My Harem of Dangerous and Crazy Women as a Reincarnated Necromancer

Mark went completely blank.

His brain stopped working for a moment to the point where not even his survival instinct kicked in.

’...Those are some seriously enormous tits.’

That was literally the first thought that came to Mark’s mind, instead of thinking that he was in danger, or who that person was, or whether he should run.

Mark instinctively looked down, taking in the stranger’s body.

The woman standing before him wasn’t exactly naked, but the difference was more of a technicality.

She wore something resembling a full-body suit made of a semi-transparent black material, similar to fishnet stockings that hugged every curve of her body like a second skin, leaving very little to the imagination.

Very, very little to the imagination.

And over her shoulders fell a long black cape that reached the floor and trailed slightly behind her, flowing with a movement of its own that corresponded to no breeze.

’That technically counts as clothing... right?’

Mark stared for a couple of seconds longer than he should have.

But then he snapped out of his daze all at once, as if someone had thrown a bucket of cold water in his face.

’Wait... who the hell am I looking at?’

The reality of his situation hit him back with the force of a truck.

He was trapped inside a dungeon, his subordinates were on the other side of a magical barrier.

And a woman who hadn’t been there thirty seconds ago had appeared behind him without anyone detecting her.

Mark swallowed and slowly raised his gaze.

It passed over lips curved in a smile that had absolutely nothing friendly about it.

It was the kind of smile a cat would give a mouse before pinning it down with its paw — not out of hunger, but out of amusement.

Until it finally reached her eyes.

Eyes of an intense red, looking down at him with a mixture of amusement and something Mark could only describe as superiority.

She was considerably taller than him.

Her hair was long and silver-gray, falling over her shoulders and reaching down to the side of her chest.

And from her head protruded a pair of long, slender black horns that curved slightly backward, completing her appearance.

’Demon horns... shit.’

The difference in height made Mark feel like a child standing in front of an adult, which did absolutely nothing to help the situation.

”Well, well, well,” the woman said in a tone halfway between mockery and condescension. ”So it was you making such a racket in my dungeon.”

Her voice was soft, but loaded with such natural authority that Mark felt as if every word were pressing his shoulders downward.

It wasn’t a voice that asked for attention.

It was a voice that demanded it.

”...What?” was all that came out of Mark’s mouth.

It wasn’t his most eloquent response, but in his defense, his brain was still trying to process the transition from staring at a massive pair of tits to probably being about to die.

The woman tilted her head slightly, without wiping away that smile.

”You ruined my beauty sleep with your little children’s game,” she said, bringing a hand to her cheek in a dramatic gesture that contrasted completely with the crushing pressure emanating from her presence. ”Do you have any idea how hard it is to get a good night’s sleep when people are fighting and screaming in your home?”

Mark didn’t answer.

He couldn’t.

Every instinct he had was screaming the same thing.

Danger.

The woman standing before Mark was dangerous at a level he couldn’t even begin to quantify.

It was like standing in front of a final boss without having done a single side quest.

Mark gathered every ounce of willpower he had to keep from taking a step back, and spoke with a slightly trembling voice, trying to sound as respectful as possible.

”I sincerely apologize for disturbing you,” Mark said, choosing each word with the care of someone who knows that one mistake could cost them their life. ”But if you’ll allow us... we’ll leave immediately and never return, you have my word.”

The woman looked at him in silence for a couple of seconds.

Mark could feel sweat running down the back of his neck — every second of silence felt like an eternity.

The woman’s red eyes studied him with a lazy curiosity, as if she were deciding whether it was even worth responding to him.

And then her smile widened.

”Unfortunately I don’t think that’s going to be possible.”

Mark’s heart stopped for an instant.

’Oh no...’

”You see,” the woman continued as she began to walk slowly around Mark.

Her footsteps made no sound against the floor, because she was barefoot.

”While the noise did wake me up... that wasn’t the reason I decided to come up from the bottom of the dungeon.”

’From the bottom of the dungeon?...’

Mark stayed frozen as the woman completed half a circle around him.

’It can’t be... is she actually...?’

Mark was already forming a pretty clear idea of who the strange woman before him was.

Or rather, what she was — because everything fit together in a way that Mark desperately wished it didn’t.

’The Demon Lord was supposed to be dead, the heroes killed him, or at least that’s what the historical records say...’

Mark clenched his fists at his sides and with what little courage he had left, he decided to ask.

”So... what was the reason you came up from so far below?”

She stopped walking and came to a halt directly in front of Mark, so close that he could see his own reflection in those red eyes.

And then she leaned slowly forward.

Bringing her face toward his until Mark could feel her breath against his skin.

Her red eyes locked onto Mark’s face, and her smile shifted into something that made every fiber of Mark’s body beg him to run.

”The reason I went to the trouble of coming up...” she said in a whisper, pronouncing each syllable with deliberate slowness, savoring every word as if enjoying the effect they were having on Mark.

”...was obviously you, my cute re-in-car-na-ted one.”

At hearing that Mark stopped breathing, and the sound of his own heartbeat was the only thing he could hear.

’...What?’

Mark’s mind went completely empty for a fraction of a second, then filled with pure panic.

’How the hell does she know that?’