The ritual circles were arranged in a complex heptagonal pattern around the grand hall, each one glowing with its own inner light. The seven crystals floated at precise points, humming in harmony as their energy built to crescendo. I stood in the center, feeling the weight of destiny pressing down on me like a physical force.
As the power began to flow, I found myself wondering about what I'd been seeing, feeling, experiencing. Was it the nature of this world that made these women—beautiful, insanely powerful beings—radiate such raw sensuality with every casual movement? The way tension in their bodies caused them to react in such intensely sensual ways, how their breathing, their postures, even their anger seemed to drip with desire?
Maybe it was because men were so scarce—only thirty percent of the population. Perhaps that scarcity had evolved women to be naturally more sexually charged, more attuned to desire and attraction as a survival mechanism. Or maybe it was my eyes, my perception, my growing connection to lust and desire that let me see details others couldn't.
The fact that I could perceive even Magister Celestine's immortal body with such clarity was particularly telling. Immortal bodies were supposed to be beyond mortal perception, yet I could see every curve, every breath, every reaction with startling detail. Her twilight eyes, the way her unrestrained breasts moved beneath those liquid-night robes, the flush that colored her perfect skin when my power pulsed outward.
Maybe it was all of those reasons combined, or something else entirely that I didn't understand yet.
But I didn't have time to puzzle it out further.
Magister Celestine stepped into position at the edge of the ritual circle, and suddenly the very air around her began to change. Her twilight eyes blazed with power that made them look like miniature galaxies, and her silver hair started floating as if suspended in invisible cosmic winds.
"Stand back," she commanded my family, her voice carrying harmonics that made the crystalline formations resonate in response. "What I'm about to channel would incinerate any mortal who got too close."
She raised her hands, and I felt the temperature in the room drop by twenty degrees in an instant. Not cold—just the absence of heat as energy was drawn from the very molecules around us. The air itself began to shimmer and distort as she gathered power that had been accumulating for centuries.
"By the ancient pacts," she intoned, her voice now carrying the weight of eons, "by the power granted to those who transcend mortality, I call upon the deepest wells of magical force."
The effect was immediate and terrifying.
Energy began pouring from her hands in streams of pure, condensed magic that made the air itself crack and spark. The power she was channeling wasn't just impressive—it was cosmic in scale. I could feel it pressing against my consciousness like the weight of entire star systems, raw magical force that would have vaporized a normal awakening ritual in microseconds.
The seven crystals responded instantly, their humming rising to a pitch that made my bones vibrate. But even these ancient artifacts seemed strained by the amount of energy Magister Celestine was pouring through them. The one pulsing with desire-colored light began to glow so brightly it hurt to look at directly.
"This level of power," she said, her voice now layered with harmonics that spoke of millennia of accumulated magical knowledge, "should be enough to awaken the magical potential of an entire city. For one individual..."
She looked at me with something approaching awe, even as cosmic forces swirled around her like she was the center of a magical hurricane.
"Just what are you, Marcus von Ravencrest?"
The power hit me like a tidal wave of liquid fire, rushing through my veins and awakening something deep in my core that had been sleeping my entire life. But the sheer scale of what she was channeling—energy that could reshape reality itself, magic that felt older than civilization—made it clear that whatever I was becoming required power on a level that defied all normal understanding.
But something was wrong.
The magic felt... different. Darker. More complex than what I'd been told to expect. The crystal that pulsed with the color of pure desire was blazing now, sending waves of heat through my body that had nothing to do with temperature and everything to do with raw, primal need.
Magister Celestine's expressions shifted from formal ceremony to surprise, then to something approaching alarm.
"This isn't... this isn't normal awakening energy," she breathed, her voice shaking as she struggled to maintain control of the ritual.
The other crystals began resonating in ways that made the air itself thrum with power. Reality started to fracture around me - the walls of the hall flickering between solid stone and something that looked like star-filled void, time dilating so that moments stretched into eternities.
My family's faces were frozen in expressions of awe and growing concern. Anna's mouth was open in a silent gasp, her maid's dress outlining her trembling form.
Cassandra's fire magic was spiraling out of control, tiny flames dancing around her emerald-clad figure. Lyanna's analytical mask had completely shattered, replaced by raw amazement. My mother looked like she was witnessing something that terrified and thrilled her in equal measure.
And Magister Celestine... her immortal composure was cracking like glass, her twilight eyes wide with something that might have been recognition.
"What kind of power is this?" she whispered.
The energy around me pulsed stronger, and I felt something else awakening—something that felt familiar in a way that made my skin crawl. A presence, ancient and bitter, reaching across impossible distances to touch my consciousness.
Then everything went dark.
I awakened in a realm of swirling darkness, standing on what felt like solid shadow beneath my feet. The air tasted of rage and old blood, and in front of me loomed a figure that radiated malevolent power.
He was tall, perhaps seven feet, with the build of a warrior and the bearing of a king. His hair was dark as midnight, his skin pale as death, and his eyes burned with the fury of a thousand betrayals. He wore armor that looked like it had been forged from crystallized hatred, and when he smiled, his teeth gleamed like ivory daggers.
"Finally," he said, his voice echoing through the void realm with the weight of millennia. "Do you know who I am, boy?"
This scene is familiar to me, at least I have read like hundreds of such scenes to know what was going on here!
I looked at this obvious final boss wannabe and couldn't help but snort. "Let me guess,—you're the brooding edgelord who's about to monologue about your tragic backstory?"
His impressive scowl faltered slightly. "I... what?"
"Oh come on," I continued, gesturing at his whole setup. "Dark realm? Check. Crystallized hatred armor? Check. Burning eyes of vengeance? Check. You're hitting every villain cliché in the book, dude."
"I am VALDRIS THE ETERNAL!" he roared, clearly flustered that his dramatic introduction wasn't going as planned. "Once the greatest Harem King this world had ever seen!"
"Harem King?" I burst out laughing. "Holy shit, that's actually your title? What's next, are you going to tell me you had a thousand wives and they all betrayed you because you're a nice guy?"
His eye twitched. "I commanded the loyalty and love of hundreds of the most powerful women across all six empires. Empresses, queens, goddesses themselves knelt before me willingly!"
"Uh-huh, sure they did." I rolled my eyes. "Let me guess what happened next—they all conspired against you because women are evil and you never saw it coming?"
"THEY MURDERED ME IN MY SLEEP!" he screamed, completely losing his composure. "Led by the very women I trusted most! My own wives, my beloved consorts—"
"Wait, wait, wait," I interrupted, holding up my hand. "You're telling me you had hundreds of powerful women, and your master plan was... what, exactly? To control all of them? And you're surprised it backfired?"
"I loved them!"
"You collected them," I corrected. "There's a difference. Jesus, no wonder they shanked you. I would have too."
Valdris looked like he was having a stroke. "You... you dare mock my pain?"
"Your pain? Dude, you literally just told me your life story was 'I collected women like Pokémon cards and got surprised when they decided I was a creep.' That's not tragic, that's natural selection."
"You don't understand!" he snarled. "I want you to be my vessel! To infiltrate their matriarchal system and—"
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