Demonic Dragon: Harem System

After squeezing Strax tightly, almost breaking his ribs, Xenovia finally let go. Her eyes, still teary, analyzed him as if she were looking at something precious—and, at the same time, strange.

"You've changed again, huh..." she muttered, crossing her arms. There was affection in her voice, but also a hint of poorly concealed concern.

Strax just smiled, a discreet smile, but one laden with acceptance. "I don't have many choices... except to keep getting stronger."

He rose slowly, adjusting the torn cloak over his shoulders as the heat around him finally began to subside.

Before Xenovia could respond, a voice intruded with the familiarity of someone who had been there all along:

"They appeared out of nowhere," said Kryssia, appearing to Strax's right like a well-meaning shadow. Her silver hair danced in the wind, and her eyes remained fixed on the devastated sky. "They came from that direction. Hiding their presence... until the last second."

She raised her arm and pointed to the horizon covered in smoke and lightning. The silence that followed was heavy... until Scarlet spoke up, a few feet away, her eyes narrowed as if probing the world.

"East..." she murmured. "That's the direction of Caelum. The Kingdom of the Dragonoids."

The word hung in the air like a knife about to fall.

Strax narrowed his eyes, his expression hardening. "Dragonoids..." he repeated with controlled disdain. "You mean... they weren't real Dragons."

Scarlet nodded slowly, walking toward the group. "Correct. They are a hybrid race, a lesser offshoot of dragons. Still powerful... but incomplete."

She took a deep breath before continuing. "After the Great Draco-Demonic War, the pure dragons... were almost completely wiped out."

The weight of the sentence fell on everyone like a stone on their backs.

For a moment, the group was silent.

Beatrice, Monica, Samira, Cassandra, Daniela, Bellatrix, Tiamat, Ouroboros, Kali... and of course, Strax — all exchanged glances with each other.

It was Frieren, with a wry smile and her arms behind her back, who broke the tension: "Hmmm... so, extinct, huh?" she said, her melodic voice almost mocking. "Curious. Because... if I'm not mistaken, there are eleven dragons right here."

She turned on her heels, pointing surreptitiously at each one with her chin, as if counting rare coins. "One... two... three..."

Scarlet cleared her throat, visibly uncomfortable.

"Cough... cough... Yes, well, that's changed in the last few days, okay?" She crossed her arms, her tone trying to sound superior, but there was a hint of embarrassment.

"Even with over three thousand years of life, I've only seen... I don't know, five dragons in all that time. Pure dragons, at least."

"Ohhh, only five?" said Frieren with feigned surprise. 'Well, in my humble ten thousand years, I've seen... a good three dozen, maybe? Forty if you count the drunks.'

She shrugged and smiled crookedly. "But she's right... The war wiped out most of them. The world lost its dragons before it even knew what they really were."

Strax looked at everyone there—millennial beings, almost mythical entities... and yet united by something deeper than time or power: a war that is not yet over.

He took a deep breath. "So... Caelum sent the dragon-kin here. Looking for something... or someone."

His red eyes flashed again, like embers awakening. "And now we know where the poison flows from."

Strax let out a slight yawn, raising his arms in a long, deliberate stretch, as if the tension of battle was finally dissolving from his body.

"Let's see what we can do," he said, cracking his shoulders at the end of the movement. "The priority now is to try to help those who lost everything in the attack by those bastards. The villages around here were engulfed in flames... we can't pretend nothing happened."

He looked around, seeing the remnants of destruction: fallen towers, ruined houses, the sky still stained with soot. The sounds of the wounded and the sobs of those who had lost family members echoed in the background like a raw reminder of the chaos.

"I'm going to Vorah's mansion," he added, his voice colder, firmer. His eyes sharpened. 'I want to know where that old son of a bitch of a father of mine is.'

The name fell like a rock in the middle of the group.

Kryssia raised an eyebrow. "I figured he would, but that retard probably won't be there. After all, he didn't lift a finger to help his own people."

Strax gave a half-smile—but there was no humor in it. "He never helps anyone around here. And if he's not there... then at least we'll know who is. It must be Diana who's in charge." Strax spoke calmly, though he sounded aggressive.

Scarlet approached silently, her eyes carrying a concern that dared not turn to tears. She reached out, resting her hand lightly on Strax's arm — as if trying to anchor a storm.

"Do you want someone to go with you?" she asked, almost in a whisper. Her voice was calm, but the tension beneath the surface was evident. She didn't say it, but she feared... she feared seeing him succumb again, turning into that—the titanic monster with black scales and eyes that burned like dying suns.

Strax stared at the horizon for a long moment before answering.

He shook his head slowly, the gesture firm but without arrogance.

"No... this is between me and him." He turned partially toward her, a small smile attempting to soften the weight of what was to come. "It's okay. I'm in control this time."

Those words were for her — but also for himself.

He paused. His eyes, once soft, hardened with the memory. "There are old scores to settle."

From the back of the group, Frieren let out a melodious, mocking whistle. "Ah, family drama. Nothing like that to spice up an interdimensional investigation involving mutant dragons and floating kingdoms."

Bellatrix crossed her arms and laughed through her nose. "If you're going to set fire to the mansion, let me know. I'll bring the firewood and some good laughs."

Strax didn't answer. He just gave a brief nod, the kind of gesture that ends conversations and starts wars. He turned on his heels.

"Kryssia," he said without turning around, 'organize the others. Protect the civilians.'

"Samira, Monica—gather the survivors. Create shelters with what's left."

"Kali—the wounded are your priority now. Use whatever you need."

"Understood," they all said almost at the same time, as one body, one will. It wasn't blind obedience — it was respect earned in blood and trust forged in a thousand battles.

Scarlet accompanied him for a few more steps, her voice now tinged with something more intimate: "Be careful, Strax..." she said, stopping beside him. Her eyes sought his, as if hoping to see the man and not the beast.

Strax stopped.

He took a deep breath.

The intense red of his eyes glowed in the dim twilight, but his expression was sober. Almost... calm.

"Relax, I'm fine," he murmured.