Primordial Harem System - Chapter 391: Solar Reaper Legion

The most unlike Slytherin.

There is a saying in the Slytherin common room, “The little wizard who disobeys will be eaten by the Night Stalker.”

He is the master of the stars that shines at Hogwarts, the Night Stalker who is feared by his enemies.

The glory made him the pride of Slytherin.

When the Dark Lord arrived, he said those words,

“Weapons, I need a lot of weapons.”

With a staff in his left hand and a sword in his right hand, everyone would shout for him: “Damn the Sorting Hat, is this Slytherin?”

When the stars return to Hogwarts, John Wick’s light will shine on the entire wizarding world.

- Description from novelbuddy

“If someone has to become the strongest, why can't it be me?”

An unfortunate young man, brought to another world by a meteor, voices his unwillingness with a defiant roar.

I just want to create a fantastical world that doesn't seem too unreal.

Pre-reading Reminder 1: If you think human nature can simply be divided into good or bad, proceed with caution.

Pre-reading Reminder 2: If you believe a sect is just a crowd of people flattering the protagonist, proceed with caution.

Pre-reading Reminder 3: If you think the whole world is a stage for the protagonist to show off, and all people are merely stepping stones for the protagonist, proceed with caution.

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So, I died. Face-planted on my keyboard after a 72-hour coding marathon. Very heroic. My one dying wish? To finally get some sleep.But the twist is : I got isekai'd. But I wasn't reborn as a legendary hero with a harem and a cheat skill. Nope. I'm a rock. A Dungeon Core, to be exact.My new job description is simple: create a terrifying labyrinth, murder heroes, and generally be a menace to society.Yeah, hard pass. That sounds like way too much paperwork. My new life goal is achieving a perfect 100-year nap.Luckily, I found a bug in the System—or maybe it's a feature? My unique “Slumber System” gives me way more XP (they call it Dungeon Points here) when adventurers take a nap than when I, you know, kill them. My assigned fairy guide, FaeLina, is having a non-stop panic attack about this. Apparently, “aggressive coziness” isn't covered in the Dungeon for Dummies handbook.So, I leaned into it. I started building the world's first 5-star dungeon resort, complete with fluffy moss beds that feel like clouds, a tea shop run by a friendly slime waiter, and pillows that hug you back. The place went viral. Knights come for the naps, mages for the therapeutic tea, and bards for the sweet, sweet content.The problem? My five-star reviews are tanking the property values of the 'Blood Pit' dungeon next door. I'm being forced into official Dungeon Tournaments where my ultimate weapon is a lavender-scented fog machine. And the stuffy bigwigs on the Fairy Council are starting to think my little “peaceful revolution” is a threat to their entire “kill-stuff-for-profit” business model.But the more I build, the more I realize this isn't just me being lazy. I'm uncovering an ancient, world-changing secret about why dungeons really exist, and it's a truth the gods themselves tried to bury.My name is Mochi, and my quest is to level up from a sleepy rock to the God of Dreams. My final boss isn't some dragon or demon lord. It's the original God of Combat himself.And I'm going to challenge him to a Nap Off for the fate of all reality.Who knew the path to ultimate power was this comfy?

Her childhood was forged in shadows, and she was sharpened into a weapon, trained to be a ghost, a killer—an instrument of vengeance. The target: a decorated general who brought down her family.But fate doesn't follow orders.Just as Lara was about to execute her long-planned mission, everything spiraled out of control. A military convoy intercepted her escape route—escorting none other than the general himself. And then came the moment that changed everything.A blinding crash. Screeching tires. Her body was thrown like a ragdoll, then darkness.She had a fleeting recollection of another world, another lifetime where kings ruled the land with an iron fist.But she woke up, and twelve long months had passed. She did not know where she was or who she was. She remembered nothing.They told her different names.A child with trembling hope whispered, “Mommy, your name is Moira Torres.”Her doctor insisted, “Your admission slip says Larissa Reyes.”A hardened general leaned close and commanded, “Remember who you are. Remember your mission.”Then another general—dangerously calm, incredibly familiar—looked at her as if she mattered and asked, “Can I call you Lara?”The name unlocked something buried deep in her soul.Lara Norse Kromwel.Daughter of General Odin Norse.Empress of the First Empire.But the man who watched her most closely dismissed it with cold certainty.“This is the 21st century,” he said. “What nonsense are you spouting? What Empress? You are my woman. You can only be mine!”