Champion Of Lust: Gods Conquer's Harem Paradise! - Chapter 325

Dark golden hair cascading over her shoulders, luminous eyes that burned with divine judgment. The glow wasn’t comforting. It was the kind that belonged to executioners and queens who never bled for the condemned.

He knew her.

He hated that he knew her.

“What… are you doing here, human princess?” His voice was calm, but the twitch in his fingers betrayed him.

She smiled.

Not kind.

Not cruel.

Indifferent… A goddess descending upon her prey.

“Mmm… almost forgot you never saw me when we attacked your estate back then no wonder you’re not attacking right away.” Alexa tilted her head, voice almost teasing.

Dragomir’s pupils slit. His mind raced, then realization hit like thunder. “You… You were there-with that little bastard!” His face twisted in fury.

His mistake.

Her eyes sharpened, the golden glow intensifying.

THWACK!

Her punch struck his gut like a hammer.

Dragomir’s breath was ripped from his lungs.

The force lifted him clean off the ground.

His body arched before he was hurled across the room, colliding with the stone wall with a deafening crack.

Before he could recover, air shifted-sharp.

A golden whistle echoed.

THUNK!

A glowing arrow pierced his right hand, pinning it to the wall.

THUNK!

Another-left hand this time.

THUNK!

Right foot.

THUNK!

Left foot.

Dragomir hung spread-eagled, limbs pinned, chest heaving, trapped like an offering on a sacrificial slab.

Alexa’s golden eyes narrowed. “How dare you call my man that…” Her voice was liquid venom.

Dragomir bared his fangs, struggling-but every attempt to free himself only sent searing agony through his pinned limbs.

Golden light throbbed around his wounds, the energy keeping him immobile yet painfully aware of every sensation, he couldn’t master any strength to fight back, his connection to his core had been cut off.

Alexa stepped closer, the click of her heels echoing like a countdown.

The grace. The deadly poise.

Even pinned, even wounded-Dragomir couldn’t help but stare.

She was radiant. Terrifying. Beautiful.

Yet there was nothing gentle in her gaze.

A golden whip materialized in her hand, coiling with crackling energy, its edges glowing with a serrated light sharp enough to slice the air itself.

She raised it slowly.

Dragged it across his chest, the heat making his skin sizzle-just enough to sear without breaking him yet.

“Look at you.” Her voice dropped to a whisper, honeyed but cruel.

“After all this time. All your planning. And yet… you’re still so weak.” The whip lashed out.

CRACK.

Dragomir’s body jerked as the golden arc left a burning welt across his chest.

Blood seeped.

The scent of charred flesh filled the air.

But it wasn’t enough.

Alexa stepped forward.

CRACK-CRACK-CRACK.

Each strike was precise. Controlled. Beautiful, in a way that only a master could make violence into art.

And through it all, her smile never wavered.

Elegant. Deadly like a goddess delivering a divine judgment Dragomir’s body trembled, but his pride kept him silent.

Until she whispered, leaning close to his ear.

“You dared plot against my family—against my man. Did you think no one would know before you executed. Did you think I wouldn’t come for you?” A golden dagger materialized in her free hand.

The blade kissed his collarbone.

Slice.

Thin lines of blood ran down his chest.

Her free hand formed into a gauntlet, its edges thorned and wicked.

She punched him again.

The thorns tore into his ribs.

“Ahhhhhh….” Dragomir screamed.

But her face was still calm.

Still beautiful. “You’re not dying yet,” Alexa whispered, brushing a bloodstained finger along his cheek.

“I’ve barely begun.” The golden dagger twisted.

Not fast.

Alexa drew it down his chest with surgical precision, parting flesh as effortlessly as silk. Blood welled up, spilling over his torn shirt, staining the fabric dark. Dragomir’s body jerked, breath ragged, but he couldn’t move—wouldn’t move.

The divine energy pinning his limbs made sure of that.

“Stop…please…” His voice broke, a hoarse, pathetic rasp.

She whispered her wrath warm against his bloodied skin. “Stop?”

The dagger reversed.

Its point pressed just beneath his clavicle—then sank deeper.

Dragomir arched, a ragged scream ripping from his throat. She didn’t flinch, the blade twisted.

The sickening sound of muscle tearing filled the room as she carved slowly—deliberately—until the shoulder joint cracked loose with a wet, popping sound. His arm hung unnaturally, the ligaments shredded beyond repair.

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His body convulsed.

But the pain wasn’t enough to make him pass out.

She wouldn’t allow it. A whisper of energy kept him conscious, forcing him to feel every nerve screaming for mercy.

Dragomir’s head slumped forward, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth in slow, uneven splatters. His once-pristine clothing hung in tatters, shredded by the jagged rents Alexa had carved into his flesh.

His breath came in ragged gasps, too shallow to be called breathing—just the body instinctively clinging to life. To suffering.

But Alexa had not yet begun to show him suffering.

The golden dagger pulsed in her hand, its ethereal glow reflected in the widening pool of crimson beneath his feet. Dragomir’s trembling was involuntary now, his limbs contorting against the thorned energy chains keeping him spread, vulnerable.

Still, there was defiance in those bloodshot eyes. Faint. Fading. But there.

Alexa stepped closer. The heels of her boots clicked softly on the cold stone, the sound echoing against the forgotten walls of this cursed place. She knelt, close enough that her lips brushed his ear as she whispered.

“Do you think this is cruelty, Dragomir?”

The words coiled around him like a noose. Her voice was calm, soft, but the ice behind it was absolute.

“Do you think…this pain matters? That these wounds I’ve given you are unfair?” Her bloodstained hand—still gloved, the thorns damp with gore—rose to cup his chin, forcing his head up.

“Look at me.”

His eyelids fluttered, barely able to meet her gaze. But when he did—

He saw it all.

In those golden eyes.

Visions. Echoes. A ripple in reality itself.

A future… They had succeeded in the future… His breath caught.

It was more than pain, more than agony they had brought to that family… I only Alexa hadn’t interfered.

Alexa wasn’t simply punishing him for fun. No. She had seen the future.

And what Dragomir Skalethorn and Silas would have done if she hadn’t come here—if she had allowed them to keep plotting—was worse. Far worse.

It wasn’t just her anger burning through his flesh. All the pain she had suffered in the future, she was going to give it to him.