cultivation base flooded the study. Arthur felt as if a boulder had been dropped onto his shoulders. The invisible weight forced him to his knees. He tried to stand, but his muscles locked up under the overwhelming Qi pressure.

Victor walked slowly around the desk. He stood over Arthur, looking down with disdain. He raised his foot and brought his boot down on Arthur's right leg.

A sickening crunch echoed through the room. The tibia shattered instantly. Arthur screamed, the agony blinding his vision. Victor did not stop. He delivered a swift, Qi infused kick directly to Arthur's ribs. Bone fractured and splintered inward. The force lifted Arthur off the floor and slammed him into the wall.

Arthur slid down the stone surface, leaving a trail of blood. He coughed violently, tasting the metallic tang of his own internal bleeding. The gap between a mortal and a true master was an insurmountable abyss. He could not fight Qi with mere muscle. 

Victor adjusted his silk robes. He looked at two new guards running into the doorway to see the commotion. 

"Drag this garbage out of my study," Victor ordered. "Dump him outside the main gates. Let the dogs finish him off."

The new guards grabbed Arthur by his arms. They dragged his broken body out of the Jade Study and pulled him through the dirt courtyards. Every bump against the stone paths sent fresh waves of agony radiating through his shattered legs and ribs. 

They reached the towering iron gates of the Cerulean Crest Order. The guards swung him backward and threw him into the muddy ditch just outside the gate. They turned around and walked back inside, leaving him alone in the freezing night.

Arthur lay in the mud. His vision blurred at the edges. Warm blood pooled around his chest, soaking through his torn shirt. The crimson liquid crept upward, reaching the small jade pendant hanging from his neck. It was a crude, unpolished stone, the only possession his grandfather had managed to slip him before dying.

The jade drank his blood.

A sudden, intense heat erupted against his chest. The stone pulsed with a blinding crimson light, illuminating the dark ditch. The pain in his shattered legs and broken ribs began to numb, replaced by a strange, vibrating energy that surged through his veins.

A mechanical, feminine voice echoed directly inside his skull.

[Host vitality critical. Life force failing.] 

[Requirement met: Ultimate Betrayal.] 

[Requirement met: Royal Bloodline Spilled.] 

[System booting. Activating Bloody Harem System.]

Arthur Drake opened his swollen eyes. A translucent red screen hovered in the air above him, glowing with golden text.

[Binding complete. Welcome, Host Arthur Drake.] 

[To survive, you must conquer. To conquer, you must claim. The more powerful the women you dominate, the stronger your cultivation becomes. Do you accept your new path?]

Arthur Drake spat a mouthful of blood into the mud. He looked at the glowing words. A dark, violent smile formed on his broken face.

"I accept," he whispered.