CHAPTER 123: EVICTION!

So she said goodbye to the others. A few hugs. A few warm nods. No drama. No scenes. Just calm goodbyes.

When it came to Rae, she didn’t say much. Just gave him a small smile. Nothing extra. Just a look. Just enough to make him wonder.

Then she rode off on her horse. Steady pace. Wind in her hair. No looking back.

Rae watched her go, arms crossed, standing in the same spot for a while even after she disappeared beyond the trees.

He had this gut feeling.

A sharp little voice in his head telling him she wasn’t just leaving to see her kid. There was more to it.

A bruise on her pride maybe. A little jealousy. A little heartbreak.

Yeah, she was hurt. She had to be. That smile wasn’t her usual one. It didn’t reach her eyes.

But Rae wasn’t too worried. He was confident. Too confident maybe.

’It’s alright. She just needs some time. I can tame her again. She’ll come back. They always come back.’

He believed it.

He was sure of it.

Because Rae didn’t see himself as some ordinary man. He wasn’t the type to stick to one woman and live a quiet, simple life.

Not here.

Not in this wild new world full of magic, monsters, and endless chances.

He wanted more.

A lot more.

Harem. Women. Many of them.

Soft ones. Strong ones. Shy ones. Bold ones.

He wanted it all.

And being tied down to just one woman—that was never the dream.

That was a prison.

And Rae had no plans of locking himself up.

Rae was sure of one thing.

If you lined up a hundred men, gave them a serious look, and asked them if they wanted just one loyal woman or a whole parade of beautiful women who adored them, served them, loved them, and moaned their name like a prayer every night, ninety-seven of them would pick the second choice.

The other three would probably be lying. Or whipped. Or saints. Or dead inside.

To Rae, this wasn’t even about morals or romance. It was biology. Instinct.

The ancient itch in a man’s bones that whispered—more. Always more. More women. More power. More everything.

Having many women wasn’t just about lust.

It was proof. Proof that you were strong. That you were desirable. That you were above the rest.

A man with ten women was always more respected than the one with just one.

That’s how Rae saw it.

But did that mean he didn’t love Alice?

Love. That word made him pause.

Love was a strong word. A dangerous word. Rae preferred "like." It was easier. Simpler. Didn’t come with chains.

He liked Alice. A lot. Enough to keep her. Enough to want her near. Enough to want her happy.

She was his first woman in this world. His first victory.

His first real taste of what this new life could offer.

He had wanted her, and he had gotten her. That was the game. That was the thrill.

But now that he had won, what came next?

Now came the part where he held on.

Now came the part where he claimed her in every way. Where he made sure she stayed his.

She was his woman now. That meant something.

He wanted to protect her. Provide for her. Give her everything she asked for.

Not just to make her smile—but to make her love him back. To make her feel what he wanted her to feel. That he was her everything.

He pressed a hand to his chest. His heartbeat was pounding faster than before. Wild. Uneasy.

It felt strange.

Uncomfortable.

He didn’t know why, but something about Alice riding off like that left a bad taste in his mouth. Something cold and hollow stirred deep in his gut.

He didn’t like it.

He clenched his jaw.

No. He would not let her go.

She would be his. Not just in bed. Not just in the body. But in the heart. In the soul. In the mind.

He would make sure of it.

She would be his.

Completely.

...

After Alice had gone, Bryce finally snapped.

He stood at the entrance of his precious tent, arms crossed, face scrunched like he had just smelled something rotten.

And honestly, he had.

"Out. All of you. Out of my damn tent."

The three freeloaders blinked at him—Alex, and the two goblins who had somehow made themselves at home like they were paying rent.

Bryce wasn’t having it.

"I built this thing because I can’t even sleep next to my wife anymore, and you bastards come in and turn it into a damn hostel."

He jabbed a finger at each of them like a furious landlord.

"You. And you. And especially you—get out."

His anger wasn’t just aimed at Alex. It was for both sets of goblins—his and Lyra’s—and honestly, the whole circus.

With a huff, he kicked all three of them out and reclaimed his peace.

Alex just scratched his head.

"Well, guess that’s that."

He turned to the goblins.

"You two can crash with me in my old tent. No worries. It’s cozy. Kind of."

"But sir..."

"No problem, Grumpy. I’m good."

So the goblins followed Alex, happy to have a roof—even if it smelled like his socks.

But of course, when one person is happy, someone else ends up pissed.

"Tsk."

From the shadows of the camp, Rae clicked his tongue hard enough to echo.

He stared at his tent—or what used to be his tent. The sacred bedroom. The battlefield of moans. The temple of thighs.

Now?

It looked like a second-hand motel run by broke adventurers and stinking goblins.

He folded his arms, scowling.

The tent where he once conquered Alice was now hosting Grumpy and the boys like some budget Airbnb.

He didn’t say a word.

But he was grumpy.

Very grumpy.

Grumpy enough to kick Grumpy out himself.

Any more uninvited guests, and Rae was going to declare war.

"Make sure you get as comfortable as you can, okay guys. This is my tent, and I want you all to feel right at home."

Alex said it with a smile.

And a side-eye.

Rae didn’t miss it. He was standing by the wall like an abandoned houseplant, arms crossed, eyes narrowed. His once-glorious love shack was now a community hostel.

Grumpy bowed politely.

"Thank you, sir."

He unrolled his bedroll into a neat corner like he was checking into a goblin resort.

"Come in, join us, Rae. This tent’s bigger than my master’s!"

Said Thunder—the traitor—while flopping face-first into his corner like he owned the place.

The traitor’s master was Bryce.

Rae just stared, lips twitching in pure disgust.

It was bigger, actually. Annoyingly so.

Back when the heroes had built their tents, each one did it in their own weird little style.

Bryce made his like a solo cave—tight, warm, barely enough space to roll over. Like he was nesting.

Alex?

Alex had built his tent with Alice in mind. Comfort, space, airflow, room to stretch—not to mention fluffier blankets and maybe even incense Rae didn’t want to admit smelled good.

And now?

That same comfort was being shared with goblins. On his old battlefield.

Rae clenched his jaw.

He could already feel the memory of Alice’s thighs fading from the sheets.

Celeste’s tent was, without a doubt, the most luxurious one among all.

You didn’t even need to step inside to know that someone fancy lived there. Just one glance from the outside and it screamed class.

The fabric shimmered in the light, the threads looked hand-stitched by blind elves or something, and the decorations made it feel like it belonged to a noble rather than a travelling priestess.

And the inside? It was another level of ridiculous. You could not even call it a tent with a straight face.

The moment someone stepped in, they would probably wonder if they accidentally walked into a royal guest room.

There were plush cushions, clean carpets, incense sticks giving out a soft perfume, and even a mirror stand like she was planning to host noble guests every night.

It was way too clean, too perfect, and way too out of place compared to the rest of the camp.

Now on the complete opposite end of the spectrum was Adrian’s disaster zone. His tent wasn’t even a real tent.

It was just a giant cloth stretched between two old poles that looked like they would snap in the next wind. Inside, it was chaos.

Books were scattered like a hurricane had passed through.

Some pages were half-burnt, some were soaking wet for no reason, and some had mysterious stains no one dared to investigate.

And then came the smell.

It was foul. It was violent. It was the kind of smell that made people think dark thoughts.

If someone bottled it, it could be used as a weapon of mass destruction.

Rumor had it that Adrian’s tent had absorbed the scent of a thousand forbidden items, including what might have been a century-old sock used for unspeakable purposes.

And with no ventilation and no sense of shame, it had turned into a poisonous den that even goblins refused to visit.

Back in Alex’s tent, the mood was much lighter.

"Don’t sweat yourself, Thunder. Rae’s just not cool like us. He doesn’t get the whole chill vibe we have going on."