The first rays of dawn filtered through the mountain mist, casting pale golden light across the House of a Hundred Sisters. The cold bit harder up here. Ryon tightened the rough wrap around his hands as he stood in the training arena where yesterday's chaos had earned him both survival—and attention.
Now, he had to keep it.
Seyna arrived without fanfare. No armor this time. She wore tight, sleeveless wraps around her upper body, exposing scars that traced down her shoulder like lightning bolts. Her spear was slung casually over one shoulder, and her eyes were already sizing him up like a butcher studies raw meat.
"Good," she said. "You came."
"I said I would," Ryon replied.
Seyna smirked. "Words are cheap. Here in the South, men don't get second chances."
He didn't argue. Not anymore. Not after the System's latest warning.
> [Bond Deadline: 42 hours remaining]
Progress with Seyna: 3%
Training with the Ironflame
The morning was brutal.
Seyna didn't hold back. Her idea of training was warfare with a time limit. She tested Ryon's endurance, flexibility, reflexes, and even his pain tolerance.
"Again," she snapped as he gasped after being thrown to the ground. "You fight like you want to be forgiven. That's weak. Fight like you want to survive."
He gritted his teeth and rose.
By mid-morning, his shirt was drenched in sweat, knuckles raw, and legs shaking from fatigue. He didn't know if the nausea in his gut was from overexertion—or the intense way Seyna looked at him every time he got back up.
There was hunger there—not lust, but something far more dangerous: curiosity.
"You're too stubborn for a corpse," she finally muttered, tossing him a water flask. "The last man I killed begged for mercy."
He drank in silence, then wiped his mouth. "Do I look like someone who begs?"
Her smirk faltered for half a second. Just a flicker.
Then she threw a wooden staff at him.
Word of their sparring had spread. By the time the wooden weapons clashed, a full circle of armored sisters had gathered to watch. Some leaned forward, some whispered excitedly, some simply waited for blood.
Seyna launched the first attack—a whirlwind of precise staff strikes. Ryon dodged the first, blocked the second, barely ducked the third. The next hit landed square in his ribs.
His breath caught, and he nearly fell. Seyna didn't stop.
"You're supposed to impress me, curseborn," she said, voice cold and mocking. "Is this all you have?"
Then Ryon activated the skill.
> [Charm Pulse I – Enhanced Feedback Mode]
It wasn't a wave this time. It was a spark—small, contained, and precise.
It hit her just as she was about to swing again.
For a heartbeat, her arm faltered. Her eyes locked onto his—wide, almost too wide.
Ryon closed the distance and flipped his staff behind her knees. She fell backward—and he pinned her with the staff at her throat.
Gasps echoed through the crowd.
Seyna stared up at him, chest rising, lips slightly parted—not from fear, but from shock.
She hadn't expected to lose.
> System Update: Seyna Bond Progress: 11%
New Trait Gained: Stubborn Valor
Seyna's Affection: Stirring…
Ryon pulled back slowly, offered her a hand.
She stared at it for a long second… then took it.
"You're improving," she said quietly, brushing herself off. "Enough to be interesting. Maybe even enough to be mine."
More gasps from the crowd.
Ryon blinked. "Wait—what?"
She leaned in and whispered with a smile.
"Better win me quick, curseborn… before someone else decides to."
Later that night, as Ryon sat alone on the balcony again, bruised and aching, the System chimed softly.
> Harem Progress: 1 of 3 Wife Bonds Initiated
Current Primary Target: Seyna of Ironflame
Next Tier Goal: Trigger Emotional Link Event – Unlock Her Secret
He sighed and tilted his head toward the stars.
"So now I've got to uncover a warrior queen's deepest secret... before I die."
The stars didn't answer.
> Challenge Accepted.