Dungeon Overlord: Monster Girl Harem!
Chapter 186 - 186: Loyalty, Shame, and Obsession

The citadel's war chamber still smelled faintly of fire-oil and cold steel. Leonhardt stepped in, his boots echoing on the black marble floor as the double doors swung closed behind him.

Two goblins waited within.

Gobomir stood at attention, his weathered plate armour polished to a deep bronze. His wolf sat quietly beside him, red eyes gleaming from the torchlight. Gobbolas lounged casually atop the long table, bow resting across his lap, a half-eaten fruit skewered on one of his arrows.

But both of them straightened the moment Leonhardt entered.

"My King!" Gobomir blurted, dropping to one knee so fast his shoulder plate clanged. "I am here to serve!"

"I told him to relax, because the King won't blame us. But he no listen."

Leonhardt stepped forward, arms crossed. "And you don't kneel?"

Gobbolas' grin widened. "I kneel in my heart, King! Yes. Very deep."

That earned him a side glance from Gobomir, who puffed up his chest proudly.

"Speak freely," Leonhardt said, waving a hand. "This isn't a court. It's a war table."

Gobomir rose, but his posture stayed stiff with that strange mix of pride and awe. "Squires are improving, a little weak. Humans behave, seem scared of our great King."

Leonhardt couldn't help but find it strange how well Gobbolas learned the speech pattern of humans, while Gobomir remained a little rough and true to his roots.

The intellect of the goblins increased faster, maybe it was because of their race, or interacting with humans daily, but most could speak like normal humans now, or at least a little broken.

"You've done well, I need to entrust the city to you both while I leave for a meeting in seven days."

Gobomir stiffened. His grip on the hilt of his chipped blade tightened. "Leave? Our King… going?"

"For a short while," Leonhardt confirmed. "To meet others like me."

Gobbolas narrowed one eye. "Other Dungeon Masters? Like… King-King? Or Snake King?"

Leonhardt gave a thin smile. "Not all of them are kings. Some are worse. Some are worms in gold skin. Others might be strong enough to challenge me."

Gobomir growled low. "We go with. Guard King!"

"No," Leonhardt said, shaking his head. "This isn't a fight you can swing a blade at. I need you both here. If trouble comes while I'm gone, this city must stand."

Gobbolas leaned forward, his eyes serious now. "Then give command, and we obey. Tell us what to watch."

Leonhardt turned to the war table. With a flick of his hand, the carved map shimmered. A mana-forged image of Astrea Basin, its six outer rings slowly shifting toward restoration, and the seventh — the innermost city — still smouldering beneath a haze of heat. New outposts flickered across the map: goblin settlements, human trade stations, patrol routes under construction.

"I want you," Leonhardt pointed at Gobomir, "to keep the central citadel secure. Let no assassin, no mage, no priest step inside these walls."

Gobomir thumped his chest with a loud clang. "Even gods bleed if we stab hard enough."

Leonhardt's mouth twitched. "Good."

He turned to Gobbolas. "And you. Maintain the outer perimeter. The trade routes. Keep watch on the border villages. If the humans try anything clever—

"They'll choke on goblin arrows," Gobbolas said with a nod.

After that, Leonhardt started showing him the borders, pointing to the places where humans and the church might strike.

He worried that the people who tried to attack Erina in Arlet still hid somewhere in his land. If they attacked, then although the goblins wouldn't lose... Zafira was here. But, what if he lost Gobomir or Gobbolas?

Leonhardt gave him an approving nod. "Make it happen. You'll have full access to the northern stone quarry. Use it."

Gobbolas grinned. "Will do. Maybe build statue of King, big one, holding human skull?"

Gobomir's eyes lit up. "I carve it! I good with chisels!"

Leonhardt waved a hand, half-smirking. "Save the flattery. Just make sure no idiot burns my city down while I'm away."

Gobomir stepped forward, then dropped again to one knee. Not out of fear. But conviction. "You gave us land, walls, name. We die before we let it fall."

Gobbolas didn't kneel — he just nodded with sharp pride. "No one takes Embervale from goblins. Not now."

Leonhardt studied them both. Goblins once seen as monsters now stood before him — one simple, loyal, unshakable. The other clever, sharp, a spark of ambition beneath his calm.

They weren't just followers anymore.

They were pieces of his kingdom.

"I leave in six days," Leonhardt said. "You'll both be tested before I go. Don't disappoint me."

He turned from the table, the echo of his boots returning down the marble stairs.

Behind him, Gobomir whispered to Gobbolas, voice almost reverent—

"He trust us."

Gobbolas exhaled. "Then we must not shame him."

They looked again at the war table.

And saw not just lines and names—

—but a kingdom.

Their kingdom.

Leonhardt had some free time, but there was something he wanted to do.

Turning towards a small locked door in the depths of the citadel, he chose to visit someone.

——

Water dripped from the ceiling. One drop at a time. Cold, rhythmic, unrelenting.

Diamond hung suspended from iron chains, her arms pulled above her head, legs parted and bound with shackles against the wall behind her. Her feet didn't touch the floor—just barely. Enough to strain, enough to keep her always slightly trembling.

Naked. Bleeding.

The wounds weren't fresh, but they hadn't been allowed to heal. Thin lines across her ribs, lashes that kissed the inner thigh, bruises where bindings had been too tight. Her skin, once golden, was now pale, drained, but not lifeless. It shimmered faintly in the moonstone embedded in the ceiling, just enough to catch her curves in the dark.

The door creaked open.

She stirred.

Her eyes opened—slowly, red-rimmed, hollow—and then narrowed the moment she saw him.

Leonhardt stepped into the chamber without a word. The steel door closed behind him with a hiss and groan of old metal. His robes trailed behind him like smoke, and the scent of him filled the cell before he even crossed halfway.

Diamond's breath caught.

It wasn't fear, at least not entirely.

His scent… it had stayed in her body, deep in her memory, stitched into her thoughts like a splinter that lingered in the dark. It was the smell of heat, of dominance, of her helpless shame. Her thighs twitched before she could stop them.

"You came back," she rasped.

Leonhardt said nothing at first. He stopped before her, gaze roaming her body, not like a man admiring flesh, but like a king inspecting a beast he once broke.

"I didn't ask you to speak."

Diamond clenched her jaw. Her nipples were already hard, part from cold, part from the way her body reacted on its own now.

She hated him for it.

She hated herself more.

"You think this… this cage will make me yours again?" she whispered, though her voice shook.

Leonhardt's hand came to her throat, not squeezing. Just touching. Fingers cold, firm.

"You already are," he whispered.

As if to prove his point, he slid a single finger along her thigh, and she gasped... moaning in a loud and uncontrolled voice.

Her breath shuddered. Leon could feel her pulse jumping, and hear the wet sound of her need starting to awaken again.

"You're still remembering it, aren't you? How it felt inside you." He spoke in a deep, menacing voice.

She bit her lip, but the heat between her legs said what she couldn't.

"Say it," he said. "Tell me what you remember."

"…Fuck you."

He smiled.

"No, that's not good..." he whispered. "You already did that."

Leonhardt's thumb dragged slow up her throat, letting the pressure build—not enough to choke, just enough to remind her of how helpless she really was. His other hand moved lower, between her thighs, gliding through the slick heat that betrayed every filthy truth her mouth refused to say.

Diamond jerked, chains rattling above, her back arching as a whimper tore out of her throat.

He didn't even look at her face.

Just his fingers—lazy, smooth, practised—sliding through her folds, parting them again, the way her body did before. Before she broke, before she snapped under the pressure of what she craved but swore she never wanted.

Leonhardt leaned in, close, his lips brushing her ear.

"You're soaked. Just from me touching you."

"Liar…" she hissed, but her voice cracked halfway through it, choked by the moan rising from her core as he slipped two fingers inside without warning.

Her whole body jolted.

"Oh gods—"

"No gods here," he growled against her neck. "Only me. Only the one who ruined you."

His fingers moved, not quick, but deep. Curling, dragging along the spot that made her knees twitch and her lips part in raw, instinctual need. Her cunt clenched around him like it remembered exactly how to behave.

"How long did you try to forget?" he murmured. "How long did you rub your thighs together in the dark, thinking about the way I stretched you open?"

She couldn't speak now—her mouth hung open, breath hitching, chest rising and falling as her nipples hardened in the cold air. Her arms ached, her legs trembled, but none of it mattered.

Leonhardt withdrew his fingers with a wet pop, her juices flicking onto the floor and down her thighs as her body cried out for them. Slippery and moist, they glistened under the moonstone light.

Then he licked them clean.

Slow.

Eyes locked on hers.

"You taste like shame, violets and obsession," he muttered, voice heavy with sin. "The kind that never fades."

"Bastard…" she breathed, legs trembling, cunt dripping.

And still, she hated him.

But her body… her body loved him more than breath.

"You want it again," he said, his voice a dark promise. "You want me to ruin you all over."

Diamond shook her head.

But her hips lifted, revealing her pulsing entrance. Just a little, but enough for Leon to notice.

Leonhardt chuckled low in his throat.

"Then beg."

She didn't answer.

Not with words.

But her thighs spread wider. And the chain above creaked.

He stepped closer.

And began untying his robe.

The corruption of a human was fun, Leonhardt never realised this... until meeting Dia.

'How long until you become a monster?'