Harem in the making

We set out into the forest, the crunch of leaves beneath our feet the only sound interrupting the early morning serenity. The sun was still low in the sky, casting dappled shadows across the path. As we walked, I couldn't help but steal glances at Lyria. Her armor was tight, accentuating every curve of her body. Her breasts bounced with each step, and I couldn't help but feel a stirring in my loins.

"Hey, system," I whispered, trying not to be too obvious. "Any tips on how to not be a complete perv?"

[Just don't stare, dumbass. You're supposed to be a hero, not a creep. Focus on the task at hand, not the task you wish you had in hand.]

"Thanks, that's super helpful," I murmured.

As we ventured deeper into the woods, the tension grew. The air was thick with the scent of burning wood and fear. We were hunting the goblin raiding party before they could return to their lair and regroup.

"I can't believe I'm fighting goblins with an elf," I said, trying to make conversation. "It's like I'm in some kind of fantasy novel."

Lyria shot me a sideways glance, her silver hair fluttering in the breeze. "Is that all this is to you? A game or a story?"

"What? No!" I protested. "I'm totally into saving the village and all that. I just mean... it's all pretty surreal."

Her gaze softened, and she nodded. "I understand. The first time is always strange. But you must focus. These goblins are not just nuisances; they are a real threat to us all."

I nodded, trying to push the images of Lyria's bouncing breasts out of my mind. I had a quest to complete, and I wasn't going to fail because I couldn't keep my eyes where they belonged.

We came upon a clearing where the goblins had set up a makeshift camp. They were huddled around a fire, roasting something that smelled suspiciously like village livestock. The sight made my blood boil. "Alright, let's do this," I said, gripping the hilt of my Eternal Dark Sword.

Lyria nodded. "We take them out quickly and quietly. No heroics, understand?"

I saluted her with the blade. "Got it, boss."

We crept closer, my heart pounding like a drumline. The goblins were jabbering away, completely oblivious to our approach. I took a deep breath and counted to three.

On three, we struck. I swung my sword with all my might, taking out the first goblin with a clean hit. It squealed, and the others looked up in surprise.

But it was Lyria who was truly a sight to behold. She moved with the grace of a gazelle, her spear flashing through the air like a silver bolt of lightning. Goblins fell before her like wheat before a scythe.

I couldn't help but watch, my mouth agape. Her breasts bobbed slightly with each thrust and parry, a mesmerizing dance of steel and flesh that I hadn't noticed before. It was like watching poetry in motion, except with more blood and less poetry.

[Remember, you're fighting, not ogling. Get your shit together, hero.]

The system's voice snapped me out of my trance. "Right," I murmured, and focused on the battle.

With a roar that I didn't know I had, I swung my sword in a wide arc, channeling all my frustration and newfound strength into the blow. To my shock, a massive shockwave rippled out from the blade, sending leaves and dirt flying in every direction. The goblins looked at me with wide eyes, their jaws dropping like they'd just seen a dragon swoop down for brunch.

The shockwave sliced through the air with a sound like a thousand shattering glasses. The goblins in its path didn't have time to react before they were bisected neatly, their green bodies falling to either side of me like a grisly curtain. The remaining goblins stumbled back, their eyes wide with fear.

Lyria paused, her spear hovering in the air. She looked at me, then at the carnage around us. "What the hell did you just do?" she breathed.

"I... I don't know," I admitted, staring at my sword. "It's like it just... leveled up again."

The system beeped in my head. [Your Eternal Dark Sword has reached Level 4! New Ability: Shockwave Slash!]

I grinned, feeling like a kid who'd just discovered he had superpowers. "Well, shit. Guess I'm not totally useless."

The goblins didn't wait around for us to admire my handiwork. They turned tail and ran, their cries of fear echoing through the forest. I watched them go, feeling a thrill of victory.

As we walked back to the village, the system notification chimed in my head.

[ Charisma +5! ]

I blinked, looking at the glowing blue numbers in disbelief. "What just happened?" I asked, looking at the sword.

Lyria glanced at me, her expression unreadable. "Your power... it's unnatural."

"Yeah, tell me about it," I said, sheathing the weapon. "But hey, look on the bright side, I can finally sweet talk my way out of a paper bag."

The rest of the journey was spent with Lyria eyeing me like I was some kind of volatile explosive, and the villagers giving me a wide berth. It wasn't until we were back in the village, the goblin raiding party defeated and their loot returned, that things started to feel normal.

"So, uh, Lyria," I began, hoping to break the awkward silence that had settled between us. "What's your story? How'd you end up in the Crimson Moon Mercenaries?"

Her eyes searched mine for a moment, as if looking for any hint of deceit or mockery. Finding none, she sighed, and the weight of a thousand battles seemed to leave her shoulders. "My tale is not one of heroic beginnings or grand destinies," she said, her voice soft. "I was born in the heart of the Elven Kingdom, in a time of peace and prosperity. But peace can be as fragile as a spider's web."

The way she spoke, with the gravity of someone who had seen too much, too young, made me swallow hard. "What happened?"

"The orcs came," she said, her voice cold as ice. "They ravaged our lands, killed my family. I was the only one who escaped."

I felt like I'd been punched in the gut. "I'm sorry," I said, the words feeling pathetic in the face of her loss.

"Don't be," she said, a fierce glint in her eye. "It's what made me strong. It's what made me into what I am today."

Her story was a stark reminder that this wasn't just a game. These people had lives, histories, and pain. I made a mental note to be more empathetic in the future, even if I was just a glitch in the system.

The villagers had gathered around us, their faces a mix of awe and fear. The children looked at me like I was some kind of demigod, while the adults offered cautious nods of respect. I tried to play it cool, but the truth was, I felt like a fraud. I had lucked into this situation, and now I had to pretend I knew what I was doing.

As we approached the village elder, a grizzled old man with a beard that could hide a family of squirrels, he handed me a small bag of coins and a piece of paper. "Thank you for your aid," he said, his voice trembling. "This is all we can spare."

I took the bag, feeling the weight of their gratitude. "It's nothing," I said, trying to sound modest.

"And this," he said, handing me the paper, "is a map to the nearest town. Perhaps there, you will find more of your kind."

I unfolded the map, my eyes widening. It was a crude drawing, but it showed a path through the forest and over a mountain range to a place called 'Ironhurst'.

"Thanks," I said, feeling a mix of excitement and trepidation. "I'll be on my way then."

Lyria stepped up beside me. "I'll accompany you," she said. "We can use the extra firepower."

"But what about the village?" I asked, surprised.

"They're safe for now," she said. "The goblins won't return in such large numbers for a while. And if they do, we'll know."

"But why come with me?"

"You saved us," she said, her voice softer than I'd ever heard it. "The least I can do is make sure you don't die in the woods."

"Great," I said, trying not to sound too relieved. "So, we're like a party now?"

She smirked. "If you say so."