Harem Domain: I Fucked The Goddess of Lust, So What
Chapter 31: The Siege of Bene Gesserit 1;The Night of War Begins

Chapter 31: Chapter 31: The Siege of Bene Gesserit 1;The Night of War Begins

The night was still-unnervingly so. A cold breeze, seeming to whisper augury, rustled through the trees, and in the darkness beyond the stronghold of the Sisterhood, something stirred-something incredibly old, something immensely evil.

Far from the fortress, the Forge Master Malakar led his monstrous army forward. Blackened armor with etched, glowing infernal runes across his towering frame seemed to burst with unholy power. In one hand he clutched a long war hammer, inscribed with ancient symbols; in the other, a short hammer, small but no less deadly. Hundreds of night creatures lumbered after him, their forms twisted beyond the mould of their human templates.

These were no mindless undead. They had been Hellforged: their bodies reforged in dark magic and instilled with the souls of demons. Some had grotesquely enlarged arms, others had horns protruding from their skulls, and a few sported glowing red eyes that never blinked. Each one was a monster of war-an abomination of fire and shadow.

Beside Malakar strode Princess Selene, the mighty seer and daughter of the king, effortlessly in her gait, while the longest dark cloak billowed behind her back. Her black mane of hair glittered in the moonlight, and her gold eyes filled with timeless wisdom were fastened upon the stronghold ahead.

"They will sense us soon," she whispered, her tone a silk one laced with the sharpness of a promise.

Smiling, the rumble of distant thunder in his voice, Malakar said, "Let them. We are past subtlety."

In one quick motion he brought his short hammer up and crashed it down upon the ground. A dark shockwave rippled outward, warping the air itself.

As one the Hellforged creatures roared and their bodies surged with energy. Then, without warning—

They charged.

High Priestess Lysander stood at the edge of the grand stone balcony overlooking the training area of the stronghold. Torches danced, their flames fluttering against the chilling night air and lighting the ranks of warriors in rows below them.

Something was wrong.

A sickly feeling crawled into her bones - an omen of death.

Behind her, another warrior emerged. It was Eleanor, one of the most accomplished battle mages in the Bene Gesserit. Her long silver hair was pulled back, and her violet eyes were keen with concern.

"You feel it too, don’t you?" Eleanor whispered.

Lysander nodded grimly. "The air is heavy... as if something unnatural is approaching.

There came, from beyond the walls, a sudden BOOM-a deep, guttural roar that ran down the spines of every warrior.

The earth started to shudder.

A moment later, a scout came bounding up the stone steps, panting, his face dripping with sweat. In a shrill voice, he shouted:

"They are here!"

Azrael sprang from his bed, his heart racing. Still, his body ached from the last battle, but another thing clawed at his brain.

His system had gone utterly silent.

Ever since the last battle with Adam, it had been acting weirdly, as if something inside had disrupted it. Now, it was totally dead.

He rubbed his temples. "Damn it... not now."

Suddenly, a heavy knock pounded on his door.

"Azrael!" It was Eliza’s voice, sharp with urgency. "Get up! We’re under attack!"

Azrael didn’t hesitate. He grabbed his sword from the wall and rushed to the door. The moment he stepped outside, he felt it—a wave of pure, malevolent energy.

He looked toward the fortress walls and saw it:

An army of nightmares had arrived.

The first wave of Hellforged creatures burst inside when the outer gates of the stronghold shattered in splinters. Blackened steel clashed against the magical defenses thrown up by the Bene Gesserit warriors.

Lysander raised her staff and called out in a voice booming with authority:

"Hold the line!"

A huge surge of gold energy erupted from her, forming a protective barrier that slow-danced the advance of the monsters.

The battle exploded into full force.

Eliza and Eleanor were in command of a battalion of mages that rained down torrents of fire and lightning, but for every creature that fell, two more took its place.

Malakar strode into the battlefield like a god of war; his hammers aglow with blue, infernal energy, he swung them with every blow, sending warriors flying.

Azrael arrived in time to catch one of these creatures punching out a soldier’s skull.

The blood froze within his veins.

"We’re getting defeated." he muttered.

There Eleanor joined him, gasping for breath. "Azrael! We have to get. "

Her explanation was cut short as Malakar finally looked at them; his red gaze locked onto the magician.

"Ah," growled Malakar. "You must be the magician."

Azrael closed his teeth into a clench. "And you must be the bastard that created this lot.

Malakar chuckled low, a dark rumble. "Not quite. But you will meet the true mastermind soon enough."

He flicked his wrist, the hammers clashing together in a shockwave hurtling toward Azrael and Eleanor. They barely dodged on time, the force sending them sliding across the battlefield.

Azrael tried calling upon his power-tried calling upon his domain expansion-but there was nothing.

His system was dead silent.

A cold realization then pierced his heart like a dagger.

He was helpless.