Harem Tournament of Champions

[Welcome Host]

A monotone voice spoke.

"Host, who's a host?" the man questioned in confusion.

"Lord Hisha." says a man with a respectful tone, he is tall and got a slender body, a handsome face and almost a perfect jaw line, his nose sharp and his posture straight as a butler. He then clears his throat when he noticed that his lord was still dozing off, "ahem ahem."

"Who? Argh!" the man growled in pain that made him drop to the ground while holding his head. 'The name is right that was me but I'm not a lord' he thought with a confused tone.

'Who the hell are you referring to as Lord? I'm Hisha Fang! I work at a record store!' He protested angrily in his thoughts.

The last thing he remembered was watching several people passing by the window before he slept on his desk because of boredom.

'Lord... hmm that sounds just about right.' He held a smirk to his thoughts.

Raising his head, his attention was drawn to his hands, he was taken aback by the veins that bulged on the back of his tanned palm.

'Muscular arms?!' He freaked out which makes his eyes bulge at the sight.

Looking down at his clothing, it was far from the simple striped shirt and jeans trousers he usually wore on a good day.

Instead of a shirt, he was staring at his rock-hard abs–shirtless. A gold chain with an onyx stone hung loosely on his neck. The only piece of clothing on him was a pair of black fitted pants tucked into a high black heeled ankle boot.

Looking behind him, he saw the backrest of a golden throne, the very one this body he was in was sitting on.

'What the heck?!' Hisha screams in shock as he feel his face, and the outline of his jaw.

His eyes finally darted to the one who had called on this strange body which shared the same name as he did.

"My lord?" The same voice called on his attention in a strong air of respect and formality.

He had dark brown hair styled in a windswept manner with longer bangs that hang to the right side of his face which fades to amber brown at the ends and has a pale skin with an unusual expressionless face.

Wearing a a beige dress shirt, a brown and amber vest, slim black pants, black dress boots, and black gloves with. Most notably wearing a long, dark brown tailcoat with dragon scale patterns, gold and silver accents, golden tassels.

'A butler perhaps?' Hisha wondered, but there was something about his eyes that didn't fit right with the description.

His large red glowing eyes stared at Hisha, probably waiting for an answer to what he had said.

'Go with the flow, you dimwit!' Hisha scolded himself.

"What is it..." He paused in his speech, realizing he didn't know how to address this person.

"Kritz, my lord." He helped out.

"That's right," Hisha replied immediately. Dismissing the help Kritz had unintentionally rendered to solve one mystery.

The environment looked oddly strange, there were no cars, no tall structures spanning out as he looked out at the open sand-covered field.

'Open field? What am I doing sitting here?' Hisha tilted his head in confusion.

Instinctively, he leaned forward to have a look at what was below the high rise his chair was placed on.

"What the hell?!" Hisha did a double-take on the large crowd of females standing in the arena, all looking bashful and timid upon making eye contact with him.

'Is this some sort of beautiful dream?' Hisha's lips curved into a smile at being graced with this sight.

"Kritz, tell me, why are those beautiful women just standing idle?" Hisha leaned back on his throne, throwing his feet over the right armrest.

He noticed Kritz looking at him with brows raised and his eyes narrowed at Hisha.

"They are part of your harem waiting for your verdict, lord Hisha." He replied with a slight bow.

"Hare–!" Hisha choked on his words, springing to his feet.

"How many are they?" He questioned through gritted teeth, his eyes scanning below him, trying to count on his own while Kritz prepares to give me an estimate.

"Six thousand nine hundred and sixty-nine, my lord." Kritz cut in.

"Six thou–" Hisha swallowed hard, refusing to believe what he had just heard.

'How could this body have this much? What could they possibly want my verdict for?' Hisha's eyes darted about the numerous women.

"What verdict?" He turned his attention towards Kritz.

Yet again the same suspicious eyes were given to his question.

Raising his chin, he couldn't care less what this Kritz butler thought of his lord at this point.

Being clueless about all that went on before he had mysteriously transmigrated here and in this body would leave him wanting answers as any normal person would.

Letting out a sigh, Kritz shook his head before he attempted to answer, "the declaration you made to pick only the best out of the strong and beautiful women of the land of Kurg."

'What the heck do I need that much for?' Hisha staggered back.

"Let me guess," He chuckled slightly on account of how they all dressed in revealing combat clothes.

On second thought, he observed the open space. The field littered with weapons, destruction, and carnage did look like the Roman arenas where contests could be held.

"They are here for some tournament." He laughed at his joke.

"That is right, my lord." Kritz nodded in agreement.

"They await your verdict on the previous tournament." He continued, turning his attention towards the open field with his hands clasped behind him.