The dragon's harem

The way Arad’s traps were was simple. It reflected his lack of experience and harrowing power. He used the threads of the fabric of space to set them, which resulted in powerful yet simple traps.

Nothing would happen if Nyar touched or stepped on the threads, but if Arad pulled on the threads while Nyar was touching them, he could move him alongside the space itself.

But it wasn’t easy, Nyar was heavy. Not in the weight sense, in which he was also heavy, but more in the sense that he couldn’t be moved against his will. If anyone else touched the threads, Arad would’ve moved them with ease, but for Nyar, he felt like a poor, sick horse trying to move a fully loaded carriage.

Moving Nyar with the traps in and of itself wasn’t harmful, but using that movement to put him in a prime spot to get hit by Vasilissa’s attacks was.

Vasilissa smiled from ear to ear. Her son was weak but not useless.

He was, in fact, a powerful and resourceful fighter that’s a cut above everyone else. Even if he can’t help directly, Arad was still a thorn in Nyar’s side, making sure he could never relax while fighting Vasilissa.

Arad’s net traps cut the tentacles, and Nyar was slowed and moved by them, slowly but surely shifting the fight in Vasilissa’s favor. This was slowly getting onto Nyar’s nerves.

Nyar glared toward Arad; his face wasn’t clear, but Arad could swear that veins were bulging on the abomination’s face. “You…annoying bug.”

CLANG! At that moment, Vasilissa got faster and stronger, her attacks raining like a relentless torrent as the clash tore everything around them.

“You’re doing well! Keep it up.” Vasilissa shouted, and Arad flew past with a smile on his face, “I’m not doing well enough!”

From his back, three extra pairs of arms burst out. Those were the arms of his other incarnations, brought forth by Kali’s divine magic. She was an asura demon, named after her father, Asura, the eight-armed god of destruction.

But for Arad, those arms weren’t going to be used to punch anything; no one here is weak enough for him to fight. Those arms were instead there to make it easier for him to weave his traps into the world; he was slowly trying to act like a spider.

Using all of his eight arms, Arad started making several times more traps, turning the very space and time around Nyar into a minefield and making each step a potential hazard. What made the traps even more effective was that Vasilissa could easily ignore them; they didn’t affect her at all.

She was able to move faster, relying on Arad saving her at the last fraction of a second by moving Nyar by less than a tenth of an inch. Just like her son, she was a monster at adapting and learning. She had her own plans on how to defeat Nyar here, but when Arad started his plan, she adjusted hers to match him and see how far he goes.

It was frustrating for Nyar, but he knew very well that she was using him as target practice to teach her son how to hunt. He doesn’t have enough power to end the fight quickly, and even if he did, Kali and Amaterasu would jump in to finish him off.

He also doesn’t have much time left, because the longer this fight goes, the more time the gods have to come and finish him off. This was just a vessel, but he would rather flee or at least get the hatred curse away before Cain shows up to take it back.

He has to finish this fight, and for that, he has to kill Arad first. He knew it would be impossible to kill AO with his current power, but crippling him enough or outright forcing him to reincarnate again a few thousand years into the future isn’t impossible. Read complete version only at novel⦿fire.net

That was when Nyar made a drastic decision that shifted the whole course of the battle. Defeating AO is impossible without a powerful will and determination. That’s why he decided that if he is to lose the hatred curse, it’ll be in exchange for erasing Arad.

“Now what, Void Drakaina?” Nyar’s moves shifted, “Fuck you and fuck your son!” He blasted right through her attack, losing an arm as he aimed straight at Arad.

Nyar flew right at Arad, triggering several traps at once and almost getting thrown off course. Vasilissa didn’t just watch; she flew right in and slashed him on the back with both hands, trying to kill him before he reached Arad.

Before Arad could know it, the scythe had pierced his chest from the right side to the left, pushing him backward as Nyar glared at him. “It’s the end, see you in a thousand years, old man.”

Arad could feel it. His souls were about to rip apart and crumble. This was the end; he won’t just die, but if all of his souls were completely erased, he would cease to exist. Arad knew it was serious because he could see his mother’s worried and terrified face.

Arad’s draconic and human souls cracked; their outer lair was about to crumble apart when a quiet hum rumbled beside them. The third and massive soul that rested silent inside Arad finally moved.

The third soul didn’t hum because it was damaged or waking up. Because a gremlin was sitting on it, humming a quiet tune.

“What are you doing there?” Doma growled, glaring at Yog, who was enjoying her seat on Arad’s third soul.

“You know?” Yog lifted her hand, and Doma’s hand moved. “I was quite fond of making clones. Most of them failed and died, those who worked fine, I stored them to be my spare bodies.”

Yog looked at Doma with a grin, “But some stayed alive but failed at magic, were useless, weak husks. I threw them to live their lives in the mortal, and since I made sure all of them were impotent, nothing came out of them.”

Yog stood, and her feet turned into a black stream of oily tar, covering Arad’s third soul. “One of them, though, managed to bear a child, and that child went on to live.” She looked at Doma, “Now, I have you here. What was she? Your grandma? Great grandma? I don’t know or care.”

Doma frowned with a growl, “Who are you?” She yelled at the red-haired halfling.

“Me? A little monster, the one you all should be afraid of.” Yog smiled, “But today, I’ll give the power to save him.”

Outside, Arad growled, swinging his black hole sword at Nyar’s neck, hitting him. But the blade wasn’t able to cut through; it was neither sharp enough nor had enough power to cut.

Nyar laughed, feeling Arad’s very being crumbling away. He, too, was hit in the back by Vasilissa, feeling his own power cracking and failing. He would die and lose this vessel, but Arad would be dead with him.

They were back to square one, or that is what he thought.

Arad’s black hole sword shifted, turning into a black tar sword filled with countless crying pink eyes. Those eyes all glared at Nyar with malice and rage. They didn’t speak, but it was only then that Nyar remembered.

Yog! That thing exists! When did he forget about her?

Arad screamed, putting all of his strength behind the sword as he pushed in, forcing the blade to bite into Nyar’s flesh.

Yog had erased herself from existence, turning into a forbidden knowledge that no one knew about, hiding and biding her time inside Arad’s stomach, waiting for the moment that Nyar was within striking range.

But at the same time, she can’t pull too much power without him finding out and running away. That’s why she had to find a way, do a trick similar to what the emperor of the abominations did. She had to find someone to become her vessel, someone who was compatible and had enough affinity for cursed and forbidden powers that no one should behold.

To her luck, that person was right inside Arad’s stomach beside his souls, Doma, the Queen of curses.

And what made Doma an even better vessel was that she was fateless. If not even the fates can track her, then even Nyar won’t have a chance of predicting her moves when she is empowered by forbidden knowledge.

Nyar’s head flew away, slashed by the Cursed Blade of the Forbidden Knowledge.