Harem Sync: Divine Edition-Chapter 4: Death No. 379

The afternoon sun beat down on Valtherion Manor. Haru stood shirtless in the stable, his skin glistening with sweat.

He threw a punch into the air with all his might. Then another. And another.

"Between deaths one to twenty..." he muttered, without stopping his punching. "Pure panic."

His face was focused. Serious.

"The steel would enter, and my consciousness would fade before I felt the pain. I was a lizard being crushed by a boot."

He threw another punch into the air, very focused. The movement cut through the wind with a sharp sound.

"Death thirty-seven. I discovered that it appears when the horse lets out a nickering sound..."

Haru spun his body and delivered a side kick. His leg stretched out completely, his foot cutting through the air at a man’s chest.

"Death forty-two. The steel entered through the back of the neck."

Another kick.

"Death sixty-seven. The blade pierced the sternum."

Another punch. Then two in a row. Fast.

"Death one hundred and three..." He paused for a second, panting. "I finally saw the color of his eyes. And the blade."

Haru gave a crooked smile.

"And I understood that he is my XP farming machine."

He threw several punches in a row, alternating between right and left. Then he followed up with a spinning kick.

"Huff!... Huff!"

He stopped again, breathing deeply. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with his forearm.

"One hundred to one hundred and fifty deaths. I tried everything. Throwing buckets, hiding under straw, using a pitchfork as a spear."

He shook his head, chuckling softly.

"He killed me with his own pitchfork on death two hundred and twelve. Too efficient."

He kicked the air again. Then another. His breathing was rapid.

"But in death two hundred and eighty, I managed to tear the sleeve of his tunic. And face him longer..."

Haru punched the air in anger. Once. Twice. Three times. Four times.

"Deaths three hundred and one to three hundred and seventy-eight..."

His voice grew lower. Heavier.

"A year of agony and a few more days. I no longer scream when I wake up with the bucket of water. I no longer tremble."

He stopped punching. He stood still, hands on his knees, breathing deeply.

"I turned my death into a laboratory."

He raised his head. His eyes were shining.

"I can dodge all his attacks. In death three hundred and seventeen, I started to fight back. It became a fight between equals."

Haru smiled broadly, exhausted.

"Even in death three hundred and twenty-five to three hundred and forty... when I started to hit him hard... he started using mana."

He stopped kicking. The anger was still on his face, but there was something else too. Determination.

He walked over to a bucket of water that was standing nearby, leaning against the wall. He picked up the bucket with both hands and poured it all over himself.

The cold water ran down his head, his bare chest, his back. It soaked his linen pants. He didn’t even bother to take his clothes off first.

He stood there, dripping, his breathing still rapid. The water ran off, and Haru continued to stare into space, that crooked smile on his face.

"Mana, mana, mana, mana!..."

Haru repeated the word several times, looking at his own wet hands.

"It’s the only thing I don’t have."

The water that had fallen from the bucket spread across the floor around him. It formed a temporary clear puddle, almost like a mirror. Haru looked down and saw his own reflection flickering on the surface of the water.

The same face of a seventeen-year-old teenager, black hair. But the look... the look had changed. His eyes, once a common, lifeless brown, had changed. The obsessive repetition of death had washed the color from his irises, leaving them a Calcium Gray (or Static Gray). It was no longer the tired, empty gaze of a hopeless slave. It was steady. Focused. There was something dangerous there.

He stopped. He frowned, looking at his own body.

"It’s true... my body has changed since the last death I paid attention to it."

Haru raised an arm. He flexed it. His biceps rose, defined and hard. He ran his hand over his abdomen. He touched his defined muscles. Defined abs, separated into visible blocks. He looked at his chest. Broad shoulders. Firm, muscular legs under his wet pants. He was complete. Athletic. Strong.

"It seems that when I level up... my body also gets an upgrade."

He closed his eyes and called up the system. The translucent screen appeared in front of him. "The system says it’s necessary. It kind of serves to live up to the status I carry now..."

Haru opened the status tab.

He looked at the numbers.

┌───►SYSTEM◄───┐

[STATUS WINDOW]

├────

◊ Name: Haru Mizuki.

◊ Race: Human (Cursed)

◊ Rank: Veteran 3

◊ Class: ???

◊ Title: None

◊ XP: 450 / 1.000 [LVL: 6]

└───────── ────♦

┌─ [STATUS WINDOW]

◊ Strength: 5

◊ Agility: 7

◊ Stamina: 4

◊ Intelligence: 10

◊ Luck: 2

◊ Mana: 0/1200

└─────────────────────♦

Haru heard the sound of hooves approaching; his sacred hour had arrived.

He looked out at the courtyard, where Isabela always appeared coming from the training field.

"In death three hundred and thirty-three, I understood that I will need mana... If I want that, I will have to touch Isabela, who always passes by here."

He ran his hand through his wet hair, pushing the strands away from his forehead.

"She has the purest quality in this area. So I came up with a plan..."

He let out a long sigh. He picked up the linen shirt that was lying on the floor next to the empty bucket. He put it on, still wet. He buttoned the three buttons that remained on that shirt.

"And today... day three hundred and seventy-eight... I’m going to do it."

He waited a little longer. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed. He took a deep breath.

Then he heard her voice. Isabela was riding her horse across the courtyard, arguing with Cedrick about the instructor, as usual.

"The problem isn’t range," he said firmly. "It’s speed, ma’am."

He used the knowledge he had accumulated from the deaths. Things the killer had said. Things he had heard in conversations among horsemen. Things that made sense.

Isabela stopped. She looked him up and down with disdain. Her face was red from training, sweaty. She rolled her eyes and continued talking, ignoring him completely.

But Haru didn’t give up.

"If you focus on reducing the channeling time instead of increasing the arc of the movement, the ignition will happen faster," he continued. "Fire doesn’t need space. It needs concentration on a single point."

Isabela stopped again. She turned her head toward him, irritated.

"And who said I want to hear a slave talk about magic?" she said, her voice full of contempt.

Haru didn’t back down.

"You said the instructor complains about the wide movements. But he’s right. The greater the movement, the more time the enemy has to react. You lose speed trying to gain power."

Isabela frowned. She didn’t answer right away.

Cedrick looked at her. Then he looked at that damp slave, now wearing a soaked and torn shirt.

"Madam..." Cedrick began, uncertain.

But Isabela raised her hand, silencing him.

She stared at Haru. Her eyes sparkled, not with anger, but with irritated curiosity.

"And how do you, a stable slave, know anything about magical combat?" she asked, crossing her arms.

Haru smiled slightly.

"Experience," he said simply.

Isabela used the experience she had alive. Training, instructors, noble theory.

Haru used the experience he had dead. Three hundred and seventy-eight deaths. Three hundred and seventy-eight observations. Three hundred and seventy-eight iterations of combat data recorded in his memory.

"Tsk." Isabela clicked her tongue, looking at Haru with irritation. "You’re getting too cocky, aren’t you?"

Cedrick took a step forward.

"It’s not necessary, my lady. I can punish him myself..."

"Shut up, Cedrick," Isabela cut him off, without taking her eyes off Haru.

She dismounted her horse in one swift motion. She walked straight up to him, her firm footsteps echoing on the stone floor. She raised her hand and tried to slap him across the face.

Haru tilted his head to the side. Her hand passed through the air, missing its target.

"See?" he said with a provocative smile. "Speed, my lady."

Isabela’s eyes widened with anger. She pulled the short sword she carried at her waist and attacked.

Haru leaned his body to the side. The blade grazed his shoulder. Isabela kicked sideways. Haru defended with his forearm, blocking the impact.

She attacked again. And again. And again.

Haru stood there, dodging. Dodging. Blocking. He didn’t fight back. He just moved.

Cedrick watched, open-mouthed.

"But how!?" he muttered, incredulous. "After all... isn’t he a manure cleaner?"

Isabela attacked faster and faster. More and more furious. Her face was red, not only from exhaustion, but from pure rage.

As he dodged, Haru thought.

"There is a point. A vital point where instinct and life accumulate. The baby needs it to survive and suck milk. I need it to pump milk..."

He smiled slyly. "If you want, you can use mana," he taunted, knowing exactly what he was doing.

If he disdained her like that, she wouldn’t use mana. It was his weak point. She would want to prove she could do it without it... That’s what he thought. But he was wrong.

"You idiot!" Isabela shouted, furious. "You’ll see!"

She clenched her fist. A hot, bright energy enveloped her hand.

She punched Haru in the stomach with full force. Haru didn’t even have time to dodge. The speed was different. She had used mana, and the punch hit him squarely.

But he didn’t retreat. Before the impact threw his body backward, Haru leaned forward and placed both hands on Isabela’s chest.

[Touch of the Goddess]: ACTIVATED

One second.

Two seconds.

Three seconds.

"You son of a bitch!" Isabela shouted.

She punched him in the face with all her strength, still using mana.

The impact threw Haru backwards. His body flew through the air and fell into the stable, hitting the ground hard, unconscious with his hard cock lifting his wet pants.

Isabela stormed out, breathing heavily, her fists still clenched.

"My father will punish this shitty slave before expelling or executing him!" she said, walking toward the mansion without looking back.

Cedrick took Maximus to the stable. He put the horse in the stall and left quickly.

Before leaving, he stopped beside Haru’s unconscious body.

He saw his erect penis, visible through his pants.

He spat on him.

Then he left, slamming the stable door shut....

Haru woke up at night.

His face hurt. So did his abdomen, where Isabela’s punch had landed.

He lay there for a moment, blinking slowly. The oil lamp had already gone out. There was only the faint light of the moon coming through the cracks in the wood.

He raised his right hand in front of his face. The hand that had touched Isabela’s chest with more force. He smelled it, licked his palm, then spread his hand across his own face, rubbing it.

"Hahahahahaha... hehehehehehe..."

The laughter came out low, maniacal, echoing in the empty stable, his cock hard, marking his wet pants.

"Fuck, I’d jerk off right now..." he muttered, looking down. "But I have a master to face."

Haru got up slowly. He took off his shirt and threw it on the floor. He shrugged his shoulders, releasing the tension in his muscles, closed his eyes, and called up the status tab. And there it was.

┌─ [STATUS WINDOW]

◊ Strength: 5

◊ Agility: 7

◊ Stamina: 4

◊ Intelligence: 10

◊ Luck: 2

◊ Mana: 200/1200

└─────────────────────♦

He smiled broadly.

Then he sensed something different in the air, a presence. Heavy. Threatening.

"So... once someone has mana, they can sense others who have mana," he thought aloud, realizing for the first time a difference he had never felt before.

The sensation was clear. As if something was pulsing in the air around him.

Haru turned his head toward the stable door.

"Show yourself once and for all!" he shouted, his voice firm and controlled. "This time you will die!"

The door opened, and the being entered. This time, without hiding. Without using its usual absurd speed. Without appearing from behind.

It entered calmly from the front and stopped in front of Haru.

He was a man of average height, wearing a dark tunic with a hood thrown back. His face was thin, with cold, expressionless eyes. In his right hand, he held a curved sword, its blade glinting faintly in the moonlight.

He pointed the sword directly at Haru.

Haru clenched his fists. The muscles in his arms tensed. His chest rose and fell with controlled breaths.

He smiled.

"Let’s do this, sensei!"