Dungeon Overlord: Monster Girl Harem!

The throne room was quiet when the crystal ignited.

A low hum filled the chamber as Zafira stood at Leonhardt's side, arms folded beneath her chest, her golden eyes narrowed with quiet focus. Runes carved into the black marble flared as the communication glyph activated, bathing the floor in a soft amethyst glow.

In the air above the throne's platform, a flickering image formed, warped slightly by distortion.

Gobbolas appeared.

The goblin stood against a beautiful dark pine, and trees and misty undergrowth. His cloak flapped in the wind as one side of his hood was damp with what might have been blood.

"My Lord," Gobbolas said, voice hushed but clear. "Reporting from the western frontier. Something's… wrong."

Leonhardt leaned forward on one elbow. "Define 'wrong.'"

"We lost a scout team. Not to monsters." The goblin's yellow eyes flicked to something offscreen. "No signs of beast attacks. No claw marks. No burns. Just gone. And the trail they left behind? It was covered deliberately."

"Humans?" Zafira asked coldly.

Gobbolas nodded once. "Worse. They don't smell right. Me and the twins caught their trail two nights ago. Not like mercs or bandits. They were too clean."

"Clean?" Leonhardt repeated, brows twitching slightly.

Gobbolas hesitated. "They stank."

Leonhardt arched a brow.

That's when Griv's figure appeared from the entrance, his body wearing a dull black cloak covered in flecks of dirt. "Of holy magic, Sire."

The words lingered like smoke.

Zafira's hands twitched.

Leonhardt briefly eyed his butler and nodded while noticing Zafira's reaction.

Gobbolas continued. "Whatever they are, they move fast. They passed through two watch perches without a sound. Didn't disturb the birds. Didn't trip the lines. They only left one thing behind—"

He turned briefly. Something was passed into his hands. A charred piece of cloth, wrapped around a small stone vial.

He held it up. The cloth looked like it once bore a crest, but the ink was burned away. The vial was empty, but its inner walls glowed faintly with divine residue. Faint enough that even through the projection, Leonhardt could feel the sting against his senses.

"A purification vial," Zafira muttered. "They were cleansing something."

"Or someone," Gobbolas added. "They were moving in the direction of Arlet."

Leonhardt didn't speak.

He simply rose from the throne, descended the steps with one hand on the edge of his mantle. The air grew still.

"Keep watching them," he said finally. "Don't engage."

"Yes, my King."

Gobbolas gave a curt salute, then the image blinked out.

A low silence settled between Leonhardt and Zafira.

She stepped closer.

"They're not after you."

"No," Leonhardt murmured, eyes glowing faintly. "They're chasing a ghost I buried."

He turned toward the chamber door.

"Summon the council."

—

The moment the chamber doors opened, the goblins entered in perfect order.

Lina walked at the front, shoulders square, ceremonial mantle draped across her dark sun-touched skin. The other ministers followed: Snaggle in his tailored vest, already fiddling with a scroll; Hanz dragging a crate full of enchanted ore; Mossi barefoot, dirt still clinging to her legs; Nebi balancing a stack of books taller than her head.

All of them took formation in a half-circle before the throne.

Leonhardt stood before them, not seated. His posture told them everything: this wasn't a ceremony.

"Goblins," he said. "We have intruders."

Murmurs started. Lina's eyes narrowed. Hanz cracked his knuckles. Snaggle groaned, half-satchel of coins spilling out of his sleeve.

"Unknown faction," Leonhardt continued. "Humans. Clean. Fast. Covered in holy residue. We believe they're from the west, operating near Arlet."

He turned his gaze toward Mossi.

"You said the earth tasted wrong last week. Explain."

The green-haired goblin stepped forward and bowed, eyes glowing softly.

"The forest soil near the outer boundary has become sterile. Something is leeching the mana from the root systems. The trees no longer bloom, and even my dry herbs refuse to germinate. The land's spirit is… wary."

Leonhardt frowned.

"Can you restore it?"

Mossi nodded. "With time. And a team."

He nodded in turn. "Choose six. Coordinate with Snaggle for supply flow."

"Understood, Master."

Leonhardt turned next to Lina.

"Political response."

She was already flipping through a notepad.

"We'll need a distraction. A public development—something flashy, but not too threatening. I suggest a 'merchant road' between the Goblin Outpost and Arlet. We push the narrative that trade's opening. It draws more humans in… and muddies the real scent."

Leonhardt gave a faint nod. "Approved. Choose someone discreet to speak with the guild."

"Griv volunteered, Master. And he's surprisingly charming when he isn't muttering about poisoned tea."

From the side chamber, a faint pulse of dark mana rippled—and the scent of damp night air filled the room.

Nyxara appeared in a wisp of shadow, kneeling low beside the throne without being summoned audibly.

"You called, my King?"

Leonhardt turned his head slightly.

"Humans have been spotted in the west. I want to know if your village was touched."

Nyxara's lips curled faintly. "None of my scouts reported intrusions, but I will confirm myself. If they so much as breathed on my trees, I'll leave their bones in the roots."

Her emerald eyes shimmered with that same violent loyalty.

No... that look wasn't loyalty alone. Glee, delight... and obsession.

"No, do not take any actions that would reveal yourselves... I need to visit the west, and start preparing for the orc hunt too."

Leonhardt took a moment, watching her expectant eyes, "okay... focus on building your defences, speak with Hanz and see if he will lend you a hand."

"Yes master! I will report before dusk."

"Also..."

Nyxara vanished before he finished the sentence.

Lina waited a moment before speaking again.

"Master… do you want me to escalate? Spread rumours of a dangerous sect?"

Leonhardt paused.

Then smiled.

"Not yet. Let them hunt ghosts."

—

POV Shift – Erina & Dia | Location: Arlet Village

The chapel at Arlet was always cold in the morning.

Its stone walls held the night's chill like a stubborn priest clinging to doctrine. Candles flickered low—only a few remained, burning for names long forgotten. A hint of incense remained in the crisp morning air.

Erina stood before the altar, hands folded, lips barely moving in prayer.

She no longer prayed to the goddess.

Not truly.

But old habits didn't vanish overnight—and this place still held the shape of her faith. It gave the villagers comfort. And that comfort gave her control.

Behind her, soft footsteps approached.

But old habits didn't vanish overnight—and this place still held the shape of her faith. It gave the villagers comfort. And that comfort gave her control.

Behind her, soft footsteps approached.

"Miss Erina."

She turned slightly, her expression composed—too composed.

Dia stood at the chapel's entrance, dressed in her false garb: peasant dress, a hood pulled low, golden-blonde hair hidden beneath a scarf. Her bright blue eyes were calm as still water. Too calm.

"Something wrong?" Erina asked.

Dia paused, as if parsing the question.

Then spoke in that polite, pleasant tone she used for the village children.

"I saw three men enter from the western path early this morning. Cloaked. Silent. Their boots were clean, but their steps were too careful."

Erina's lips thinned. "Humans?"

"Yes."

"Priests?"

"No," Dia said softly. "But they smelled… like temple halls. Dust and salt and cleansing ash and blood."

That chilled Erina more than she wanted to admit.

She stepped down from the altar and moved toward the front pew. "Where are they now?"

Dia hesitated again. "I led them toward the southern orchards. I said you were last seen collecting herbs there."

Erina stopped. "You... misled them?"

Dia smiled.

A strange smile.

"I only serve one Master."

Something dark flickered behind her calm gaze. And yet—it wasn't malice. It was devotion.

Unshakable. Absolute.

Erina felt a familiar cold creep up her spine. Not from Dia. But from the truth behind those words.

From him.

She crossed her arms. "Dia… why did you really help me?"

Dia blinked.

Then tilted her head with the soft innocence of a doll.

"Because he asked me to protect you."

However, the he in Erina's mind and the he in Dia's were completely different.

The chapel went silent again.

Outside, a bell rang faintly in the wind.

"Then what do we do now?" Erina asked, voice quieter than before.

Dia turned toward the doors.

Her hand reached into her pocket and held up a thin, tarnished pendant. The frame cracked. It was Erina's. Found half-buried in the dirt just outside the chapel wall, but the gemstone was a barrier stone, and the stone had shattered

"I think," Dia said, eyes flashing, "we're being watched."