Champion Of Lust: Gods Conquer's Harem Paradise!

Minute Ago

Pyris moved through the ranks of the empresses like a seasoned predator among rare and delicate prey. The men—emperors, lords, and kings—stood at a distance, their expressions ranging from simmering irritation to carefully crafted neutrality. But none dared to interfere. Not here.

Not in this hall, where power wasn't merely dictated by status or lineage, but by influence, wit, and presence.

For men like Dracula, it was almost amusing—watching powerful rulers, men who commanded armies and territories, stand helpless as a teenager openly charmed their women. He could only thank his foresight for not bringing one of his own, lest he find himself among the teeth-gnashers.

They all knew Pyris was doing this on purpose. If he had any intention of subtlety, he would have played this game with far more finesse, waited for private moments, built intrigue behind closed doors.

But he wanted them to see. He wanted them to know.

And yet, they were all wrong about the reason.

_

[Ding! The Goddess of Lust is watching. As her champion, make a first impression on the powerful women in the hall. Make the Goddess proud.

Mission: Flirt openly with the empresses and make them curious about you while their men watch!

Reward: Insatiable Aura, Full Lust Abilities integration!]

_

Was the Goddess truly entertained by such trivial games, or was she simply amused by how effortlessly he could disrupt the balance of power in a room? Pyris wasn't sure, but in the end, he didn't care. The rewards were too good to ignore.

Besides, this had already been part of his plan—only now, he would do it with even greater audacity.

His gaze flickered to his first mark: Madam Serenova.

Regal, untouchable. A woman of flawless restraint.

Pyris didn't simply approach her. He owned the space between them, closing the distance with the kind of self-assurance that made powerful women take notice. His steps were slow, deliberate, his presence radiating a gravitational pull that left even the most composed of them intrigued.

"Madam Serenova," he greeted, his voice lowering just enough to add an edge of intimacy. Respectful—yes. But nothing about his tone was conventional. "Such grace, such restraint. It's almost a tragedy to see it so carefully guarded."

She was unshakable, her elegance refined to an art. But Pyris had spent enough time around dangerous women to recognize the subtle signs: the fractional parting of her lips, the momentary pause in her breath. She felt it.

And he saw it.

"And why would you say that?" Serenova asked, her voice smooth as ever, yet tinged with the barest wisp of curiosity.

Pyris's fingers ghosted over the back of her hand—so fleeting, so unbearably light that it could be mistaken for nothing at all. But she felt it. The pulse beneath her skin betrayed her, just enough for him to know he was treading on dangerous, yet welcoming, ground.

"Because," he murmured, tilting his head slightly, his eyes locked onto hers, "a woman like you deserves someone who can truly appreciate the fire beneath the ice."

For the briefest moment, a flicker of something deep, something buried crossed her gaze.

Intrigue.

Temptation.

He had her attention now.

Her smile was practiced, cool as ever. Yet, Pyris caught the imperceptible change in her stance—the slight shift of weight, the way her shoulders relaxed just a fraction too much, as if unconsciously drawing him in.

"Flattery, Pyris. You're quite good at it."

"Not flattery," he countered smoothly, his lips curving into a slow, knowing smile. "Just honesty."

A amusement danced in her eyes, but before she could retort, before she could decide whether to play or dismiss, Pyris stepped past her with fluid ease, his gaze already set on the next target.

He was far from finished.

Madam Serenova leaned back ever so slightly, a slow, knowing smile curving her lips.

She had danced this dance before, entertained countless suitors, men and women alike, but Pyris was something else entirely. He played the game with an ease that suggested he wasn't merely trying to charm her-—he was enjoying himself, and that made all the difference.

Days ago, she'd teased her daughter, Selene, about taking Pyris for herself if the girl continued to deny her feelings.

After all, someone had to claim him, didn't they? Selene had turned scarlet at the suggestion, sputtering out weak protests while Madam Serenova had laughed in amusement. She had meant it as a jest, yet now, standing before the source of that very teasing, she found herself unexpectedly intrigued.

He wasn't just flirting with the women present, powerful in their own right, some married, some sought after. No, Pyris was making a statement.

He was doing it in front of everyone, their spouses, their admirers-without hesitation, without fear. And now, here he was, offering the same boldness to her, the woman many considered the most powerful in the mortal realm.

A challenge, then? Very well. She would oblige him.

"You do realize, Pyris," she said, tilting her head, her fingers tracing the stem of her untouched glass, "that making such advances in public, in front of so many witnesses, is quite... daring."

His smirk deepened, that same insufferable confidence never wavering. "Would it be more acceptable if I did it in private?"

She chuckled, low and rich. "That would depend entirely on how well you keep your promises. Words are cheap, Pyris. I find actions far more impressive."

His eyes darkened slightly, amusement flickering with something more profound. "Then I'll have to ensure you're very impressed."

Unshakable control, but Pyris—this bold, unpredictable young man—was testing the limits of that control. He was dangerous in a way that had nothing to do with power and everything to do with presence.

And she was intrigued.

She leaned slightly forward, just enough to close the space between them, her voice as smooth as the finest silk. "You speak as if you've already unraveled all my secrets, Pyris. Tell me, what else have you deduced?" A hint of amusement danced in her eyes, but there was something else there too—curiosity.

Pyris smirked, knowing he had her attention now. "That you enjoy the game more than you let on. That despite your reputation, there's a part of you that craves something... unexpected. Something thrilling."

Madam Serenova chuckled, a low, melodic sound that sent a ripple of unease through the men watching. "Oh? And are you offering to be my thrill, Pyris?"