Dungeon Overlord: Monster Girl Harem!

Azriel's eyes shrank the moment the red palm crushed his wrists and lifted him off the floor. A beast of a demon appeared, his shoulders broad and covered in muscle, and he was almost three metres tall.

With eyes that shone like a beacon of light, golden and without blemish.

His dark red skin was thick, like armour, and he held his neck high, showing the hulking demon's pride and confidence.

"You must be the new dungeon master."

He spoke slowly, deep words that caused Leonhardt's chest to vibrate and tremble, like rice bouncing off a snare drum.

"Don't be so arrogant."

Leonhardt's eyes narrowed, the blue glow able to detect dozens of movements and patterns from Azriel saw NOTHING the moment the giant's hand swiped the air, thousands of blurred movements blinded him.

Boom!

The moment he struck Leonhardt, a force sent his body flying into the wall at extreme speed.

With a flick of his wrist.

Nothing more.

Yet the impact left a massive hole in the arena, and Leonhardt felt the pressure from the strike as if crushed by a giant boulder.

His dragon scales shattered, bones crushed, and flesh bruised... but they held back enough of the attack to survive.

Leonhardt couldn't see... his body throbbed in pain, but he stood up, legs quivering, shaking like jelly. Yet, he stood and faced the giant with his crimson orbs dilated to the limit, filled with a crackling aura, both pentagrams swirling at maximum capacity, trying to understand the concept of this monster.

Yet his eyes, the right heart of the Djinn in his chest beat faster, harder as if pumping something through a blocked artery, and he felt a dull ache throughout his body...

'What the hell is happening!?'

Blood poured from his eyes as the pentagram bored into his pupils like a brand.

"Oh? You survived..." Again, the slow voice reverberated through the arena. "Very well, this duel is your win. D-Rank."

With that, the demon turned to leave, dragging the unconscious Azriel across the ground, painting a trail of blood.

"Wait!"

The demon stopped, and a crushing pressure enveloped Leonhardt.

"Do not push it. Insect."

"Ugh.... Ngh...! Y-Your name... Tell me... Your name!"

He felt his bones creak as if ready to shatter into millions of pieces, but he stood fast. He needed to know the strength required to win. The giant chuckled.

"I have many names... but you can call me..." He paused for a moment before answering.

"...Belial...

I am the Duke of Pride"

Leonhardt's eyes flickered with thought at those words; he didn't understand the lore of demons in heavy detail, because Zafira became strange when he did. He knew one day they might have 'the talk', but the name Belial was something he learned from his memories and information the Archmage gave him.

Belial... the demon who wiped out the Djinn.

'No way, there's no chance that this is a coincidence right?'

His raging right heart, the mana flowing through his veins, forcing his eyes to analyse the target at 200% the usual level, causing them to bleed.

Now it made sense to him.

The implanted memories carried through the eyes of the Djinn spread through his mind, in the world, less than 0.1 seconds passed, but for Leonhardt, he suffered for hours...

'They might have nothing to do with me, but I was made from their blood, sweat and desperation!'

A single young Djinn survived the demons' onslaught of their calm magical kingdom, where those who loved and mastered magic at the highest level gathered. The Djinn were physically weak and lacked the bodies to compete with demons in direct battle, but when on the backline... they were akin to gods!

Envious of this, the demon emperor sent one of his capable dukes, who said he hated magic and those who relied on it.

Belial.

Whether his Djinn bloodline or his genuine frustration at being manhandled, pride shattered with a slap... Leonhardt's eyes narrowed, the pentagram and fairy marking now fused into a strange, distorted pentagram with Gaelic runes.

"I.... will.... definitely defeat you...!"

A hoarse, groan... his throat bruised and sore, yet Leonhardt didn't pull back. He was not some weak animal. Nor an inferior monster, his pride as a Chimaera wasn't that shallow!

"Hoh?" Belial's eyebrow twitched with interest.

He seemed genuinely impressed, nodding twice.

"Good. I accept your challenge... when you become a Rank S Dungeon Master. We fight!"

The pressure evaporated, and the demon vanished in a burst of smoke.

"Wait for me..."

Leonhardt collapsed on the ground, his mana exhausted, his body crushed and bruised, a pair of soft hands wrapped around him. Dark and beautiful Nyxara and Rock rushed to his aid because Belial claimed nobody would carelessly take the Duke of Pride's prey.

Though they looked at him with a pitiful gaze.

Only the announcer acted differently, his body trembling, chest pumping as he spread his arms theatrically.

"C'EST FANTASTIQUE!"

"The Devastating Duke of Pride stakes his claim! The Fearsome Azriel bows before a Dungeon Master! Ahhhhh~ How exciting this Pierre cannot contain his delight!"

His voice thundered, and the announcer stood right before Leonhardt, holding his hand in the air.

"A victory! An astounding victory for this young man, Leonhardt!"

Cheers rocked the stands, but Leonhardt heard nothing, his mind fading from consciousness...

But the voice of the strange monster with clown makeup called Pierre kept sounding in his distant thoughts, even penetrating his dreams.

***

***

"Ragh!" Leonhardt gasped, his body shooting into a sitting position as his heart raced. "Where am I!?"

Nyxara's eyes popped open, wider than usual, her lips curled into a wide grin. It was rare to see Leonhardt so vulnerable, and his cute reaction made her feel a bit giddy.

"You're in the room where you took my virginity."

She lay beside him completely nude, her soft pink areola and buds drooping between her arms as she leaned on her palm. "You look so pretty today, princess." She playfully mocked him while stretching her leg over his crotch, brushing her knee against him.

'How can a man be so endearing?'

Dark elves were a race taught from their first words that men were nothing but seeds to create new warriors in Nyxara's tribe.

Yet from the moment he defeated her, she wanted to become something important to him.

'It made no sense then... but watching those girls, listening to their stupid conversations... Ah, so this is it. Not the dark elves' happiness, but a woman's happiness, is this why those pale skins get so excited over marriage?'

"Ngh... Nyxara?"

'Damn it!' His hoarse, grainy voice caused her spine to tingle; she could feel the warmth growing between her legs, she was wet just hearing his rough voice... but instead of jumping him like her Dark Elf instincts told her, she grabbed the chilled water juice, and brought it to his lips. "My dear, please drink."

Gulp, gulp, Leonhardt's throat bobbed, swallowing the deliciously cold beverage down his parched throat, yet Nyxara's leg continued to rub against his crotch.

Somehow, from the moment he filled her and they became one, her desire to compete with him returned... yet not the same. This desire to fight, to win, was ONLY for him.

'This man has corrupted me... this monsters.'

"Are you feeling alright, My Dear?" Yet despite her combative thoughts, her voice, tone and actions were sweet, sultry and affectionate as she stroked Leonhardt's chest.

"Ngh... Ahhh!" He exhaled a breath of relief, finally able to lubricate his throat. "I-I'm alive, that's a blessing."

"You've been out for five hours." Nyxara leaned close, the fruity scent from her soft pink lips enticed Leonhardt, but he held back; the movement from breathing felt like pushing blades through his muscles, let alone trying to move his neck.

"Five hours... where's Azriel!?"

"That ugly Duke carried him off."

Leonhardt's brows furrowed; the name Belial brought back those horrid memories, not his, but another's.

The five hours outside to him felt like years, but something inside him still stirred. The genes he took from the Djinn and the strong blood of the Incubus resonated, not in synergy but in hatred, spite, and competition.

He took a deep breath, trying to understand...

[They are bloodlines of sworn enemies... yet inside you, they must co-exist.]

Ifrit's melodic voice snapped Leonhardt out of it when he realised that while confused, he was using the World Eater's core... and trying to merge the bloodlines.

The Incubus sought the endless magic and mastery of the Djinn

The Djinn sought the strong, limitless body of the Incubus.

'No... do not devour them!'

(Oh my? How impressive, darling.)

Dravanna's tone became one of interest when she noticed that Leonhardt's control over the World Eater's core had improved.

Ba-Dump... ignoring the sultry movement of Nyxara, Leonhardt's focus was his body, his heart, and the two powers like an orca and a great white clashing inside him.

'If you want magic and power... why fight!?'

A red gleam shone from Leonhardt's eye as his body burst out with a black and red aura.

'We are a chimera!'

His feelings overwhelmed him as his body shot up and pinned Nyxara to the bed, the screaming pain and dull ache irrelevant as he yelled out.

"Do not discard, do not abandon! Assimilate, Devour and Take it all!"