Emperor's harem: Transmigrated with SSS mana talent
Chapter 103: [People are dying!!!]

Chapter 103: [People are dying!!!]

Different shapes. Wrong shapes.

Rank 1. Rank 2. Rank 3.

Snarling. Screeching. Crawling. Flying.

The ground trembled.

Too many.

Now—finally—they panicked.

Eiden took command without hesitation, his voice calm but forceful.

"Everyone! Form a defensive circle around the camp—now! They’re still only up to Rank 3. Don’t let them overwhelm us!"

Selina nodded, stepping up beside him.

"If things get out of control, the Elders—Rank 4—will step in.

Hold the line."

That promise sparked something in the others.

The haze of fear lifted, if only slightly.

Ronan barked,

"Then let’s show them who’s boss here!"

He surged forward, commanding the War God Temple disciples, his hands already weaving fire through the air.

Selina moved with quiet intensity, her followers from the Night Goddess Church rallying to her side like shadows drawn to dusk.

And Eiden—sharp, focused—stepped into the fray with his guardian, Darius, moving beside him like a twin blade.

Controlled. Deadly.

Then the clash began.

The camp was in motion—wild, frenzied motion.

Spells cracked through the night.

Swords flashed. Beasts screamed.

So did men.

Somewhere, someone shouted, "Why does that one have three heads?!"

Another voice, half-laughing, half-panicked:

"Just hit something,"

"I am! It’s not dying!"

A disciple tripped near the fire pit, shrieking as a beast lunged.

"Not the face, not the face—!"

A priest hurled a glowing spear and muttered,

"I was supposed to be on kitchen duty today..."

Roars echoed, too close.

A shadow passed over the camp.

Someone screamed, "That one’s flying! Why is it flying?!"

"Shut up and cast, fool!"

No one knew where the beasts came from.

No one knew why.

And no one knew if they’d make it out alive.

In the heart of that madness—surrounded by flame and blood and fury—none of them noticed.

The beasts weren’t attacking at random.

They were flowing around the defenses.

Drawn to a single place.

Elara’s carriage.

Kael sat calmly in front of the bonfire, the crackling flames painting flickers of gold across his face.

Behind him, the camp was descending into madness—screams, explosions, the guttural howls of beasts.

Selene nudged him lightly. "Should we... maybe help?"

Kael glanced over his shoulder.

A beast pounced—its jaws snapped shut around a screaming disciple, crunching down with a wet, awful sound.

Blood sprayed in a thick arc, painting the air red.

Another monster tackled a mage to the ground and tore him open, ribcage first—like breaking into a meal.

Screams. Howls. The sound of flesh tearing and fire crackling.

A panicked man ran past, only to be impaled through the gut by a spiked tail.

He gargled something that might’ve been a prayer before collapsing in a twitching heap.

Kael turned back to Selene, completely unbothered.

"They’re doing fine," he said. "No need to interrupt."

He picked up a skewer of roasted meat, still glistening with juice, and held it out to her.

Selene blinked at him—then leaned forward.

Kael grinned and gently fed her.

She smiled and, in turn, tore off a piece and held it up to his mouth.

He took it, chewing slowly.

Then—a sudden, awkward cough cut through the air in front of them.

Kael looked up, expression flat.

Elara stood there, eyes wide, her face a pale mask of disbelief.

"What are you doing?" she asked, voice shaking.

"People are dying!!!"

Kael stared at Elara, his face as still as stone.

"...Then why are you here?" he asked flatly, voice devoid of urgency.

"Shouldn’t you be out there helping them?"

Elara opened her mouth. "I—I..."

She faltered.

Kael raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching into a mocking smile.

"Thought so."

Selene chuckled softly beside him, resting her elbow on her knee, completely relaxed despite the screaming in the distance.

That was the final straw.

Elara’s voice rose, sharp and furious.

"I came to keep an eye on this bitch—who’s been crawling all over my husband!"

Everything froze for a moment.

Kael blinked, stunned.

Selene slowly sat up straighter, her smile gone.

"What did you just say?"

Elara was already glaring daggers.

Selene stood.

"Bitch? Kael doesn’t love you. He loves me. You’re the third wheel here—"

"Oh, please," Elara snapped, stepping closer. "He’s my fiancé—"

"—in name only!" Selene shot back.

Kael was already crawling away—hands and knees digging into the cold earth, eyes fixed on the battlefield ahead like it was salvation.

He knew what was coming.

Disaster.

Not the kind with claws and teeth.The human kind.The kind with sharp words and impossible logic.The kind no spell could counter.

He didn’t look back.

Behind him, their voices grew louder.

Elara snapped, "Let’s just ask Kael! He’ll tell you who he cares about."

Selene hissed, "He already told you, bitch!"

A pause. Then silence.Kael could feel the shift.

He didn’t need to turn around to know they were both looking for him.

But he was gone.

By the time they spun around, he had already reached the edge of camp, slipping through the confusion like a man escaping a collapsing building.

"...He ran?" Elara muttered, stunned.

Selene blinked. "He... really ran?"

Then—like fuel to fire—the argument started again.

Louder. Uglier.

Kael collapsed behind a ruined tree, panting hard, limbs trembling—not from battle, but from sheer relief.

Just minutes earlier, he’d stood near the edge of the chaos, arms crossed, watching the battlefield with a raised brow.

The disciples were playing it safe—too safe.

Hiding behind stones. Launching spells from comfortable distances. Yelling orders instead of swinging blades.

He clicked his tongue in disappointment.

"Should I help them?" he murmured to himself.

He rose to his feet, stretched like a man waking from a nap, then cupped his hands around his mouth.

"Be brave!" he shouted with theatrical enthusiasm.

Some turned, startled.

Kael grinned and strolled forward, voice rising again.

"Don’t hide—fight! Bleed! That’s what heroes do, right?"

Then he spotted a young disciple huddled behind a broken cart, whispering a spell under his breath.

Kael marched right up to him.

"Hey. You."

The disciple looked up, confused—then horrified—as Kael grabbed him by the collar and, without missing a beat, hurled him toward the nearest beast.

"BE BRAVE!" Kael shouted, like a war cry.

The poor soul flailed mid-air before vanishing into a massive maw.

A wet snap. Gone.

Gasps followed. Eyes turned.

Kael smiled wider.

"See? Heroic."

He raised his arms and shouted louder, mock-inspiring now:

"Be brave! Let’s kill them all—with our hearts! Our courage! Our—"

He grabbed another trembling caster.

"—our bodies!"😂

Another sacrifice soared screaming into the blood-soaked jaws of a monster.

A soft voice came from behind.

"He... he was a healer."

Everyone turned to look at Kael.

Kael blinked. Coughed. Cleared his throat.

"...Well. Now he’s one with nature."

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