The festivities had barely cooled before something colder crept into the air—something that even Kaela's boar refused to snort at. The day after the explosive celebration, while half the guild members were nursing hangovers or sugar comas, a new visitor arrived at the gates of "Linked Hearts." They didn't knock. They didn't speak. They simply stood there.
Cloaked in black, face hidden by a wide hood that shimmered with a strange distortion—as if even light didn't want to look directly at them—the figure watched silently as guild life went on. Children from the village played nearby, unaware of the weight of the presence beside them. Kaela, tossing feed to her bird-fox hybrid, felt her beast growl before she did. Jax, half-drunk and tuning a lute, hiccuped, frowned, and said, "That's bad mojo." Then passed out.
No one really noticed when the figure entered. One second the door creaked. The next, they were inside.
MC was in the middle of organizing quest flyers, most of them ridiculous requests for "squirrel singing auditions" or "dragon foot rubs" that he suspected Jax had planted as jokes. He looked up, startled. "Oh! Sorry—guild office is actually—uh—wait, who are you?"
The figure didn't answer, but tilted their head. It was the kind of movement that made you feel like your soul had been weighed. And maybe found amusing. Or edible.
Lina walked in just then, a scroll in her hand and irritation on her face. "MC, did you misfile the—" She stopped. Her flame aura flickered instinctively. "Who's this?"
Iris appeared too, time-magic humming like a warning bell around her fingers. "Not a guest," she said immediately.
Kaela stomped in, spear in hand, boar at her heels. "He smells wrong," she muttered.
MC held up both hands. "Okay, okay, let's not burn the guest. Yet."
The figure finally spoke. Their voice was androgynous, low, and oddly melodic. "So this is the 'Linked Hearts' guild. I expected more walls."
"What does that even—wait, are you insulting our architecture?" MC blinked.
No answer. The figure walked slowly around the room, gaze sliding from member to member. When they passed Luna, she froze. For just a heartbeat, her healing staff trembled. They paused.
"You…" the figure whispered. "You've walked the Threshold."
Luna swallowed. "I don't know what you mean."
"Don't lie to me, acolyte."
The word echoed in the room like a curse. Everyone turned. Luna's lips parted, but no words came. Her face was pale.
MC stepped forward, confused but protective. "Okay, seriously. Who are you?"
The figure turned to him.
And smiled.
It wasn't a warm smile. It wasn't even a cold one. It was… knowing. A smile from something that saw too much and cared too little.
"You are the anomaly," they said. "The King with no crown, dancing on threads not yet woven."
He blinked. "...What?"
They laughed. Softly. Then they bowed, deep and unsettling. "The Cult of the System acknowledges your existence, Harem King."
The room froze.
Kaela gripped her spear tighter. "How do you know that title?"
Lina's flames flared. "Did you send that freak at the Trials? The one who tried to collapse the arena?"
"No," said the figure. "But we watched. We always watch."
Before anyone could react, the air shimmered—and they were gone. No puff of smoke, no spell circle. Just… gone. A silence deeper than magic settled behind them.
Everyone looked at Luna.
She lowered her gaze. "They're real. The Cult. I used to be—"
"—One of them," Iris finished, lips tight. "I suspected as much."
"You don't understand. I left," Luna said quickly. "I didn't agree with what they were doing. But they… mark people. Once you've seen behind the System's veil, you never really walk away."
MC sat down, dazed. "Did they really just call me the Harem King? Like, out loud? Like that's normal?"
Kira appeared from the shadows, rolling her eyes. "That's your concern right now?"
"Yes!" MC waved his arms. "It's a stupid title!"
Jax, half-awake on the stairs, mumbled, "It's kinda catchy."
Iris sighed. "We need to prepare."
Kaela was already sharpening weapons.
Lina stared at the space where the figure had stood and whispered, "They're coming."
MC looked around at his chaotic, fiercely loyal, wildly unpredictable guild and rubbed his forehead. "Great. So, we beat the Trials, threw a wild party, accidentally became local celebrities… and now a cult wants to kill us."
"Or recruit you," Luna muttered.
"Oh yeah, much better," he groaned.
Outside, the wind picked up. Far beyond the walls of the guild, in chambers cloaked in ancient symbols and cold, calculating minds, the Cult of the System had taken notice. Spies would follow. Agents would test the boundaries.
And somewhere deep underground, the true leader of the Cult—still faceless, still nameless—opened a book bound in light and void. On the latest page, written in burning ink:
THE HAREM KING HAS AWAKENED.
The hunt had begun.
END OF CHAPTER 51