NTR: Barbarian Harem Conquest

Pulling a simple linen cloak over his shoulders, Kane stepped out of the central keep and navigated toward the bustling outer gates.

Keeping his hood pulled low allowed him to observe the influx of caravans without drawing immediate, disruptive salutes from every passing soldier.

His presence usually caused a panic, and today he preferred the anonymity of a common traveler observing a masterpiece in motion.

The newly paved roads were already packed with traders shouting prices and hauling wooden crates filled with raw materials.

Carts overflowing with northern grain, rare southern silks, and unrefined ores rolled steadily through the designated checkpoints.

Up on the stone walls, armed guards maintained a vigilant patrol, effectively discouraging any foolish thieves who might try to test the city’s upgraded security measures.

Down below, Firlia’s handpicked tax collectors were diligently weighing silver coins and stamping entry manifests with ruthless efficiency, ensuring no one slipped past without contributing to the warlord’s growing treasury.

A translucent blue screen suddenly chimed to life right in his peripheral vision, momentarily obscuring a cart full of spices.

[Milestone Reached: Regional Trade Hub Established. Passive Income Generated: +300 Silver per hour.]

’They are marching right into my trap,’ Kane noted with a chuckle, dismissing the notification with a casual thought as he leaned against a wooden pillar.

’Handing over their fortunes just for the privilege of sleeping safely behind my reinforced walls. Building an empire is far more profitable than burning one down.’

Moving deeper into the market square, Kane caught the sound of a heated argument echoing near the departure lane.

An older, particularly wealthy-looking merchant wearing velvet robes was waving a fat finger directly in the face of a young toll guard.

The merchant’s hired muscle stood close behind him, looking entirely too smug as they rested their hands on their sword hilts.

”Two silver coins for an exit tax is robbery!” the merchant spat, his face turning a vibrant shade of purple.

”I already paid a premium to get inside this fortress, boy! You cannot charge me twice just to leave!”

The young guard held his ground, though his spear wobbled slightly under the verbal assault.

”Sir, it is the new policy for all alchemical exports. I cannot waive the fee, no matter who you represent. The Warlord’s orders are final.”

”I am telling you to lower the price, or I will take my business to the western guilds!” the merchant threatened, crossing his arms in defiance.

”Let us see how your precious commander likes losing a vital supplier over a few extra coins!”

Stepping smoothly into the conversation, Kane pulled his hood back to reveal his face.

”You paid for entry, my friend. Taking our finest alchemical brews out of my city costs extra.”

The merchant spun around, opening his mouth to issue another threat, yet the words died instantly in his throat.

All the color drained from his face as he recognized the Warlord standing casually before him. His smug guards suddenly found the cobblestones extremely interesting, actively avoiding eye contact while stepping away from their employer.

”Commander Kane...” the merchant stammered, taking a hurried step backward.

”I... I only meant that the margins are very tight this season, and the travel costs are exceptionally high.”

”Then do not buy them,” Kane smiled pleasantly, gesturing toward the open gates with an inviting sweep of his hand.

”I am sure the northern lords will gladly pay double for potions that allow their soldiers to march for three days without sleep. You can always fill your carts with standard wheat instead and try to sell that to a hungry army. I hear grain margins are excellent this time of year.”

Swallowing hard, the merchant quickly reached into his velvet pouch and pulled out a stack of coins.

”Two silver per crate is entirely reasonable, Commander. Please, forgive my outburst. The midday sun must be affecting my temper.”

”See that it does not affect your math,” Kane advised, motioning for the young guard to collect the payment.

”Safe travels.”

Watching the merchant hurry back to his wagon, Kane pulled his cloak tight again and blended back into the moving crowd.

’Greed is the most predictable weapon in the entire world,’ Kane reasoned, weaving through a group of haggling mercenaries.

’Point it in the right direction, and it does all the fighting for you. They will complain about the prices today, yet they will keep coming back tomorrow because my goods win their little border skirmishes.’

Seeking a quiet spot away from the deafening noise of the market, Kane retreated into the shadows of the western gatehouse.

The stone alcove provided a perfect vantage point to monitor the trade routes while offering enough privacy to consult his interface once more.

Bringing up his territory map, he watched as a wave of blue color slowly expanded across the projection.

The surrounding human settlements were steadily changing their allegiance markers, indicating a total economic dependency on Menual’s exports.

Soon, those neighboring lords would be paying him just to maintain their own borders, entirely reliant on his mana-forged steel to defend their fragile thrones.

Satisfied with the regional control, Kane zoomed the map outward, shifting his focus toward the dense forests marking the Elven territory.

Selecting the border city of Sylvander, he tapped the glowing icon.

A complex web of red defensive lines immediately flared across the screen, representing the ancient magical barriers protecting their lands from outside invasion. For centuries, those lines had kept human armies at bay, frustrating countless kings and emperors.

Reaching into his system inventory, Kane retrieved the mental note containing the bypass codes Seraphine had provided during her midnight visit. He carefully input the complex sequence of magical runes into the flashing prompt on his screen.

The interface chimed a successful confirmation.

One by one, the red defensive lines flickered, destabilized, and vanished entirely from the projection.

The Elven city sat completely exposed, stripped bare of its magical protections and vulnerable to his future maneuvers.

’Enjoy your peace for a few more days, Queen.’