After dying a virgin, Elias Gray is given a second chance—reincarnated in a magical world with the "Lust System", a divine artifact that allows him to gain power by pleasuring women, fulfilling their desires, and growing a harem of elite lovers. From cold queens and fierce warrior women to shy beastgirls and seductive demons, Elias must dominate the world with charm, cunning—and unholy pleasure.

But pleasure comes with a price, and not all lovers are loyal. Can he rise to the top without being devoured by lust or betrayal?




Elias wandered through the bustling Travelers’ Hub, a sprawling nexus of portals and pathways where high-ranking voyagers crossed dimensions. The air hummed with the faint pulse of arcane energy, and the scent of ozone clung to the stone corridors. His boots echoed against the polished marble as he passed glowing sigils etched into the walls, each marking a gateway to another realm. He was no stranger to these halls, but tonight, a faint murmur from the inner chambers of the elite travelers piqued his curiosity. The voices were low, urgent, and laced with something primal that made his pulse quicken.

Drawn toward a shadowed alcove, Elias noticed a heavy iron door, slightly ajar, its surface engraved with runes that pulsed faintly in the dim light. A cold draft slipped through the crack, carrying a whisper of sound—a soft, rhythmic moan that stirred the air. His breath caught, curiosity warring with caution, but the pull was too strong. He nudged the door open and stepped into a chamber cloaked in near-darkness, lit only by a single flickering torch that cast long, wavering shadows across the stone walls.

In the center of the room, Lilith knelt on a plush velvet cushion, her silhouette unmistakable even in the gloom. Her dark hair cascaded over her bare shoulders, her skin glowing faintly as if kissed by moonlight. She was bent forward, her hands braced against the floor, her body arched in a way that spoke of surrender and desire. Beside her stood a man, his face marred with jagged scars that caught the torchlight, giving him a rugged, dangerous edge. His eyes burned with intensity as he gazed down at her, his presence commanding the room.

The air grew thick as the man’s hand moved, deliberate and unhurried. He spat into his palm, the sound sharp in the quiet, and slid his fingers along Lilith’s exposed skin, tracing the curve of her thigh before slipping between her legs. A low, shuddering moan escaped her lips, her body trembling as she parted her thighs wider, inviting more. The man’s fingers worked with a slow, teasing rhythm, coaxing gasps from her that echoed softly off the stone walls. Her breaths grew ragged, her hips rocking against his hand, and then—a sharp cry as her body convulsed, a glistening rush of release spilling onto the floor beneath her.

The man let out a deep, guttural groan, his own arousal evident in the tightening of his jaw. He shifted, freeing himself from his trousers, his erection thick and heavy in the flickering light. He pressed himself against her, sliding into her with a slow, deliberate thrust that drew a long, throaty moan from Lilith. Her fingers curled against the floor, nails scraping the stone as he moved, each thrust deep and measured, the sound of their bodies meeting filling the chamber. In and out, a steady rhythm that built with intensity, her gasps rising in pitch.

Lilith’s eyes fluttered, her body quivering with pleasure as she pushed back against him, meeting each thrust with a hunger of her own. When he paused, drawing back slightly, she reached for him, her hand guiding him back inside with a desperate urgency. Her moans grew louder, unrestrained, as she surrendered fully to the sensation, her body trembling under the weight of her desire. The room seemed to pulse with their shared rhythm, the air heavy with the scent of sweat and heat, the torchlight casting their entwined shadows across the walls like a forbidden dance.


R18 content

It was the sound of reality fracturing.


The sky above the tower split open—not like glass this time, but like a wound torn across space. Out of the bleeding rift came a single figure, drifting downward like a fallen seraph.


Tall. Beautiful. Wrapped in threads of pure white.


[Type: Former Host – Rewritten by Thrones]


Elias stood at the base of the tower with his team assembled—Lilith, Aya, Echo, Serai, Velhira, Xara, and the other bonded.


But when he saw the face of the Herald… his breath caught.


Blue eyes. Silver hair. A mark on his neck—one Elias had carved himself long ago.


Mira confirmed from the control deck. "That's Rael."


Chapter 46 - Chapter 46