Primordial Chaos Dragon Tower: Harem System

The alliance army numbered over thirty thousand, while the Bloodvein army was slightly above seven thousand.

Naturally, their instinctive fear kicked in, so they started to panic.

However, Kent just sat calmly in the air, watching the incredibly large army march toward them, their evil intent visible in their eyes.

“Looks like every last one of them is committed to this battle,” Kent said to himself with a sigh. “What a pity. I would have been slightly merciful. But looking at your intent, it’s best I put you down.”

Thus, Kent continued to watch as the army approached and stopped a kilometer from them. The moment they halted, the tribe chiefs and elders, alongside their generals from the Dreadclaw and Soulshroud tribes, stepped forward.

On the Bloodvein side, Tribe Chief Malthar and the elders also stepped forward. Kent, who was seated on a branch, saw Velyra preparing to move forward, so he gave her the go-ahead.

“You can go. I will be right behind you.” Velyra nodded and vanished, appearing beside her father. They moved a few meters forward and stopped, maintaining a distance of 900 meters between them.

Though that didn’t really do much, all still heard their voices.

“Tribe Chief Malthar, we gave you enough time to hand over what we demanded, but it seems you chose death,” Tribe Chief Rokar of the Dreadclaw tribe said, looking smugly at the Bloodveins.

“Who are you kidding, Rokar? I know you’re rotten, but I never expected you to be rotten to the core. How can you let these soul animals pull you into their scheme?

Did that little brain of yours do any thinking to realize this won’t end well for you?”

Kent, who was up in the tree, mouthed the word “Damn” after hearing Tribe Chief Malthar’s words.

The fight hadn’t started yet, but he had already scored a damn. His words were both harsh and a reality check for the Dreadclaw tribe, but it seemed they didn’t really want to listen.

“Whether we are mere weapons in this invasion or not, at the end of the day, you will be the one crying,” Tribe Chief Rokar said.

Tribe Chief Malthar shook his head and locked eyes with Tribe Chief Calthar, the chief of the Soulshroud tribe.

“I never pegged you for being a schemer, Calthar.”

Tribe Chief Calthar smirked. “Your end has come, Malthar. I don’t have to tell you how happy I am about that.”

The Soulshroud Tribe’s people have translucent, pale skin that glows faintly in the dark, giving them an ethereal, ghost-like appearance. Their eyes are black, with many possessing no pupils or irises at all.

They all have this ghostlike appearance, making them appear very dangerous. Kent raised his brow when he sensed something from the side of the Soulshroud army.

“As expected of a soul tribe, they have things to protect their souls from even a Tier 11 soul attack.” Kent sensed that the two elders, despite being at Tier 10, had soul items protecting them from even attacks from him.

A young man, who was undoubtedly the prince, also had the same item protecting him.

“Not that it mattered. They will die, and that is final,” Kent smirked.

As for Tribe Chief Calthar, his soul was Tier 11, so Kent knew he had found the danger—or perhaps the first danger-that must be eliminated if the Bloodvein wanted any chance of winning.

Chief Malthar looked at the Alliance army as if sizing them up. He then shifted his attention back to the tribe chiefs of the two major clans.

“Tell me, what did they offer you two to go as far as helping them cast a Tier 13 spell that is eroding both my domain and bloodline? What could they have possibly given you?”

This time, the two tribe chiefs frowned upon hearing what Chief Malthar said.

“You think we wouldn’t know, huh? We know of your plans and what this means for my people. Naturally, I was shocked to learn that people we called neighbors could be this cruel.

However, it doesn’t matter, because after today, you two will be dead, and your people will have no leaders to guide or protect them.

And knowing the dangerous nature of this region, you two have doomed your people.”

“Oh? And what gave you the confidence to say that? In ten years, you all would be dead unless you submit to us?” Tribe Chief Calthar said.

“You are dead meat, Malthar,” Tribe Chief Rokar added.

“What if I say no to that? Would you two perhaps straighten up and leave?” Kent suddenly appeared in the air, looking smugly at the two tribe chiefs.

“And you are?” they asked.

“You can just call me a concerned human who doesn’t like minding his own business. Now, I’m going to ask again: what if I said no to your arrogance? Are you going to retreat and never return here again?”

“Never!” both tribe chiefs shouted, glaring coldly at the foreigner who had appeared.

Kent smiled and turned his head, locking eyes with Prince Ebert.

“You are Ebert, right?” he asked.

“I don’t answer to lowly humans like you,” Prince Ebert said, pointing his left hand at Kent. He had killed quite a few unfortunate humans who had found themselves in the Dead Region.

So, to him, he had just found another human to torture. If only he knew death was smiling at his stupidity.

Kent shook his head, hearing Prince Ebert’s words.

“In that case, why don’t you obey this?” Kent flashed an evil smile that made the princes tremble in their hearts.

“Drop dead.” Kent snapped his fingers, and like a mango falling from a branch, the prince dropped dead. One moment he was standing—then the next, he collapsed lifelessly.

The faces of everyone turned pale at the sight. However, before anyone could react, Kent pointed at two Batkins.

“You can join your master in the afterlife.” He snapped his fingers again, causing the two Peak Sovereigns to drop dead without any resistance.

The sudden death of three people from the Dreadclaw tribe sent a wave of panic through the alliance army.

They didn’t know how it happened, but looking at the three bodies on the ground, it became painfully clear—they were in deep trouble.

All eyes turned to Kent, but when they saw his smile, their hearts trembled.

“Who are you?”

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