The next morning came quietly.
The girls were already up and ready. Today, Virellen wasn't wearing her usual maid uniform. Instead, she had on the training outfit Alaric bought her today when he went out—her maid clothes had taken too much of a beating.
If she kept ruining them like this, she'd run out of things to wear soon enough.
They were all set. Today's training would be harder than before.
And this time, Alaric would be attacking.
The girls, completely unaware of their grim fate, chatted happily among themselves as they prepared. They had no idea what was coming.
Alaric took them out into the Forest—a barren stretch of land that had once been a part of the Core Forest. Now, it was nothing but devastation.
Hundreds of kilometers of broken earth, massive craters gouged into the landscape, the aftermath of a violent clash between two overwhelming powers. A wasteland carved out by divine battle.
The training began.
Alaric connected them to his Divine Energy, feeding it into their bodies through invisible threads—white and pure. But they noticed something was off. Different.
He wasn't standing still anymore.
CRACK!
Aurevia was the first to take a hit. Her sword arm shook from the force, and she stumbled back.
THWACK!
Serineth followed, eyes wide as a blow slammed into her side, nearly sending her flying.
FWAM!
Cellione raised her flame just in time, only for it to be dispersed like smoke.
CRSHH!
Virellen's gauntlets clashed with a strike that numbed her arms all the way to the shoulders.
Alaric wasn't defending anymore. He was beating them up.
And he wasn't holding back—only enough to avoid killing them.
Every time they bled, he healed them instantly. There was no rest, no mercy, just relentless pressure and pain.
They were fighting for their lives.
BOOM!
THUMP!
CLANG!
TSHHH!
The Divine Energy wrapped around them didn't feel warm anymore. It pressed against their souls, suffocating.
He had unleashed a sliver of oppressive power—an overwhelming weight pressing down on their very being.
Still, they endured.
They moved through it. They screamed, staggered, gasped—but they kept fighting.
The Blessing of the Authority of Growth had taken root. Beneath that crushing force, they were evolving.
Aurevia's sword moved sharper, her frost aura more precise, her control tighter.
Serineth's shadow magic danced wildly, then narrowed into blades of darkness that struck true.
Cellione's fire, once wild, was now shaped—controlled, focused, destructive.
Virellen's earth aura swelled through her gauntlets, each punch sending tremors through the ground.
SLAM!
CRACK!
VMM!
TSK!
They fought desperately, bloodied and bruised. Again and again, Alaric struck them down and brought them back to their feet.
He said nothing.
He watched them—expression unreadable—as they struggled beneath his hand.
From the distance, the golden serpent dragon watched as well. Silent. Unmoving.
The barrel of the wasteland cracked open again and again with every clash, every strike, every scream. The Forest—what little remained of it—offered no answer.
Only dust, and pain, and growth.
And the fight continued.
*****
✢═─༻༺═✢═─༻༺═✢
✶ I Reincarnated as an Extra ✶
✧ in a Reverse Harem World ✧
⊱ Eternal_Void_ ⊰
✢═─༻༺═✢═─༻༺═✢
*****
The training finally ended.
The sun was already sinking low, casting golden rays across the ruined land. Dust clung to everything—boots, clothes, hair. The ground around them looked like a warzone, riddled with craters and cracked stone.
The girls collapsed in a heap near the giant coiled body of the golden serpent dragon. Its massive form was silent, ever watchful.
It didn't move, didn't blink, didn't even breathe—at least not in any way a human could tell. But it was there. Regal, radiant, and just as terrifying as the first time they'd seen it.
Virellen flopped onto her back with a groan.
"I swear on all the clean laundry in the mansion… Master is a monster."
Serineth didn't argue. She was lying face-down in the dirt, arms sprawled out.
"I saw my own soul leave my body halfway through."
"I stopped feeling pain somewhere around punch number thirty,"
Cellione muttered, staring up at the sky like she was trying to leave her physical form behind.
"After that, I think I was just hallucinating Divine Judgment."
Aurevia sat cross-legged beside them, still trying to maintain some semblance of dignity, though her hair was a mess and her sword-arm trembled every time she moved.
"He didn't even say anything. Just… punched me in the stomach and nodded like it was perfectly normal."
Virellen pointed weakly at Alaric, who stood not far away, arms crossed, gaze distant.
"He has serial killer eyes, I swear. You all saw that, right? That wasn't a training session. That was a ritual sacrifice."
Lysaurel, the Golden Serpent Dragon, gave a slow, amused blink.
"…She agrees with me,"
Virellen added, squinting up at the ancient creature.
"Don't you? You watched the whole thing. Say something."
The Dragon's voice didn't echo aloud. It simply appeared in their minds—deep, sonorous, and disturbingly calm.
"He held back. Consider yourselves fortunate."
Everyone groaned at once.
"Held back?!"
Cellione exclaimed, flailing one arm.
"I couldn't breathe! He literally made the air weigh more!"
"I was choking on my own aura,"
Serineth added in a half-mumble.
"I didn't even know that was possible."
Aurevia sighed, brushing dirt off her knee.
"He said it was the 'Blessing of the Authority of Growth.' I think it's just his excuse to beat us senseless."
Lysaurel didn't respond this time. Just continued to observe, eyes glowing faintly gold.
Virellen propped herself up on one elbow and looked around at the others.
"So, uh… anyone else reconsidering their life choices? Because I definitely am. This job doesn't come with hazard pay."
"You're not even officially employed,"
Cellione pointed out.
"Exactly! This is exploitation!"
Alaric finally turned toward them, his voice flat.
"You'll thank me later."
The groans were immediate.
"We'll sue you later,"
Serineth muttered.
Virellen raised a hand, barely able to lift it.
"Master, respectfully… go train yourself."
Alaric raised a brow but said nothing.
Aurevia chuckled quietly, shaking her head.
"Still… we're getting stronger. I can feel it."
They all fell into silence for a moment, catching their breath, gazing out across the wreckage of the old forest.
They were sore. Bruised. Grimy.
But stronger.
And somehow, that was enough.
***
The wind howled above the cratered wilderness, brushing across their tired forms like an old friend. The vast stretch of the broken Forest—once a thriving part of the Core Jungle within Verdant Vale—now lay hollow and silenced beneath the dusk-lit sky.
Only the deep, overlapping scars etched by divine and draconic fury told the tale of the cataclysm birthed by Alaric and the Golden Serpent Dragon, Lysaurel.
Alaric said nothing to their complaints. Because he did beat them up pretty bad. He wrapped Divine Energy around them and stared flying.
whoosh
The world fell away beneath them as Alaric lifted them skyward.
No wings. No roar of a beast. Just calm, controlled flight—silent and smooth like drifting atop a cloud albeit one maintained by the will of a terrifyingly powerful man.
Virellen groaned dramatically, dropping to her knees on the platform.
"I swear to every pantheon in Elarion, if I feel even one more gust of hot wind, I'm jumping off this thing."
"Do it,"
Cellione muttered beside her, deadpan.
"It'll save Master the trouble of burying what's left of you after tomorrow's training."
"But you can't jump off something that is wrapped around you like a barrier. Did you hit you head when you were little. "
Alaric chimed in as he said that with a concerned look towards Virellen regardingher mental health
Virellen gave him a fierce look and retorted.
"And whose fault is that? Definitely not a certain someone acting all normal while beating some powerless little girls."
Alaric said nothing after that. He chose tactical retreat seeing that she is right.
Serineth gave a tired laugh, her voice smoky.
"Come now, dying is the easy way out. I prefer slowly watching my soul wither while being healed just enough to keep suffering."
"You girls are so dramatic,"
Aurevia said, brushing a strand of silver-blonde hair behind her ear.
"He's not that cruel."
Everyone turned to stare at her. Even Alaric flicked a brow.
Aurevia blinked.
"…Okay, maybe a little cruel."
"A little?"
Virellen raised a finger.
"He threw me across a crater like a ragdoll. A literal ragdoll, Master."
"You punched me in the ribs and smiled afterward,"
Cellione accused, pointing.
"Don't think I missed that."
Alaric glanced back at them mid-flight, unfazed.
"You all lived. And that's the point."
"Yeah, and barely,"
Serineth muttered under her breath.
"I felt my ancestors waving at me."
"Mine were booing,"
Virellen added.
"One even held up a sign that said 'good riddance.'"
They all burst into tired laughter, and the wind carried their voices high into the evening sky.
Below, the outline of Veldroth slowly came into view—its spires like black veins against the orange-gold horizon.
The mansion waited, tall and proud, lit with warm magicstones and surrounded by tranquil woods untouched by the destruction they'd left behind.
They landed gently atop the mansion's upper terrace. The second their boots touched stone, the girls slumped—Aurevia leaned on her sword, Cellione flopped onto a bench, and Serineth sat like she'd aged fifty years in one day.
"I'll be in my grave by thirty at this rate,"
Serineth declared.
"You think we'll live that long?"
Virellen muttered.
Alaric walked inside in silence, and they followed him, still complaining in a tired chorus. After that Alaric told the told them to take a bath.
He used a little Divine Energy to Heal them because they looked like they might fall any moment.
The went up stairs to take bath. When they came down again The scent hit them first. Something different. Something familiar.
"Oh gods,"
Cellione whispered.
"Is that… is that normal food?"
"I smell garlic,"
Serineth blinked.
They entered the kitchen—and there he was. Alaric, sleeves rolled up, a simple apron tied across his chest, standing in front of a counter lined with sizzling pans.
There was steam rising from pasta, bubbling stew, grilled meats, sautéed vegetables—he'd somehow managed to recreate a small modern feast in the heart of an arcane mansion.
"You're cooking again?"
Aurevia asked, stunned.
"I thought you only did that when you felt guilty,"
Virellen added, suspicious.
"I'm feeling generous,"
Alaric replied, stirring something golden in a pot.
"You're feeling something, alright,"
Cellione muttered.
"Probably joy from knocking out three of us in one punch."
"Goddess,"
Serineth said, already reaching for a bowl,
"I take back half the curses I said today."
Dinner was lively. Virellen had a full mouth when she blurted out,
"Honestly… if I can eat like this every day, then… yeah. Getting beat to hell might actually be worth it."
The room went quiet for half a second, then erupted into laughter.
"You say that now,"
Cellione grinned,
"but wait until he starts tomorrow by flinging you into the sky."
"I'll take it,"
Virellen shrugged, then stuffed more grilled meat into her mouth.
Alaric merely stirred another pot, glancing over with the faintest curve of amusement on his lips.
And for that night, bruises didn't matter. Sore muscles were forgotten. There were no craters, no divine duels, no suffocating auras.
Just warm food, warm lights, and the strange, soft peace of having survived.
-To Be Continued