It began with a thought.
A quiet, relentless thought that refused to leave Alaric alone.
Each night, after training ended and the others rested, he sat in silence. The divine heart in his chest pulsed gently, like a forgotten star. The forest slumbered around him, heavy with dew and residual magic.
The girls were improving. There was no doubt about that.
But it wasn't fast enough.
Not for what lay ahead. Not for the forces gathering beyond the mortal realm's thin veil.
He had used the Authority of Growth before—first, as a method of restoration. A healing force. A way to rebuild broken foundations.
He'd used it on the Serpent Dragon, and had seen the creature surge past its own limits like a dam finally unsealed.
But what if it wasn't just a remedy?
What if it was a catalyst?
A sacred current meant not to repair, but to elevate?
That night, the idea struck him with clarity. By morning, it had become resolve.
***
The next day, under the pale gold of early sunlight, Alaric gathered them all.
Aurevia, Serineth, Cellione, and Virellen stood beside him as the wind blew across a barren wasteland—a desolate stretch of land, hundreds of kilometers wide, the aftermath of one of Alaric's earlier awakenings.
Jagged scars split the earth. Spires of charred stone jutted like broken ribs. Patches of lingering frost shimmered in scattered hollows, remnants of battles fought with no witnesses left alive.
No birds sang. No leaves rustled. The world here was still holding its breath.
"This place is… cheerful,"
Virellen muttered, toeing a piece of cracked stone.
"You still didn't fix this, Master?"
Cellione asked, gaze drifting across the destruction.
"Too bothersome. But the time will come. So don't worry."
Alaric said plainly.
The Golden Serpent Dragon circled above them once, its gleaming form casting a wide shadow before it landed on a distant rise and coiled itself silently. Watching. Waiting.
***
"I want you to fight me,"
Alaric said.
Aurevia arched an eyebrow.
"Fight you... or try to?"
He looked at her.
"Try. And coordinate well. This is not about hurting me. It's about pushing past your current selves."
Virellen rolled her shoulders.
"So no holding back?"
"No. Especially not with each other. I want to see how well you adapt, move, adjust. If you're sloppy, you'll get in each other's way—and someone will take a hit meant for me."
Serineth sighed.
"Noted. Don't incinerate Cellione."
"I'd appreciate that,"
Cellione said dryly, already conjuring fire between her palms.
"Positions,"
Aurevia said, her voice sharpening as she stepped into the lead.
"Let's make him blink."
***
FWOOSH—CRACK—THWAM!
The air tore apart as they charged in.
Aurevia led the assault, blade dancing with frost. Her strikes came fast and precise, each one tracing silver arcs through the air.
Serineth flanked from the shadows, her Mana warping the light itself, while Cellione controlled the field with fire—precision bursts and exploding sigils that sent dust spiraling.
Virellen lunged in with brutal momentum, fists glowing with her core's raw power. Her gauntlets struck stone, air, even light itself—anything that might cage her fury.
And Alaric?
He stood amidst it all like a mountain among waves.
He didn't strike.
He stepped.
He turned. Tilted. Shifted.
And their coordinated chaos passed him like wind through trees.
Still, they improved.
Their timing grew sharper. Their spells aligned better. Their rhythms found common breath.
For hours, they pushed themselves against the impossible.
***
And when they collapsed—panting, bruised, and smiling at each other in the frost-laced dust—Alaric finally spoke again.
"You've improved,"
He said.
They looked up at him, exhausted and confused.
"But we didn't touch you,"
Serineth mumbled.
"That's not what I meant."
They were growing—he saw it clearly. But still… not fast enough.
Which is why he'd brought them here. Not just to test them. But to change them.
He lifted one hand, and from the center of his chest, The Divine Heart Core began to pulse. Light spilled out—white, pure, and vibrant—threading through the air like silk spun from heaven itself.
The girls straightened. Instinctively, they knew something sacred was happening.
Alaric extended a glowing thread to each of them. It connected—not to their skin, but their cores, their essence. A silent tether from his divine core to theirs.
"What is this?"
Aurevia whispered, awed.
"The Authority of Growth,"
Alaric said softly.
"I used to think of it as healing. But it's more than that. It's... potential made manifest."
As the white light passed through them, something shifted.
Not outwardly—but inward.
Their understanding deepened. What once took hours of meditation now came in a breath. Aura responded to their will like a faithful companion. Mana flowed smoothly, obediently, as if it had always known them.
Virellen blinked, staring at her gauntlets.
"I... I get it now. How to fold the energy inside my fists. Why it explodes too soon."
Cellione gasped.
"The flame's not just burning... it's listening."
Serineth looked at her shadow. It curled protectively around her feet.
"It wants to move before I move."
And Aurevia?
She stepped forward, blade in hand.
"Master... I can feel every breath the sword takes."
Alaric said nothing. He simply kept the flow steady, watching their growth like a gardener tending sacred roots.
And when he finally allowed the energy to fade, and the threads of light dissolved—
They stood there.
Changed.
Not finished. Not perfected.
But no longer the same.
Alaric smiled faintly.
"We continue tomorrow."
*****
✢═─༻༺═✢═─༻༺═✢
✶ I Reincarnated as an Extra ✶
✧ in a Reverse Harem World ✧
⊱ Eternal_Void_ ⊰
✢═─༻༺═✢═─༻༺═✢
*****
The girls were sprawled across the rocks and dry ground, catching their breath. Magic still crackled faintly in the air, the kind that clings after a battle—even a one-sided one.
Alaric sat on a black chair he'd casually summoned from his treasury, watching the girls recover with his usual unreadable expression.
Not too far from them, the massive Golden Serpent Dragon coiled lazily on a patch of scorched earth, head resting atop her own spiraled body. She looked perfectly comfortable, eyes half-lidded, breathing slow.
That's when Virellen, still dusting off her skirt, tilted her head and asked,
"Master, have you named the dragon yet?"
Alaric didn't move.
"No."
Aurevia, who was sipping from her flask, raised a brow.
"Really? She's been with us a while now."
"Feels wrong calling her 'hey you' every time," Cellione added, stretching her back with a groan.
Virellen placed her hands on her hips.
"Then! I shall offer noble suggestions, befitting of our golden-scaled companion."
"Oh no,"
Aurevia muttered.
Alaric didn't turn.
"You can suggest names. Ask her directly. If she likes one, then that's that."
Serenith sat up slowly, brushing hair from her face, and glanced toward the dragon.
"Well, why don't you name her, Master?"
Alaric shook his head.
"You're the ones naming her. Not me."
The girls glanced at each other.
Virellen was already halfway into her pitch.
"Alright! How about... Flamecoil the Terrifying?"
The Dragon blinked, lifted her head slightly, and stared at her.
"…No,"
She said simply. Her voice was clear, womanly, with a hint of exasperated calm—like a patient aunt watching toddlers name her cat.
"Okay, okay. Too much?"
Virellen shrugged.
"What about Seraphissia?"
"Sounds like someone trying too hard."
"That's because I am trying too hard,"
Virellen muttered, crossing her arms.
Serenith tilted her head, thoughtful. Then softly said,
"How about... Lysaurel?"
Everyone turned to look at her.
"Lysaurel?"
Cellione repeated.
"I don't know why,"
Serenith said, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear.
"It just came to mind. Like something I heard before but couldn't quite remember. Maybe from one of Master's memories?"
The dragon lifted her head fully this time. Golden eyes gleamed.
"…Lysaurel,"
She said aloud, slowly. She turned the name over in her mouth, like tasting honey.
She gave a low, satisfied hum.
"I like it."
"Oh?"
Aurevia smiled.
"It feels... right,"
The dragon said, curling her tail slightly.
"Like it already belonged to me, and you just remembered it for me."
Virellen sighed dramatically.
"Hmph. You just like hers because it sounds elegant."
"It is elegant,"
The dragon replied without missing a beat.
Alaric, still not turning, let out a quiet breath.
"Then it's decided."
"Welcome to the team, Lysaurel,"
Cellione said with a grin.
The Dragon gave a small, slow nod.
"Glad to be here."
And like that, it was done. No divine revelations. No dramatic ceremony. Just girls lounging in the dirt, tossing names into the air—until one fit.
Just like family.
***
The sun was beginning its slow descent, streaking the sky in soft gold and apricot hues. A tired warmth blanketed the wasteland, the kind that made silence feel earned.
Alaric stood with his hands behind his back, gazing across the shattered land. Behind him, the girls gathered their things with lazy motions, fatigue still clinging to their limbs like a second skin. Scuffed boots, rumpled clothes, minor burns and scrapes—they wore the signs of battle like children who'd been playing too hard in the yard.
"I think I can still feel dirt inside my bones,"
Cellione muttered, brushing ash from her sleeves.
"I think my bones are dirt now,"
Virellen replied, dramatically flopping onto a small rock.
"You may refer to me as Maid of the Mud."
"I'll allow it,"
Serineth said, yawning into her shoulder.
"On one condition—you do all the cleaning tonight."
Virellen sat up.
"Cowards, the lot of you."
Aurevia slung her sword onto her back with a practiced motion.
"Save your drama."
At that, Alaric turned slightly.
" Alright,We're going back ."
At that they, came running towards Alaric.
Just off to the side, the great golden serpent dragon—Lysaurel now—stretched out her gleaming coils and lazily lifted her head.
Her scales caught the light, rippling like sunlit waves. Despite the languid motion, power radiated from her like a slumbering sun.
"You'll stay?"
Cellione asked, her tone gentle.
"Yes. That's my task."
Lysaurel said.
The girls nodded.
Alaric then wrapped Divine Energy around them and stared flying towards Veldroth.
Lysaurel watched them disappear into the horizon. The girls were waving her good by. After that Lysaurel closed her eyes and fell asleep.
-To Be Continued