Dungeon Overlord: Monster Girl Harem!

"Again?" He asked, seeing the bottle of wine, though the colour and scent seemed different.

The delicious scent of her body reached his nose before her voice reached his ears. A silky sweet flavour touched with peach and honey.

Her figure swayed through the shadows, with two glasses in one hand, once again, she came to meet him at the edge of night.

"You've been working too hard since we returned."

"I thought you would need one," she said.

"Well... I didn't say I needed one. But I need you."

"Wha?" Zafira's hands trembled, almost dropping the wine, as she turned bright red.

Able to tease a succubus like her made Leonhardt's day.

"You..." Zafira's hips sat on his desk with a soft slap, squishing her cheeks over the documents he had been working on for the past few hours. "Is everything alright, my king? Is the weight of everything not too heavy to carry alone?"

Leonhardt tilted his head.

"Heavy? I've barely accepted the throne."

"Mm." Zafira popped the cork with one smooth motion, filled the glasses, and handed him one. The liquid swirled—light purple and honey-gold, thick like syrup. The scent of fermented dungeon fruit and bitter elven citrus filled the air.

She took a sip from hers. Then leaned down, lips near his ear.

"You did well today. They don't just follow you anymore." Her voice dropped, sultry and intimate. "They believe in you."

Leonhardt stared at the glass for a moment, then raised it.

Clink.

Their glasses touched.

"What about you?" he asked, gulping down the wine.

Zafira smiled.

"Hm… in this moment?" She took another slow sip, eyes never leaving his. "You."

—

Leonhardt woke up feeling a sense of hot, cold and comfort... with the scents of three women lingering on his body and bedding. Though now they were gone, and he was alone in the cool room.

"Ugh... I can't remember much after drinking."

(You got drunk and enjoyed deepening your relationship with three women.)

[Perverted idiot...]

"Shut it." He snapped back and then snapped his fingers.

The moment Leonhardt vanished from his throne, the air around the seat fell still—no ripple, no sound, no trace of movement. He didn't need portals anymore. Not when he was the master of so many.

He reappeared at the highest ledge of the Munat Mountains, jagged black stone jutting into cold, mist-drenched skies. Thin clouds crawled around the crags like sluggish beasts. Below, in the deep chasms and frostbitten slopes, his influence pulsed unseen—dungeon veins, spreading like roots beneath the earth.

The system chimed gently in his mind.

[You have entered an unnamed extension of your Dungeon Domain.]

[Would you like to name this sub-territory?]

He stared out at the sharp cliffs, the web-wrapped stone bridges, and the eerie, glistening towers nestled into the sides of the mountain like wasp hives.

"Silken Hollow," he said aloud.

[Sub-dungeon 'Silken Hollow' established.]

[Linking to central resource network… Complete.]

It was always cold here. The type of cold that didn't bite—it slithered. A thin, clinging chill that wrapped around your joints and refused to let go.

He stepped down the crumbling path that wound between mountain peaks, and almost immediately, the spiders noticed.

Pale, silk-threaded figures stirred in the cliffs—women with spider legs for lower halves, dressed in semi-transparent silken robes, watching him from shadows with dozens of eyes. Their claws never clicked. They moved without a sound. Some crawled along the walls, others descended from above on glowing web strands, hair cascading like mist, voices whispering in dry harmony.

"Master…""You've returned…""Will you bless us with your warmth tonight…?"

He ignored them. No... he turned to them and waved.

Since Lina and the goblins appeared, Leonhardt needed to appeal to all races.

The Arachne were dangerous, but loyal as long as they fed. As long as he gave them a purpose.

They parted for him as he reached the mouth of the main den, a spiralling sinkhole draped in iridescent silk. It pulsed faintly. And from within emerged the largest of them—Thalisa. She slithered down on six thick black limbs, her upper body smooth and feminine, skin pale as moonlight, eyes gleaming with violet hunger.

Her voice was smoke. "You didn't answer my last message. Did I displease you?"

Leonhardt met her eyes. "You're still alive, aren't you?"

Her lip curled, amused. "You wound me."

The natural power of seduction that Arachne carried overwhelmed the opposite sex, so like these female spiders made Leonhardt's pulse race and his chest thump against his ribs. His appearance and scent also drove them crazy.

She leaned forward, brushing close—her scent a strange mix of dry spice, vanilla and cave moss. Her hand drifted near Leonhardt's chest.

He caught it gently.

"You don't need to seduce me, Thalisa."

"I want to."

"You want power."

He released her hand, then opened his interface. A red glyph spun into existence, lines crossing through her name.

[Do you wish to evolve: Thalisa → Arachne Matriarch?][Cost: 4,800 DP, 1,000 EP – Localised sub-rune spawn permissions required][Confirm?]

Leonhardt pressed [Yes].

The moment he did, the mountain trembled.

Thalisa screamed—then laughed. Her body twisted in midair, the silk around her snapping outward in dozens of lines. Her lower half swelled, taking on an obsidian sheen; her spinnerets ignited in violet flame, and a glowing crest of crystal thorns bloomed atop her head like a crown.

From every weblike in the den, the other Arachne shrieked in euphoria.

She rose, newly changed, voice echoing.

"You've made me a queen."

Leonhardt just turned away.

"You're a Matriarch. Don't get delusions."

"I won't give up, darling."

He watched her and couldn't help but find her figure alluring, but became irritated when she noticed, her eight glimmering ruby eyes watching him as he stepped away.

"Thalisa, if you do well... I will consider it."

"What must I do!?" Her voice was desperate and, for some reason, cute.

Leonhardt realised he was just like Thalisa. He couldn't hold her actions against her anymore, and instead told her to conquer the mountains, crush the monsters in the forest and spread her influence across the east.

Thanks to becoming a Matriarch, she could collect a portion of the points gained from slaying monsters and humans in the area and use them to replenish and summon new Arachne and lesser spiders to help complete his task.

—

"I can still feel her eyes on my back..."

Leonhardt stood on the edge of the Arachne Den's highest arch, wind tugging at his coat. Below him, the jagged ridges of the Munat Mountains sprawled like the broken spine of some ancient creature, bones half-buried in mist and time.

Behind him, Thalisa's new nest pulsed with bioluminescent silk and chittering life. Already, the den was growing stronger—its trap-threads now laced with paralytic venom, illusion webs stretching along narrow passes, and silent patrols forming under the Matriarch's new influence.

It was enough for now.

He crouched low, eyes narrowing at a distant crag.

Then leapt.

A thick thread of silk shot from his palm, anchoring into the cliffs. He swung through the mist like a pendulum, coat flaring behind him. With each swing, he spun new lines—threading the air itself. The mountains became his web. His playground.

A glide here. A twist there. A wall across a mossy overhang. A flip off a spire. No pressure. No voices. No court. No 10 hours of training and killing spawned monsters. Just instinct and motion.

He smiled for the first time in a few days.

His body flung across the mountains, twisting and turning over the treetops while yelling at the top of his lungs, floating through the air as his body danced through the dimming evening sky.

He noticed the village of Munat out of the corner of his eyes and decided to visit the outskirts, wondering how far the Arachne pushed them.

The small village looked empty, filled with the stench of medicine and ammonia even from a dozen metres away. The small fields ruined and overturned, the gravesite now looked horrible, like a mass grave. The old bell tower collapsed, with clear damage to the inn where he stayed with the girls.

He crouched on a tall pine tree's branch, watching the ruins.

Leonhardt noticed tattered banners that fluttered in the wind, emaciated and exhausted villagers that sat on stone steps, gathered together eating from a large cauldron of soup, or maybe porridge.

Some carried rusted weapons.

"They're not dead," he nodded, feeling respect for their resilience.

Not yet.

But the smell of desperation was too thick to ignore. Mixed into it was something else.

So they're here already.

He tapped his fingers against the branch. Part curiosity, part reconnaissance. He hadn't come to interfere—only observe.

Then he heard it.

A faint shimmer. The subtle crackle of light magic activating.

Leonhardt's gaze snapped toward the trees.

Something was moving. Fast.

He flipped off the tree, silk lashing out behind him, anchoring to another trunk as he swung into the forest shadows, just as a flare of gold light exploded behind him like a star igniting in the mist.

A voice rang out behind him—stern, male, echoing with divine resonance.

"Stop running, monster!"

Leonhardt's smile returned, sharp and cold.

He didn't stop.

Who would stop when asked?