Supreme Harem God System

“Try and end your life again, Isaveth… and she will pay the price.”

The moment she heard those words, Isaveth’s body trembled.

The flames in her eyes died instantly. The woman didn’t say anything; she didn’t even cry. It was almost as if nothing happened,

But…

Sharnoth saw her mother’s entire being crack.

The Queen stayed on her knees, the holy chains burning her flesh as they pulled her into the floor, but she didn’t react.

Vexarion, who saw that, didn’t react either. This wasn’t the first time he had met the Queen of Nightfall. He knew how fearsome this woman was; he knew no amount of pain could ever make her scream.

But…

He had prepared something much better than mere pain.

A light smile appeared on his face. A moment later, guards entered.

They didn’t speak. They simply laughed as they renewed the seals. One of them even spat on Isaveth as he passed, calling her a coward. The other slapped the eleven-year-old Sharnoth.

The Herald of Justice didn’t react. He simply glanced at the defeated Queen and,

“Sleep tight, Queen of Nightfall.

Tomorrow, your people will watch you burn.”

With those words, he walked out of the hall with a victorious smirk on his face.

For the rest of the night, Sharnoth didn’t sleep. She couldn’t—her body was in agony, but an even bigger agony was seeing her mother smile at her reassuringly.

None of them said anything. The silence was deafening. The two waited and dreaded the next morning.

Nux sensed all the emotions Sharnoth felt during this time.

A few hours later, the dreaded morning came.

The soldiers of light came and moved Sharnoth’s and Isaveth’s cage. The cages were then loaded onto a procession of golden beasts—creatures of sunlight with glass-like skin and hollow eyes.

They marched through the ruined capital of Nocthys, dragging behind them the remnants of a fallen dynasty.

Every time they moved, the Cage of Radiance made sure to inflict enough pain that the two would feel all their bones shatter at the same time.

To subject an eleven-year-old to that—it was horrifying.

But what was worse was that Sharnoth couldn’t even scream.

The collar around her throat paralyzed her vocal cords.

In pain, she saw the Citadel of Dusk in ruins—its floating spires shattered, bleeding shadow into the sky like veins torn open. The black lake beneath her former crib now boiled under the pressure of purifying incantations. The Tower of Mourning had collapsed, its mourning bells melted into silence.

And the people…

They were made to watch.

The Herald of Justice marched ahead of the cage, draped in gleaming armor inscribed with words like “truth,” “order,” and “purity.”

“Witness the fate that awaits all who walk the path of darkness.

This is the end—the final judgment of the unholy.

Even royalty cannot escape the light’s reckoning.”

RUMBLE RUMBLE RUMBLE

His voice echoed throughout Nocthys. The very world trembled at those words, scared of the future.

Then it was time for the public cleansing.

In a grand plaza—once used by Vorran Nocthys to command his people—stood an obsidian platform, now covered in lightward sigils. The mother and daughter were dragged out, not with reverence as prisoners of war, but like wild animals.

Isaveth—The Queen of Nightfall—was stripped of her robes.

Her majestic black gown, woven from duskfire silk and dragonshadow threads, was ripped apart and replaced with thin linen rags enchanted to dim her aura. They forced her to kneel with her hands shackled above her head, her body exposed to scorching radiance meant to burn through even Eternal flesh.

The woman didn’t even show any resistance because she knew what would happen to her daughter once she did.

Yes, the once graceful and dignified queen was forced into submission.

A crowd of “holy spectators” watched.

Some wept in fake sympathy, but most watched in silence, indoctrinated to believe this was justice.

Then came Sharnoth’s turn.

They didn’t even bother removing the collar. She was barely eleven, too weak to do anything.

The soldiers of light laughed as they dragged her across holy chains, pretending to be merciful, calling her “child of the night,” while kicking her down when she tried to stand.

They mocked her silent screams as the light burned her feet. They tore away her crown—her birthright—and melted it before her eyes, calling it “a symbol of darkness undone by the truth.”

Sharnoth could only stare at everything in silence, imprinting everything deep in her mind, never wanting to forget even a single second of this moment.

She remembered her mother screaming, breaking her silence for the first time since yesterday night. She remembered how the Herald activated the Sigil of Grace—a so-called divine power that sent waves of agony through their bodies, forcing both mother and daughter to the ground, spasming in pain while the crowd chanted verses of Light.

“Let the vile writhe.”

“Let the impure burn.”

“Only through agony shall salvation be earned.”

There was no trial, no negotiation, only punishment masked as purification.

What these people called Light was cruelty painted in gold. Their ’Justice’ was a reasoning to satisfy their sadistic pleasures.

The eleven-year-old Sharnoth watched it all.

Despite the pain—

Despite her body breaking—

Despite watching her mother, once a queen feared by many, reduced to a chained creature crying blood—

She made sure not to look away.

She glared at these people through blurred eyes and blistered skin, remembering every single one of them without fail.

And finally, as if rewarding her strong will and conviction,

“Do you perhaps need help, child?”

The young Sharnoth heard a voice.

“!!!”

She widened her eyes in surprise, unable to understand where this voice came from.

“Calm down, Child.”

The voice spoke in a soft, gentle tone.

Strangely, it was more than enough to calm the enraged Sharnoth.

“Do you… wish to escape?”

The voice questioned, and in an instant, Sharnoth’s expression changed.

Escape…?

Was that possible…?

And as if reading her mind,

“Everything is possible as long as you follow what I say, My Child.

Now, if you wish to escape no matter what it takes,

Then nod your head.”

With a determined look on her face, Sharnoth nodded.

This was Sharnoth Nocthys’s first encounter with Zylarith Chaosveil.

An encounter that would turn Sharnoth into what she was today.