NTR: Barbarian Harem Conquest

Kane spun Mjoldr once in his hand, the axe head cutting a clean arc through the air.

He had no intention of fighting hand-to-hand against something built like Shenron.

The tiger-striped male stood nearly a head taller, broader through the chest and shoulders, with the kind of raw mass that turned every exchange into a contest of leverage and bone.

Close range favored the beastkin. Kane preferred the reach and weight of the axe.

Shenron’s broadsword darkened.

Black bled along the edge of the two-hundred-year-old blade as if the metal itself had decided the spar was no longer casual.

The air around the weapon thickened. Kane felt the shift in pressure the same way he felt the Empress’s mark under his skin, hostile intent, controlled but real.

”That’s cheating.”

Shenron moved first.

The broadsword came in a horizontal cut meant to take Kane at the waist.

Kane stepped inside the arc, boot slamming into Shenron’s lead knee hard enough to force the taller male to adjust. The kick bought half a second. Shenron used it.

He dropped his weight, caught Kane’s shoulder with a free hand, and threw him.

Shit.

Kane hit the leaf litter, rolled, and came up already moving.

The black broadsword descended in a brutal overhead arc. He twisted aside.

Shing.

The blade buried itself in the earth where his chest had been, throwing up dirt and roots.

Kane didn’t give Shenron time to wrench it free.

Berserker Rage ignited.

The system didn’t ask permission. Heat flooded his limbs. Strength spiked. The world narrowed to the next three seconds.

Kane lunged, Mjoldr already swinging in a rising cut that forced Shenron to abandon the stuck sword and leap back. The axe missed by inches. Kane followed without pause, caught Shenron around the midsection with both arms, and lifted.

Shenron’s red eyes widened.

For a moment the taller, heavier beastkin left the ground completely.

Kane’s boots dug into the dirt. Muscles along his back and shoulders burned with the amplified power of the body. He turned and smashed Shenron down into the clearing floor with enough force to crack the surface root beneath them.

Bam!

The impact drove the air from Shenron’s lungs in a harsh grunt. Leaf litter exploded outward.

Kane released him and stepped back, breathing hard but steady. The Rage still hummed under his skin, but the edge of it had already begun to settle.

He laughed once, short, sharp, and genuine, while standing over the downed male.

”You weigh a ton.”

Shenron lay there for two full heartbeats, staring up at the canopy as if the trees had rearranged themselves. Then he rolled to the side, coughed, and pushed himself up onto one knee.

Blood marked the corner of his mouth. His red eyes locked on Kane with something new underneath the assessment: genuine shock.

He rose fully, retrieved the blackened broadsword, and settled back into a guard.

The spar was no longer a test of curiosity. It had become something closer to a real measure.

Before either of them could close the distance again, a familiar voice cut across the clearing.

”I knew it.”

Kessa stepped out from between the trees, striped tail flicking, ears angled forward.

She had clearly followed them. Her eyes moved from the cracked earth where Shenron had landed to the shallow cut on Kane’s forearm to the blood still dripping from Mjoldr’s edge.

Shenron wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand and did not lower the broadsword.

”How long have you been watching?”

”Long enough to see him pick you up and put you through the ground.” Kessa walked into the clearing without any sign of concern.

”You always did underestimate humans who stop fighting like humans.”

Kane rested Mjoldr against his shoulder. The Berserker power had fully receded, leaving the usual residual heat in his muscles and the faint pulse of the Empress’s marks under his skin.

”Your brother wanted a spar,” he said. ”I gave him one.”

Shenron’s red eyes narrowed.

”You activated something. Your strength jumped. That wasn’t normal.”

”It isn’t.” Kane saw no reason to lie.

”It’s my power. Costs me afterward, but it closes gaps that size and weight would normally keep open.”

Kessa circled them once, inspecting the damage to the clearing with open interest.

”You should see what he does when he stops holding back entirely. That little smash was polite.”

Shenron finally lowered the broadsword a fraction. The black along the edge faded, returning the metal to its usual dark grey. He looked at Kane for a long moment, then at his sister, then back again.

”You care for her,” he said. It was not a question this time.

”I do.”

”And if Grathak decides the only way you leave his territory is in pieces?”

Kane’s mouth curved without humor.

”Then I make sure the pieces I leave behind are his.”

Kessa’s tail lashed once in clear approval. Shenron exhaled through his nose, a sound that might have been reluctant acceptance or simple exhaustion from being slammed into the forest floor.

”The true border is another half-day’s walk from the settlement,” he said.

”I will take you that far. After the marker stones, you are outside my authority and inside his. The packs there do not care about tournament victories or human tricks. They care about whether you can bleed and whether you can be broken.”

Kane nodded.

”Understood.”

Kessa stepped between them and gave her brother’s arm a light shove.

”You look like you need a drink and a woman. Or three. Go back. I’ll keep him from killing any more mutants on the way in.”

Shenron shot her a look that carried years of sibling history, then turned it on Kane one last time.

”If you get her killed, I will finish what this spar started. Rage or no Rage.”

”If I get her killed,” Kane answered, ”I will already be dead.”

That earned the closest thing to a real nod Shenron had offered since they met. The taller male turned and started back toward the settlement, broadsword resting across one shoulder, long brown hair shifting with each stride.

He didn’t look back.

Kessa waited until he was out of earshot before she leaned into Kane’s side and rested her forehead briefly against his shoulder.

”You really did put him through the ground.”

”He threw me first.”

”I saw. It made me heat up.”

She grinned up at him, sharp canines flashing.

”Next time you decide to spar with my family, warn me so I can place bets.”

Kane glanced down at the cracked earth, then at the shallow cut on his arm that had already stopped bleeding.

”Next time I might not stop at polite.”