Reincarnated as an Evil Harem God-Chapter 18: Crimson and White

Sylvaris waited patiently, his golden eyes tracking every twitch, every hesitant breath, and every slight movement the man made. Each second that passed felt longer than the last, and the longer the man stalled, the more bored Sylvaris became.

Is he really this pathetic? His fingers tapped idly against his blade's hilt, his eyes half-lidded with irritation. The fight had barely started, yet it already felt like a chore.

He could see the frustration building in the man's eyes, that flicker of defiance trying to reignite itself. Despite his earlier attempt at bravery, the man's hesitation betrayed him.

Fine... I'll just end this... Once a coward, always a coward... Nothing can change that...

This 𝓬ontent is taken from freeweɓnovel.cѳm.

Sylvaris's foot shifted forward, his blade twisting with the flick of his wrist in a sudden and awkward angle — low and sharp — a strike meant to slice the man open from below.

Clang!

The sharp clash of metal rang out, sparks bursting in the air like fireflies.

Sylvaris's eyes widened slightly. The man had blocked the attack — not only that, but there was something new in his eyes. A fire burned there, fierce and untamed.

Sylvaris's grin spread wide, his pulse quickening. That fire... that was what he wanted.

"So you're finally going to fight me, huh?" Sylvaris laughed, his voice sharp and twisted. His grip on his sword tightened, his knuckles whitening. His heart pounded in excitement. Finally...

This is what he craved — the tension, the heat, the raw feeling of violence seething in his veins. He didn't just want to win; he wanted to crush the man's resolve, to shatter that flicker of courage until nothing remained.

His frustration boiled to the surface — frustration that had been gnawing at him ever since that damned princess stole control from him. That kiss... that smug face... and then being forced out here like I'm some exile? He gritted his teeth.

And now? He was being attacked by a bunch of nobodies who thought they could take his head for coin.

You're all just pissing me off...

Sylvaris let out a low chuckle, his fingers dancing on his blade's hilt. The pressure inside him needed to explode — and this man, this fool who dared to swing back, was going to pay the price.

"You should've just stayed a coward..." Sylvaris muttered, his smile turning cruel. "Now I'm going to rip you apart."

Something within Sylvaris stirred, a deep and undeniable hunger that demanded power, dominance, and blood. His grip on the blade tightened, his strikes becoming wild and reckless, driven by instinct rather than precision. His movements had lost their careful control, replaced by raw aggression that pushed him forward without regard for his own safety.

His blade, white as snow and sharp as winter's chill, clashed violently against the simple-looking sword. Sparks danced in the air like fireflies, and with each strike, the thug's weapon cracked bit by bit. The man's face darkened, his expression twisting with frustration and despair — but he wasn't finished yet.

Suddenly, a crimson light burst from the man's body, like blood boiling beneath his skin. The violent aura surged outwards, forcing Sylvaris to stumble back, his feet skidding across the ground. The thug's sword flared to life, wrapped in flickering flames that seemed to drip like liquid fire. His eyes turned blood-red, glowing with a rage that made Sylvaris grin.

So you're finally serious...

The man's breathing grew heavy, his gaze filled with murderous intent. He had unleashed a power Sylvaris recognized — Blood Burn. A deadly skill only Slashers could use as a last resort, burning away their own life force in exchange for overwhelming strength. It was a desperate move, the kind of ability a man used when he had nothing left to lose.

Sylvaris's grin widened. Perfect...

In the blink of an eye, the man vanished.

Where are you... Sylvaris's eyes narrowed, his senses sharpening. He turned his head, scanning the air, his instincts screaming at him. Then it hit him — a suffocating wave of killing intent from his left.

He twisted his body and lashed out with his blade.

BOOM!

The ground erupted beneath them, a violent shockwave splitting the earth in a jagged crack. Sylvaris staggered back, the force hurling him into the air like a ragdoll. His body felt weightless for a moment before pain shot through his muscles.

"HAHAHAHA! PERFECT!" Sylvaris's wild laughter rang out, his grin stretching wide. His body twisted mid-air, and with a powerful push from his legs, he landed against the trunk of a nearby tree.

Springing off like a coiled arrow, he shot through the air, a blur of white and crimson streaking toward the burning figure below. The thug raised his sword, eyes blazing like embers, prepared to slice Sylvaris in half.

But what happened next was something he never expected.

A brilliant white light erupted from Sylvaris's weapon, engulfing it entirely. The blade swelled to three times its size, flames of pure white burning so fiercely that the air itself twisted and rippled in the heat. The blazing weapon trembled in Sylvaris's grip, heavy as if he were lifting a mountain, yet that only made his grin stretch wider.

Shit... he forced me to use this... Sylvaris thought bitterly. I haven't trained in this ability in years... but it doesn't matter. Even an A-rank monster couldn't survive this... and neither will you.

His blade roared to life as he swung it downward. The air cracked like thunder as a wave of burning white light surged forward, swallowing the battlefield in its devastating glow. The power drained him instantly, and his weapon returned to normal, feeling light as a feather in his hand.

The crimson-eyed man didn't hesitate. With a roar, he raised his blade, pouring everything into one final desperate strike.

It didn't matter.

The white flame carved through him like a scalding blade slicing through wax. The crimson fire snuffed out, and his sword shattered like glass in his hands. He barely had time to understand what had happened before his body split in half, his lifeless torso falling to one side while his legs crumpled beneath him. His guts spilled across the cracked earth, steaming in the cold air.

Even in death, his crimson eyes still stared ahead, unblinking, unable to accept what had happened.

Sylvaris stood over the mangled corpse, his golden eyes flickering as his breath slowly steadied. Blood dripped from his hair and clung to his white clothes, staining him like an artist's twisted canvas.

"Hmph... worthless." He wiped his blade clean on the dead man's torn robes, flicking the blood away like dirt. A cold smile curled on his lips.