NTR: Barbarian Harem Conquest

”You want to bring an angel into a diplomatic meeting with my mother?” Misha asked, following him to the table.

”I want to bring a statement.” Kane tapped a finger against the northern borders on the map. ”Your mother respects strength. If we walk in there holding hands and asking for favors, she will lock us in her dungeons. If we walk in with an elven alliance and a fallen angel covering our blind spots, she will sit down and listen.”

”She is stubborn, Kane.”

”So am I.”

Sylvara finally stepped fully into the room, keeping a cautious distance from Grieseld.

”And if Milfheim refuses to listen to reason?”

”Then I let Thora test out her new halberd on their front gates,” Kane smirked.

”But Misha will talk sense into her. Right, Princess?”

Misha sighed, resting her head against his arm.

”I will try. But you have to promise not to antagonize her.”

”I never antagonize anyone on purpose.”

Every single woman in the room, including the Elven Queen, gave him a flat, disbelieving stare.

Kane chuckled, spreading his hands over the map.

”Alright, maybe a little. Let’s get to work.”

Firlia adjusted her glasses, staring at the supply manifests spread across the oak table.

”Sarah and Greta can manage the city for a few weeks without burning it down,” Firlia sighed, crossing her arms tightly.

”But leaving me behind to coordinate with Elven generals feels like a punishment.”

”Someone has to keep Sylvara from changing her mind,” Misha smiled gently.

”We need your brain here.”

”Just don’t let them feed you leaves and berries,” Thora laughed, leaning her giant halberd against the wall.

”My weapon is thirsty anyway. I was hoping we could break a few more Elven shields before leaving.”

Sira silently slipped a dozen throwing knives into her hidden bandoliers, checking the balance of each blade.

”Elven escorts are waiting below,” Sira whispered, materializing right beside Kane.

”Ten royal guards. They look very nervous.”

”Nervous guards stay alert,” Kane smirked, lacing up his boots.

’Firlia hates playing nice, but she is the only one who can out-bureaucrat these pointy-eared politicians,’ Kane thought, sitting on the edge of the bed.

’Now, let’s see what that notification was.’

Swiping a finger through the empty air, Kane opened his blue status screen. Glowing text materialized instantly before his eyes.

[System Update Complete. New Module Unlocked: Body Modification.]

’Wait, modification?’ Kane raised an eyebrow.

’I thought I maxed out my physical skill trees.’

Tapping the glowing icon, a detailed anatomical projection of his own body spun into view. Various muscle groups pulsed with faint golden outlines.

[Select a pathway to consume accumulated Warlord Points.]

[Option 1: Arms Muscle Enhancement (Tier I) - Increases base striking power by 40%. Cost: 500 WP.]

[Option 2: Cellular Regeneration (Tier II) - Halves recovery time for internal organ damage. Cost: 800 WP.]

[Option 3: Bone Density Hardening (Tier I) - Fractures require localized magic to break. Cost: 600 WP.]

[Option 4: Nervous System Overclock (Tier I) - Enhances reaction speed to sub-second thresholds. Cost: 900 WP.]

[Option 5: Optic Nerve Enhancement (Tier I) - Allows tracking of high-velocity projectiles. Cost: 400 WP.]

’Option one is tempting for close combat,’ Kane mused, tracing the floating text.

’But punching harder doesn’t matter if my bones snap upon impact. Overclocking sounds useful, but I already have decent reflexes. Hardening my skeleton sounds much more practical for fighting Devils.’

”Are you staring at that invisible box again?” Misha asked, waving a hand in front of his face.

”Just doing some internal remodeling.”

”Pick something that makes you immune to frostbite,” Misha suggested, pulling a fur-lined cloak over her shoulders.

”My mother keeps the throne room at freezing temperatures just to intimidate guests.”

”I’ll just hug you if I get cold.”

”My mother will stab you if you try that in front of her court.”

”Let her try,” Thora chimed in, tossing a dagger from one hand to the other.

”I want to see what Frost Guards are made of.”

”We are negotiating, Thora,” Misha sighed, rubbing her temples.

”Not conquering.”

”Same thing, just different paperwork.”

’Thora actually understands my political philosophy perfectly,’ Kane laughed internally.

’But Misha is right. Milfheim needs finesse before brute strength.’

Kane tapped the third option on his interface.

[Bone Density Hardening selected. Commencing integration.]

Pain flared instantly.

Hot needles seemingly drove themselves straight into his marrow.

Kane clenched his jaw, refusing to make a sound, though sweat immediately beaded on his forehead. Every single bone in his body vibrated with a strange, ringing hum.

”You okay?” Sira asked, noticing his sudden rigidity.

”Just fine,” Kane grunted, rolling his shoulders as the stinging sensation faded into a deep, solid ache.

”Ate something spicy.”

’Felt like swallowing molten glass, but my forearms already feel like solid iron,’ he analyzed, tapping his knuckles against the wooden bedframe. Wood splintered instantly under the casual tap. ’Yeah. That was a good purchase.’

”Are you fighting invisible enemies again?” Thora joked.

”Just preparing for the real ones,” Kane answered, dismissing the glowing screen.

”My blades are sharp enough,” Sira whispered.

”Devils have scales, Sira,” Misha pointed out. ”Normal blades won’t cut deep enough.”

”Then I will aim for their eyes.”

”We need to leave before the sun sets,” Firlia reminded them, holding open the balcony doors.

”Sylvara assigned her best pegasus riders to carry your team. Do not insult them.”

”I will be a perfect gentleman.”

”That is exactly what terrifies me.”

”Take care of the city, Firlia,” Kane said, finally standing up and grabbing his broadsword. ”If Aeloria tries to sabotage our supply lines, cut her budget.”

”I have already drafted sanctions just in case.”

Stepping out onto the royal landing pads, cold wind whipped across their faces.

Ten Elven warriors stood at strict attention beside five winged horses.

Feathers rustled as the beasts shifted restlessly, their riders eyeing the Warlord with a mix of fear and lingering resentment.

”Nice ponies,” Kane commented, walking right up to the lead captain.

”These are purebred Sylvander Pegasi,” the captain corrected sharply, his jaw tight.

”Treat them with respect, Barbarian.”