CHAPTER 80: MOVING FORWARD

The moon was cresting high over the Crydias Estate, its silver light gently kissing the rooftops, while inside the mansion, the warmth of shared laughter and soft voices echoed into quiet goodnights.

Most of the new girls—still adjusting to the rhythm of this strange, surreal new life—found themselves yawning after dinner, the day’s intensity catching up to them. The tension of fear had gradually been replaced by a cautious comfort.

They were no longer trembling slaves in a market cage.

They were residents of a place they had decided to nickname:

The Divine Castle.

That name, spoken first by the dreamy Sionne Raventhorn Elivaria, caught on quickly. Whispers of "divine resonance" and "mana-bathed rooms" spread like an enchanting breeze through their group.

"It’s not just rooms,"

Kelyth Ilvara had murmured in wonder earlier.

"The walls sing. The air vibrates like it’s listening to you."

And truly, the architecture of the place—crafted through Ancient technology and anchored to the Divine Heart Core within him—felt alive. The rooms adjusted to individual resonance, the temperature softened to comfort, the bedding felt like it memorized your body.

No one protested the move.

Even the senior girls—Aurevia, Cellione, Serineth, Virellen, and Auralyne—who had long since claimed quarters in the mansion, agreed to relocate.

"We’re staying too,"

Serineth said softly.

"If anyone gets night terrors from all this divine weirdness, we’ll be there to hold you."

"Speak for yourself,"

Cellione yawned, stretching.

"I’m staying because those beds are divine. If I’m going to be part of a revolution, I’m doing it well-rested."

"Besides,"

Added Aurevia with calm dignity,

"there are more than enough rooms. It’s not like we’re intruding."

"You know, there isn’t any gate until I will it. I don’t know where the intruding part coming from. You all will be in separate rooms. Unless you girls want to sleep in the same bed and room."

There was silence for few moments.

"Right, I forgot."

Aurevia said with a blush.

They gathered in the living room one last time, bags light, spirits lighter. Alaric stood by the elegant arch-gate that connected the estate to the Inner Sanctum of his heart—where the Divine Castle existed.

He raised his hand, and with a quiet hum of gold and silver light, the portal shimmered open.

"One at a time,"

He said with a smile.

"No stampeding."

The girls started passing through, each stepping into the portal like it was a door to a dream.

Then came the last five—his core girls, the companions closest to him.

They approached casually, but the air around them always felt... fuller.

Just as Virellen reached the threshold, Alaric smirked.

He tapped his chest—specifically over his heart—and said with a glint in his eye,

"You know... since it’s inside here, I can see everything."

There was a pause.

Then a synchronized flinch from all five girls.

"I knew it!" Virellen snapped, pointing a finger at him.

"You are a pervert!"

"I’m just being honest,"

Alaric grinned.

"Honest doesn’t mean ethical!"

Cellione quipped.

"Is this how you treat your devoted Mistresses?"

Auralyne asked, mock-offended.

"Depends on how devoted they are, but looks like your quite accepting of that role huh."

He replied smoothly, giving them a wink.

Aurevia rolled her eyes, but her faint blush betrayed amusement. Serineth muttered something incomprehensible under her breath, her ears red. Auralyne’s eyes where darting around as if an answer will magically appear in the walls.

"Go on, then,"

Alaric said, still smirking.

"Have sweet dreams, ladies. Try not to fight over who gets the warmest bed."

"We’ll be watching you, too,"

Virellen muttered darkly before vanishing into the gate.

One by one, the girls disappeared, the portal humming gently shut behind the last of them.

And then, for the first time that evening, silence returned.

Alaric stood alone in the corridor, hands in his pockets. The light of the sconce flickered lazily, casting golden patterns over the floor.

He let out a long breath.

"They’ll be fine."

His voice was soft, carrying neither worry nor pride—just the quiet awareness of someone who knew the weight of responsibility.

With slow, thoughtful steps, he walked toward his own quarters. Unlike the grand Divine Castle, his room was modest—spartan by comparison—but familiar. Anchoring.

He opened the door, slipped inside, and let it close gently behind him.

Another day passed.

The threads of fate had tightened.

And deep in the heart of the world, the web quietly grew.

*****

✢═─༻༺═✢═─༻༺═✢

✶ I Reincarnated as an Extra ✶

✧ in a Reverse Harem World ✧

⊱ Eternal_Void_ ⊰

✢═─༻༺═✢═─༻༺═✢

*****

The morning sun had only just begun to melt through the mist shrouding the hills when Alaric stepped out of his private mansion and into the chilled stillness of the Crydias Estate’s outer gardens.

The wind was crisp, carrying the faint scent of dew-brushed grass and distant ironwood trees. His cloak rustled lightly at his heels, silver-stitched embroidery catching in the light like constellations stitched onto fabric.

He walked alone.

The mansion grounds were quiet at this hour—the new girls still resting in their sanctified chambers, the older ones likely snoring under enchanted duvets. Alaric’s steps were measured, his mind far from idle.

"They can’t just sleep all day,"

He muttered, his gaze turning skyward.

"Talent without refinement is just wasted potential."

The girls were brilliant—chosen for their specialties. But brilliance needed structure. And time was never a luxury in his life.

He reached the main building—Lord Crydias’s estate headquarters. Two servants stood guard, but they bowed and stepped aside wordlessly. Inside, a small council room had been prepared for his request.

Already seated was Miren Halworth, a logistics expert and scribe assigned to the estate. Middle-aged, with a head of iron-gray hair and keen eyes, she rose the moment he entered. Also recently bounded by Lady Crydias.

So there wasn’t any problem.

"Lord Alaric,"

She greeted with reverence.

"Morning, Miren,"

He said simply.

"Let’s get to it."

He didn’t sit. Just walked to the table where the documents were laid, scanning them with swift precision. Then he raised a hand.

"I need full provisioning for the Six Pillars."

Miren blinked.

"All of them, my lord?"

"All of them. Blacksmithing, formation magic, aetherwrighting, resonance architecture, herbalism, alchemy. Every discipline."

He listed them with practiced ease.

"I want raw materials—iron, sunsteel, living bark, glowroot. Enchanted catalysts. Stabilized formation ink. Cooling runes, soundproof walls. Alchemical burners and drip-vats. Arcane testing crystals. Holy water and toxin dust. Nightglass. Tethered formation paper—unrolled and refined. Whatever’s needed, get it here."

"And books,"

He added after a pause.

"Techniques. Formulas. Manuals. Ancient guides. Legal, illegal, I don’t care. Buy them, borrow them, translate them if needed."

Miren scribbled furiously.

The new girls are not here for leisure. They are to begin practice immediately. Designated rooms in the Divine Castle are already configured for compatibility. The mana is tuned to their resonance. They’ll feel it calling them.

"Inform the Crydias supply branches,"

Alaric continued, his voice like flowing mercury.

"We’ll need regular shipments, not one-time deliveries. Every tool, every drop of essence, every scrap of ore must arrive on time. No waste. No delay."

He paused only then, meeting her gaze.

"Think of this as the backbone of a divine civilization."

Miren nodded.

"Understood, my lord. It shall be done."

Alaric turned to go, but paused at the door.

"One more thing."

He looked over his shoulder.

"Make sure there’s parchment for the girls to take notes. I want them thinking like inventors—not workers."

And with that, he vanished from the room, his cloak trailing behind him like a living sigil, leaving only a quiet air of momentum behind.

The world wouldn’t wait.

So neither would he.

-To Be Continued