As a Goblin, I will have a harem

Check out my patreon to read 22+ advance chapters.

Patreon: patreon.com/HAREMLOVER

__________

The next moment, Freya's eyes widened, her gaze unfocused, and her beautiful face lost its radiance.

At that moment, she had fully reaped the consequences of her own actions.

"Asshole..." Freya uttered the last two words in a staccato voice, before she could speak no more.

Despite her body being completely exhausted, Freya still refused to give up. She tried to lift her head, glaring at Lorraine, who stood before her.

"You! You goblin... who are you? What do you want to do to me?" She demanded.

Lorraine, looking at the princess in front of him, couldn't help but brush off the dust from his clothes. He had just been dragged into the tent by Freya, and now he was set on taking his revenge.

Thinking this, Lorraine raised his head and took a good look at the first princess of the Kingdom of Giorar, the future hero of [Magic].

Her hair was as soft as light peach, swaying gently in the breeze, exuding a faint sheen. Her eyes were as clear as the green fields in spring, revealing an irresistible charm, as if she could see into the depths of one's soul.

Her curvy figure and plump breasts were perfectly proportioned to her stunning body, making her the center of attention wherever she went.

Her beauty wasn't just skin-deep; her captivating temperament added to her allure. From her graceful manners to her eloquent speech, she could easily win the favor and affection of those around her.

Yet beneath her outward appearance, Freya's inner world was very different.

Her pride often made her feel superior to others, convinced that she was above everyone around her.

This sense of superiority wasn't just rooted in her royal bloodline; it was an intrinsic part of her character.

She took pleasure in controlling others, and at times, her behavior could be quite sadistic.

To many, Freya was a mystery, one that was both loved and despised in equal measure. Her sharp contrast between appearance and personality made her an enigma—captivating yet terrifying.

She could easily attract the attention and affection of those around her, but her arrogance and occasional coldness made others feel uneasy and even fearful.

In Freya's world, she was the undisputed center, holding complete control over the fate of her kingdom and people, whether through kindness or harshness.

But now, this proud princess was crawling on the ground, gritting her teeth as she glared at him.

The vast disparity between their positions stirred a sense of superiority and conquest within Lorraine.

"What... what do you think?" Lorraine asked, a smirk on his lips.

He then grabbed a silver dagger from the ground and, with a deliberate motion, ripped the princess's regal robe into strips.

"Aaaaaa—"

Though Freya had a twisted side to her, this was the first time she had been treated in such a way, and a scream of fear escaped her.

She had always been the one to torment others, and no one had ever dared to do the same to her.

"Tsk, tsk, as expected from the Kingdom's first princess, Freya... You're in such good shape!"

Lorraine admired her body, his words dripping with mockery.

As he looked over her beautiful form, he teased her, "You were so proud, but now look at you."

"Wait... wait, don't hurt me! I... I am the first princess of the Kingdom of Giorar, and I will soon become a brave warrior of the [Art]. If you dare to hurt me, my father will never let you get away with this!"

Freya covered her chest with one hand, hiding her seductive big breasts, her voice shaking with fear.

She didn't understand why this goblin can speak human language, but at that moment, she no longer had the will to ask questions. She simply wanted him to stop.

Although the goblin before her did look different from others of his kind—almost cute, in fact—she had heard disturbing stories from the priests about the fate of women at the hands of goblins.

"You won't let me go? In that case, I won't let you go just yet." Lorraine said as he stepped closer to her, positioning himself behind her.

He intended to bring her to a breaking point, finish the system's task, and gain leverage in this world.

When Freya saw that the goblin was preparing to take her innocence, her beautiful face twisted in a mix of fear and disbelief.

'But wait, since this creature can speak the human language, it must be intelligent. There might still be a chance for negotiation.'

Clinging to the last shred of hope, Freya bit her lip, her body trembling as she said, "Stop... please. I know what you want. Can you let me go? I... I will do anything you want."

In that moment, the pride and self-assurance that had always defined her vanished, replaced by an overwhelming sense of panic and fear.

Her wide eyes were filled with pleading and desperation as she trembled, now fully aware of her vulnerability.

"I can give you gold, silver, jewelry, or women. Anything you want. I am the first princess of Giorar—none of this matters to me. I can offer you whatever you wish."

In a last-ditch attempt, Freya crawled closer, her hands trembling as she continued, "If you let me go, I can even ask my father to grant you a title, so that you may enjoy endless wealth and honor."

The proud princess, who once commanded everything, had been utterly crushed by fear of death.

"Hahah."

But just as she finished speaking, Lorraine let out a cold laugh, his eyes narrowing as he stared at her snow-white face. He licked his lips.

"Are you stupid, or am I stupid?" Lorraine scoffed, "You think I'd accept a title? You're really out of your mind."

"Don't forget, I'm a goblin—a creature you've always looked down on. Right now, there's only one thing I want to do, and that's to enjoy every moment with you."

Lorraine's cold words cut through Freya's last hope. Her heart plunged into an icy abyss as she realized that no amount of wealth, jewels, or promises of titles could save her from the horrors that awaited her.

Her face drained of color, turning as pale as paper, and an overwhelming cold spread through her body. Her lips quivered, but no words came out—only the faintest whisper.

"No… don't..." Her voice was barely audible, filled with fear and sorrow, "No... No! I'll agree to anything else!"

She backed away instinctively, her back pressing against the cold corner of the table, as if searching for any shred of safety in this nightmare.

Suddenly, a memory flickered through Freya's mind, and the scene before her felt eerily familiar.

That's right!

When she was in the dungeon before, the tortured prisoners had worn the same expression.

Freya could never have imagined that she would find herself in such a desperate situation, just like those helpless souls before.

Her hands gripped the torn remnants of her clothes, tears streaming silently down her face—each drop reflecting the despair and unwillingness in her heart.

Lorraine's figure loomed in her green eyes, representing the helplessness and the crushing weight of her fate.

At that moment, she realized that everything she had worked for—the power, the status, the pride—was utterly insignificant in the face of death.

"No! Please! Give me another choice!"

Desperation laced her voice as she clasped her hands together, her plea echoing in the dim light.