Demonic Dragon: Harem System

In the skies above the dark clouds that covered the continent, a storm of wings and power advanced toward Vorah.

An army of dragons of different colors, shapes, and essences cut through the air with majesty and urgency. Their scales reflected the light of the setting sun, creating a golden and red spectacle, as if the firmament itself were burning.

At the center of the formation, flying majestically in his true draconic form, Strax led the charge. His scales glowed in smoky tones, his eyes like living embers—watchful and impatient. On his back, steady even against the biting wind, were Cristine, Frieren, Rogue, and Lithara, their eyes fixed on the horizon.

But there was something in the air. A metallic taste. A strange whisper in the magical currents.

Strax narrowed his eyes, feeling a twinge in his ancestral stomach that no mortal would understand.

"Something is wrong." His voice echoed not with fear, but with the weight of a premonition. Serious. Instinctive. Unquestionable.

The winds carried more than the heat of war—there was the smell of blood. Of magic. Of death.

To his left, Beatrice, floating and focused, flew alongside Monica, who glided with ease, her pink and blue aura oscillating like a fluid dance among the clouds. Samira, shrouded in red mists, already sensing the battlefield approaching.

Just above, in protective circles, flew Scarlet, her flames cutting through the air like comet trails, and Cassandra, her icy aura almost invisible to the naked eye. Daniela and Bellatrix exchanged signals between themselves, both pulsing with combat energy about to be unleashed.

And behind, guarding the rear, came Tiamat, with her multiple eyes always alert, and Ouroboros, with her heavy, silent flight like judgment. Kali, with black wings and claws of pure ether, was a shadow among the clouds, ready to descend like lightning on any threat.

Vorah was close. They could see the outlines of the wall, the smoke rising in dense spirals. Sounds of explosions. Screams. And the roar of something much larger than ordinary dragons.

Strax flew faster, his body tearing through the sky.

"Hold on tight," he warned those riding on his back. "We don't have time. What's down there... it looks like we're under attack."

Lithara, her face pale, whispered... "A Primordial Dragon..."

Everyone looked at each other. The silence that followed was more eloquent than any battle cry.

The group tightened their formation. The sky opened up ahead—and soon, Vorah appeared in its entirety, burning between fire and ice, light and shadow.

And at the center of the destruction, like the epicenter of a living catastrophe, a colossal dragon with black scales and green eyes stood, defying all that breathed. A monster so vast that it seemed to belong to an age forgotten by the gods themselves.

"Holy shit." He said.

Strax hovered in the air, spreading his enormous flaming wings with enough force to disperse the nearby clouds. His fiery gaze descended upon the ruins and flames of Vorah, the capital engulfed in chaos.

The roar of the Primordial Dragon still echoed among the mountains, deep and guttural, as if reality itself trembled with his presence.

He remained suspended in the sky, the wind beating against his colossal body, his eyes closed for a moment. He took a deep breath—not air, but magical essence. Then his eyes opened, vertical pupils glowing brightly with amber light. He concentrated, opening his mana perception.

"Xenovia... Kryssia..." he murmured, as if calling to them through the veil of magic.

Golden waves expanded from his chest, an aura pulsing like mystical sonar. He scanned the distortions of the battlefield with his mind, searching not just for presences—but identities. Specific auras. Fragments of power that only he would recognize.

Cristine clenched her fists behind her back. "Can you feel anything?"

Strax responded with a guttural grunt, his eyes darting in various directions. Below, enemy dragons were being struck down one by one by his wives—a spectacle of destruction and precision. Cassandra hurled giant ice spears that impaled enemies in midair. Scarlet sliced through the sky in living flames, and Beatrice conjured illusions and spells that confused the minds of their enemies, leading them to ruin.

But that wasn't enough.

They were in danger.

And he needed to know where.

"There..." Strax growled, his eyes fixed on a spot southeast of the city, near the wall that now lay in ruins. "Xenovia's aura... is weak. But she's still alive."

"And Kryssia?" asked Rogue, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

"Fighting," Strax said through clenched teeth. "But overwhelmed. They're surrounded. And there's... something beyond the Primordial. A second presence, distorted... unstable."

Frieren raised her head, her eyes lighting up with an ethereal glow.

"Someone is manipulating the magic field. The flow is corrupted."

"So it's not just an invasion... it's an ambush," Lithara murmured.

Strax narrowed his eyes, the heat in his body rising in visible spirals around his scales. He was beginning to enter a state of rage—but he forced himself to maintain control.

"Scarlet! Cassandra! Go down and make your way to the south wall. Find Xenovia and Kryssia. Protect them. Kill everything that moves and is an enemy. Use whatever you have."

"With pleasure, I need to test fighting with this body," replied Scarlet, already plunging into free fall, her body enveloped in a vortex of fire.

Cassandra followed her immediately, summoning an ice storm around her, shaping crystalline spears that pierced the enemies who dared to approach.

"Beatrice, Monica, Samira—provide air cover. Eliminate any dragons that try to block the descent."

The three nodded and dispersed into triangular formations, casting devastating spells as they flew in low arcs.

"Tiamat, Ouroboros, Kali—you stay with me. We will confront the Primordial. This thing... cannot remain in Vorah."

Tiamat let out an ancient growl, her multiple voices vibrating in the minds of all present. "Finally, a worthy challenge."

Ouroboros slowly opened its jaws, revealing layers of sword-like teeth, before rising higher, gathering momentum. Kali raised a claw, conjuring several black swords of pure essence that floated around her body before accelerating toward the colossus.

Strax looked once more at the city, and what he saw made him grit his teeth.

Xenovia was surrounded, her body covered in blood, but her eyes still burned with determination. Kryssia fought alongside her, her wings broken in places, but her axe glowed with raw power, tearing off the head of yet another smaller dragon.

But right behind them, the Primordial Dragon advanced, like a living mountain. And behind him... something even worse was forming. A shapeless veil of darkness enveloped a figure of humanoid proportions, but whose presence rivaled that of an ancient god.

"Enough." Strax growled. His voice became thunder that reverberated through the skies.

"I will crush this evil with my own claws."