NTR: Barbarian Harem Conquest

Riding northwest on their second day of travel, the group finally pulled their horses to a halt.

”Wait,” Thora’s bells gave us an alert.

Down in the valley, the main road was occupied.

”What is that?

A hundred women marched in perfect formation.

These were Milfheim field soldiers, completely different from the decorative guards meant for court displays.

They wore dark iron armor trimmed with gold, bearing a striking eagle emblem stamped proudly across their breastplates.

Moving with synchronized precision, they marched east straight toward elven territory.

’The Empress never even waited for our scheduled meeting,’ Kane realized, resting his hands casually on the saddle horn.

’She received Firlia’s message and mobilized her people instantly. I conjecture she already knew about the threat. Firlia’s intelligence just confirmed a nightmare she had been watching develop for years.’

Rutheus guided his horse right beside Kane.

”That’s a forward recon force. Not a full invasion column. They brought no slow supply wagons, wear light armor, and maintain a very fast march pace. She sent them to assess the western pass situation.”

”Directly toward us.”

”She sent them toward the Elven border,” Rutheus clarified, adjusting his grip on the reins.

”We just happen to be standing on the road.”

Caelindra leaned forward in her saddle, her instincts instantly taking over.

”This is technically a Milfheim military force actively moving into disputed border territory. The elven war room will immediately interpret this sudden movement as...”

”A second front,” Kane finished for her, smiling thinly.

Lyssel let out a laugh from the back of the group.

”My father’s sudden political concerns feel prescient right now.”

Down below, the marching column spotted the riders.

Adjusting their formation, the soldiers didn’t take an aggressively hostile stance, but they certainly prepared for one.

A hundred warrior women stopped to evaluate the mixed group on the ridge, focusing entirely on the red-haired barbarian carrying a crimson axe at the front.

Their commander rode out from the center of the formation.

She stood out easily even from a considerable distance.

With armor containing a different emblem, she must be a higher rank.

Sitting tall on her mount, she carried the posture of a woman who never considered backing down from anything in her entire life.

Kane studied her gear closely.

It felt similar to the divine-chosen quality of the Knights of Elfheim, yet it originated from a completely different source.

Milfheim drew its imperial legitimacy from a separate divine lineage, completely disconnected from the World Tree.

These women served something the game lore called the Celestial Mandate.

[Scan: Commander - Seraphine]

[First Blade of the Celestial Mandate]

[Stage: Stormforged - Peak]

[Note: She is significantly more dangerous than the elven prince.]

Riding toward them alone, the commander stopped exactly twenty meters away.

”You’re Kane of the Bloodfang Clan,” she announced.

”The current tournament champion of the Celestial Aurora. The savage who chopped off the elven heir’s arm.”

”Yes.”

”The Empress received your message,” Seraphine continued, her voice projecting effortlessly up the ridge.

”She dispatched me to assess whether the man who sent it was actually worth meeting in person.”

”And?” Kane prompted.

Seraphine evaluated him with the flat, calculating attention of a veteran doing a professional risk assessment.

”You’re quite smaller than the royal reports suggested.”

”I get that a lot,” Kane chuckled.

”The Empress considers her time valuable,” Seraphine warned, her eyes narrowing.

”I refuse to bring her meetings that waste her energy. I need to know if you are truly worth her time.”

”Ask me something,” Kane offered, crossing his arms.

”Menual’s western pass force,” Seraphine demanded instantly.

”Give me their composition.”

”Eight hundred light cavalry, two hundred heavy infantry, twelve siege engines,” Kane rattled off without missing a single beat.

”They timed it to move when your military is oriented east toward the Elven border. Those siege engines are explicitly designed to take city walls completely intact as they desperately want your harbor infrastructure fully functional. They are planning a permanent occupation.”

Seraphine went still.

”Those siege engine specifications,” she asked, her tone shifting into something much sharper.

”How could you possibly know them?”

”I raided their forward scouting camp four days ago,” Kane answered casually, leaning forward.

”The commanding officer was very talkative right before he died.”

A tense pause settled over the valley.

”The Empress demands tangible proof before she redirects an entire military force,” Seraphine countered.

”Anyone can stand there and claim to possess stolen intelligence. What do you actually have that isn’t just pretty words?”

Kane stared right back at her.

”What do you need?”

”I need to know what kind of man you really are,” Seraphine declared.

”The Empress does not work with men she cannot assess. And I never bring her men I haven’t personally assessed myself.”

Reaching over her shoulder, she drew her sword.

Forged from pure white steel, the divine designation ran visibly right through the blade itself.

It looked like a tool crafted for one person, used for so long that it essentially became an extension of her own arm.

”Fight me,” she ordered.

Right behind Kane, Kessa shifted her weight, her hand dropping toward her weapons.

Rutheus tightened his grip on his reins.

Sira lifted her composite bow just a fraction of an inch.

Raising one hand, Kane stopped them without even turning around.

Studying Seraphine, he focused on the white sword and remembered the brutal system assessment he just read.

Stormforged Peak.

She operated on a level far above the golden prince.

’The magical bond amplification is gone,’ Kane realized.

’That was just a one-time event caused by Grieselda’s ancient seal dissolving. I’ve to fight this terrifying woman at my baseline level.’

”Terms?” Kane requested.

”First blood or yield,” Seraphine proposed confidently.

”I’m not here to execute you. I want to see how you move.”

”No terms,” Kane corrected her.

”Full fight. I refuse to do first blood, as a little scratch doesn’t tell you anything remotely useful about a person’s true character.”

Seraphine stared at him, slightly taken aback by his sheer audacity.

”Full fight,” she agreed slowly.

”But I need you breathing to meet the Empress.”

”It’s a deal.”