NTR: Barbarian Harem Conquest

Stepping out of the bustling tavern, the sun felt surprisingly warm.

Seraphine still refused to look directly at him, her jaw locked in a stubborn, flustered line.

Before Kane could push his teasing any further, a young paladin sprinted across the cobblestones, gasping for breath as she skidded to a halt in front of them.

"First Blade," the messenger panted, bowing hastily.

"Border Lord. The Empress demands your presence in the grand hall immediately. High Priestess Elyra has halted the betrothal preparations. She invoked the Rite of Submission."

Seraphine cursed under her breath, a very unholy sound for a paladin. 𝕗𝕣𝐞𝐞𝘄𝐞𝚋𝚗𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹.𝚌𝕠𝚖

"Elyra is a fanatic. She views any outsider male gaining political power as a direct blasphemy against the Goddess."

"I guess religious zealots are the same in every single empire," Kane sighed, cracking his neck.

"Always trying to ruin perfectly good military alliances because they read a book wrong."

"Take this seriously," Seraphine warned, marching quickly toward the palace.

"The Rite is an ancient law. It requires a trial by combat. If you lose, they will execute you right on the throne room floor, and the Empress will not be legally allowed to intervene."

’Well, that certainly raises the stakes for the afternoon,’ Kane thought, feeling a familiar spike of combat adrenaline replace his lingering amusement.

Pushing the grand doors open, the atmosphere inside the vaulted hall felt poisonous.

Hundreds of aristocratic women lined the walls, murmuring.

Sitting rigidly on her platinum throne, the Empress offered Kane a look that clearly said, Fix this mess immediately.

Standing in the center of the carpet was High Priestess Elyra.

Draped in flowing golden robes and with red hair, her face contorted in a sneer of pure self-righteous disgust.

Right beside the priestess stood her chosen champion.

The gladiator towered over everyone in the room, standing easily seven feet tall.

Magically enhanced muscles bulged beneath her leather harness.

Resting on her broad shoulder was a spiked iron maul that looked fully capable of crushing a warhorse in a single swing.

"You dare bring this fragile male into our sacred bloodline?" Priestess Elyra shouted, her voice echoing off the marble pillars.

Pointing a bony finger at Kane, she smiled cruelly.

"If you wish to claim royal blood, prove you are not a fragile male. Face the Goddess’s judgment!"

Kane stopped walking.

He looked at the towering gladiator, then at the priestess, and finally up at the Empress.

"Are you sure you want to do this in front of your Empress?" Kane laughed, his voice calm and steady.

He didn’t feel bored.

That spiked maul was a genuinely lethal threat, and one lucky swing would easily separate his head from his shoulders.

But showing even a fraction of hesitation in a room full of predators was a guaranteed death sentence.

He needed to make a statement that this matriarchy would never forget.

Unbuckling the leather strap across his chest, Kane pulled Mjoldr free.

Instead of igniting the crimson blade, he casually tossed the legendary axe sideways.

Seraphine caught the weapon with a startled gasp, the unexpected weight almost pulling her forward.

"Hold this for me, sweetheart," Kane winked at the First Blade.

"I don’t want to accidentally get her blood on the handle."

Seraphine’s silver eyes went wide.

"Kane, what are you doing? Pick up your weapon!"

"Against her?" Kane scoffed, stepping onto the carpet completely empty-handed.

"I conjecture that would be entirely unfair."

Murmurs of shock rippled through the noblewomen.

Facing an enhanced gladiator without a blade was suicide.

Priestess Elyra’s smile widened into a grin.

"Kill the arrogant bastard," the priestess commanded.

Roaring, the giant gladiator charged.

She swung the spiked maul in a horizontal arc aimed directly at Kane’s ribs.

Swoosh.

The weapon tore through the air with a terrifying, whistling shriek.

Kane didn’t block.

He simply dropped his center of gravity and pivoted sharply to the left.

The spiked iron head missed his nose by a mere inch.

Wind from the swing ruffled his red hair.

’She has reach and power, but she telegraphs her swings a full second early,’ Kane analyzed instantly, his combat instincts taking completely over.

’She fights like someone who expects her opponents to just stand still and block.’

Stepping smoothly inside her guard as the maul carried her momentum forward, Kane glanced over his shoulder at Seraphine.

"Do your fighters always move like overloaded wagons?" Kane called out conversationally, easily sidestepping a frantic backhand strike from the giant woman.

"Focus on the fight!" Seraphine yelled back, clutching his axe tightly against her chest, her knuckles white.

Growling in frustration, the champion lifted the maul high above her head for a crushing downward strike.

"GAHH!"

It was a fatal mistake.

Lifting the weapon exposed her entire midsection and locked her arms in a predictable trajectory.

Before the maul could even begin its descent, Kane stepped forward.

Driving his palm sharply upward, he struck the gladiator’s elbow joint with pinpoint precision.

Bone snapped with a sickening, audible crack that echoed through the silent hall.

The champion screamed, dropping the spiked maul as her right arm bent at an unnatural angle.

Kane didn’t stop.

Grabbing her uninjured shoulder, he used her own staggering weight against her.

A brutal kick to the back of her knee buckled her leg entirely.

"Agh!"

Sweeping his other foot across her ankle, he sent the seven-foot giant crashing onto the marble floor.

Boom!

The impact shook the nearby pillars.

[Combat Complete: Trial by Combat]

[Status: Unarmed Dominance Established]

Stepping casually over the groaning, defeated champion, Kane didn’t even bother breathing hard.

He hadn’t broken a sweat.

The entire grand hall fell completely silent as aristocratic women stared in open-mouthed shock.

A man had just dismantled a magically enhanced gladiator in less than thirty seconds, using nothing but his bare hands and casual conversation.

Priestess Elyra trembled, taking a terrified step backward as Kane slowly approached her.

"Your champion seems a bit fragile," Kane noted softly, stopping right in front of the golden-robed fanatic.

He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t have to.

The quiet menace radiating from his scarred frame filled the entire room.

Looking up at the throne, Kane met the Empress’s gaze.

’They respect power,’ Kane reminded himself.

’Time to rewrite their holy rules.’

Looking back down at the trembling priestess, Kane pointed a single finger at the marble floor directly by his boots.

"Kneel," Kane ordered.

Elyra hesitated, looking frantically toward the Empress for salvation.

"Wha-?"

The platinum-crowned ruler did nothing.

"I said, kneel," Kane repeated, letting a fraction of his terrifying, bloodlust aura bleed into the air.