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Dread Sovereign: Monster Girl Harem

A handsome half-orc with a hulking body filled with perfect muscles stands carrying a great axe over one shoulder. His neon blue eyes watching the void, waiting for those that would threaten his world. Huge creatures with monstrous figures, beasts of the abyss, here to kill the orc. Their angered shrieks and pained screams filled the air. The corpses of these monsters surround his body, forming his throne of dread. His long tail smashed down, turning them into pulp while using his brutal axe with powerful chops, cleaving them into pieces. "This world shall become ours; you cannot stop our legion! Orc!" a distorted and evil voice sounded. "WATCH ME!" Shouted the orc, filled with confidence and pride. In defiance, a purple mist shrouded him as he transformed into a monster himself, with long gryphon wings and sharp horns from his head—a hulking muscular body and legs filled with thick scales and black hooves. Bang! The orc stepped forward, his heart burning with passion and desire as he bellowed with a demonic and distorted voice. "I am the Sovereign of Dread, foul Daemons. This is MY world! Return to your wasteland to rot, or DIE!" He was a manticore, the only male manticore ever to exist. He fights not for power. Not for glory! Alistair "Raven" Granbell fights only for his beloved women and because he LOVES to fight the strong and crush them under his axe Mor'vaal and prove he deserves his Dread Sovereign title. Dread Sovereign is exclusively published on Webnovel.com.

Duke_Asmodeus · Fantasia
Classificações insuficientes
250 Chs

Chapter 1: Dread Knight Second Seat

[The Chamber of Dread]

In a dark, abandoned castle with broken walls, crushed gargoyles and broken ramparts, this was the abandoned castle of Calib'Urma, the home of the Dread Lord and his knights.

The dark, musky air hung heavily in the royal meeting room, a space frozen in time as if it had been abandoned for two centuries.

A once opulent Gothic decor that adorned the walls and ceiling now bore the weight of neglect, its ornate details fading into obscurity.

Dim, flickering candlelight struggled to pierce the pervasive gloom, casting elongated shadows that danced upon the tapestries and gilded frames.

"So, you are saying that the 12th seat Knight was defeated but didn't die; instead chose to become that bastard's concubine?" The 3rd Knight." A red-haired male shouted.

Full of irritation from his defeat at the hands of the orc bastard. His right arm was torn off, and his body was full of scars.