Harem Training System: Every Girl I Train Makes Me Stronger!

Chapter 43: 43. The System Congratulates Me Because Of Something... Just Because I Get Laid?

Morning light came through gauzy curtains. William didn’t recognize, and for several seconds he lay still, running through the mental checklist that had become automatic ever since he woke up in this borrowed body. An unfamiliar ceiling, the unfamiliar smell of old books and dying firewood, and a stiffness in his back suggested he’d slept somewhere that wasn’t built for actual sleeping.

Then the previous night came back to him in pieces, and William let out a slow breath.

He hadn’t meant to stay the whole night. That much he remembered clearly.

Catherine, three glasses past sober, had grabbed his sleeve the moment he tried to leave and told him, with the kind of blunt honesty only wine produced, that she didn’t want to be alone in the house after everything that had happened at the dungeon.

William, who had spent enough of his old life pulling drunk soldiers back from bad decisions to recognize exactly what that kind of vulnerability required, had done the only sensible thing available to him.

He’d walked her to her room, made sure she was tucked in and breathing steadily, and then gone back out to the sitting room to fold himself onto a couch that was clearly built for someone shorter than he was.

He remembered the fire burning low, remembered thinking he should probably go home, and remembered deciding that leaving a drunk woman alone in a house this size after a summoning attack didn’t sit right with him, no matter how tired he was.

He must have fallen asleep somewhere in that decision.

But as the fog of sleep lifted, the "decision" he remembered—the quiet, gentlemanly act of watching over a sleeping woman—began to warp and dissolve, replaced by a much more visceral, much more violent memory. It wasn’t a quiet night of protection.

It was a night of total, unbridled carnage of the soul and the flesh.

’Wait...’ William’s eyes snapped open, staring at the ornate canopy above him. ’That’s not the couch. That’s... that’s her bed.’*

The memories hit him like a physical assault, surging back with a sensory overload that made his heart hammer against his ribs. He remembered the moment the wine-induced vulnerability had turned into a predatory, desperate hunger.

He also remembered the way her eyes had glazed over, not with sleepiness, but with a feverish, elven lust that demanded to be fed.

But there’s more to it... he remembered the sound of her gasp when he had finally lost his patience the way he had slammed her back against the mattress, the bed groaning under his massive weight.

And then he remembered the sensation of her skin, hot and slick with sweat, and the way her silver hair had felt tangled in his fingers as he leaned down to claim her mouth.

"Nnnngh! William! Don’t... don’t hold back!" her voice had echoed in his mind, a ghostly, arousing command.

He felt the phantom ache in his hips, remembering the sheer, punishing force of his thrusts. He remembered the sound of the wet, rhythmic, slapping percussion of their bodies colliding.

Slap! Squelch! Slap!

It hadn’t been a gentle union; it had been a collision of titans. He remembered the way he had bitten into the soft swell of her breast, the metallic tang of her skin on his tongue, and the way she had clawed his back, her nails digging deep enough to draw blood, leaving stinging, red crescents of ownership across his tanned skin.

"AAAAAAHHHHH! YES! HARDER! BREAK ME!" Her screams had been melodic but primal, tearing through the quiet of the manor.

Then, the memory of the leglock. He could almost feel the crushing pressure of her thighs around his waist, her elven strength squeezing him with a desperation that felt like it might snap his very bones.

She had anchored him, trapped him, refusing to let him pull away even as he reached the precipice of his own sanity.

"It’s a safe day!" she had shrieked, her voice a frantic, beautiful mess of pleasure and command. "Give it to me! All of it! Fill me, William! HAAAA!"

The memory of the climax was so intense it made his stomach flip. He remembered the feeling of being a conduit for pure, volcanic energy, the sensation of his massive cock pulsing as he unleashed a torrential, hot flood of seed deep into her core.

He remembered the way she had arched her back, her entire body vibrating with the force of the impact, her screams dissolving into breathless, sobbing moans of total surrender.

"I do hope it REALLY is her safe day yesterday... and today..."

William sat up slowly, a low, guttural groan escaping his lips as he worked a brutal crick out of his neck. Every muscle in his massive frame felt like it had been pulverized by a siege engine.

His skin felt tight and sensitized, and as he shifted, he felt the stinging pull of the dried scabs on his back, the literal scars of Catherine’s desperate, clawing passion.

His gaze drifted, almost involuntarily, toward the hallway that led to her private chambers. The door stood slightly ajar, a sliver of darkness peeking through the gap.

Through that narrow opening, he could just make out a shock of ethereal silver hair spread wildly across a pillow and a single, pale arm hanging limp off the side of the bed. She looked utterly spent, her limbs draped in the boneless, heavy way of someone who had been hollowed out by ecstasy and had slept like the dead.

’Gods... she really did go all out,’ William thought, a mixture of awe and lingering terror swirling in his gut. ’She didn’t just want a man; she wanted a god to descend and claim her.’

’And by the looks of the state of those sheets... she got exactly what she asked for.’

A sudden, sharp pang of anxiety flared in his chest. ’If she wakes up and realizes we didn’t just "share a drink"... if she realizes she’s carrying the legacy of a man who practically flooded her womb like a torrential storm...’

’I do hope it’s real... I’m going to ask for more detail about that after she wakes up.’ He shuddered, the mental image of a tiny, muscular, bald infant running around the academy making his stomach do a nervous flip.

"At least she’s not going to wake up in a strange bed wondering what happened," William muttered to himself, his voice a gravelly rasp in the quiet of the morning.

He forced himself to stand, stretching out the last of the couch’s damage to his spine. The movement sent a jolt of soreness through his hips, a vivid reminder of the rhythmic, bone-deep pounding from the night before.

"Small mercies... If she thinks it was a dream, maybe the scandal dies with the dawn."

He stood there for a moment, naked and imposing in the dim light, trying to convince his body that standing upright was, in fact, a beneficial decision and not a recipe for a dizzying collapse. He felt like a warrior returning from a battlefield, battered, bruised, and mentally exhausted.

He was midway through this internal negotiation when the very fabric of reality seemed to fracture.

The air in front of him didn’t just move; it shimmered with a violent, electric intensity. A sudden, sharp CRACK like a whip snapping in a silent cathedral echoed through the room.

A translucent, glowing screen snapped into existence with the abrupt, unapologetic energy of a divine decree. It wasn’t a gentle fade in; it was a digital assault on his vision, pulsing with a light so bright it felt like it was searing his retinas.

[CONGRATULATIONS]

The word hung there in massive, monolithic block letters, vibrating with a hum that William could feel in his very teeth. It was large enough that he actually recoiled, taking a heavy, stumbling step back, his heart leaping into his throat. He half expected a choir of celestial trumpets to blast him into the next dimension.

His mind raced, trying to categorize the sensation. ’Is this a hallucination? Is this the wine? Or is the world itself finally breaking under the weight of what happened last night?’

The sheer, unearned confidence of the message felt mocking. It felt like the universe was patting him on the back after he had just accidentally committed the most scandalous act in the history of the elven nobility.

"Okay," he said out loud, his voice sounding small and absurd in the vast, empty sitting room.

He stared at the glowing text, his eyes narrowing as the reality of his situation shifted once again. "That’s... definitely new."

"The system congratulates me for graduating...? This isn’t a new achievement thing for me."