Primordial Villain with a Slave Harem

Chapter 706: Grim Reality

For a city preparing to be besieged, it didnʼt feel like one. At least, not on the surface. The streets bustled with life, filled with lionkin going about their day. Market stalls lined the roads, their vendors calling out to passing customers. Children ran about happily, playing some sort of pretend war game, with some being mighty lionkin warriors while the others pretended to be enemies.

All in all, it seemed to be a normal city.

At a glance, Emberfang could have been mistaken for any other beastkin settlement.

But after a few minutes of walking about, scouting the town, Kitsara reached the location of the ʼranches.ʼ

The scent hit us first. Blood. Sweat. Filth.

It was strong, pungent, carrying a foul odor beneath the more common smells of livestock. The ranch itself was massive, stretching across the far eastern district of Emberfang. Wooden fencing enclosed vast sections of land, where different breeds of beasts were raised: warhounds with bristling fur, reptilian mounts with thick hides, and avian creatures bred for scouting from above, among many other types of beasts.

And then, past them, there were the pens.

At first, they looked the same as the animal enclosures. Thick iron bars, wooden beams reinforced with sharpened spikes to prevent anything from breaking free. But it wasnʼt animals inside.

It was people.

Humans. Elves. Dwarves.

Stacked in tight pens, shoulder to shoulder, their bodies covered in filth. Some were curled in the corners, barely more than skeletons from starvation or other illnesses. Others sat in the dirt, gnawing at bones that had already been stripped clean of flesh. The stronger ones paced like caged beasts, their eyes hollow, their gazes dead even as they moved.

The lionkin paid them no mind. To them, this was normal.

Just another food source, another form of livestock, no different from cows. Kitsara watched as a group of lionkin warriors approached one of the pens, discussing their selection like cooks inspecting cuts of meat.

”This oneʼs got good muscle. Would make for a hearty stew.”

”Not yet. Let them fatten up first.”

”That elf looks tender enough. Always did prefer them over the dwarves. Less stringy.”

”Youʼve got no taste for the gourmet stuff, brother! Dwarves stay in Elvardia, locked away in their smithies and breweries. Theyʼre the rarest type of meat.”

”Rare or not, I just want to eat tasty food. The fancy lords can have their dwarves.”

Laughter followed. A clawed hand reached through the bars, gripping a young manʼs jaw, tilting his head from side to side as if inspecting the quality of a fruit before purchase. The man didnʼt resist. He just stood there, eyes blank, accepting his fate. Ꞧ₳ＮοＢÈS

Kitsara exhaled slowly, doing her utmost to steady her breath. She couldnʼt afford to look like a person whoʼd never seen such a sight before.

Vargis was a protective father, but not so much that he would shelter this half-century-old woman from the knowledge that lionkin liked to farm humanoids for their meat. Be that as it may…

Was my heart all sunshine and rainbow upon the sight? No, of course not. I didnʼt derive joy from seeing needless suffering. In fact, my heart was heavy with emotions.

However.

Accepting my words, Kitsara moved through Emberfang with measured steps, taking in the cityʼs state. The lack of heavily armed soldiers was noticeable. The streets, while not empty, werenʼt filled with patrols, and the beast kennels she had passed earlier had more handlers than guards. It was clear—they had truly sent a great portion of their forces north to deal with the invasion.

Even so, taking down a whole city isnʼt possible with just the fifty or so warriors we have.

Or at least, that would be the case if they didnʼt have members with our means.

She made her way back toward the kennels, ensuring that no one paid her any attention. The massive beasts growled, yawned, or slept in their pens, not alerted by her presence. Weaving through the enclosures, she moved into the nearby bushes, where she found an empty spot far from any wandering souls, a place where no prying eyes would disturb her.

The moment she confirmed she was alone, through the link of [Overlordʼs Eyes], I activated [Warp Gate]. This combo was truly broken, utilizing my Primordial Subjugator and Primordial Villain spells together to achieve feats no man should possibly be capable of. I used my [Subjugated] targetʼs illusion skills to gain access to restricted areas I should have no business entering on my own and then opening a portal while my body was miles away, having never laid my physical eyes even on the cityʼs outer walls, let alone its interior.

This once again ascertained that no primordial should have access to two primordial classes. There was a good reason why my mothers thought me to be an anomaly.

I felt like I was plain cheating.

A swirling void opened before Kitsara. From the other side, the two teams of elite dogkin who were not led by Darius personally stepped through.

Each of them carried themselves with discipline, showcasing their seasoned veteran status in the dogkin army. One by one, they disappeared into the shadows, lying in wait for the signal.

Kitsara turned and stepped through the portal, returning to my side. The gate vanished the moment she did, leaving Emberfang none the wiser.

The trap was set.

Why didnʼt we all enter?

Thatʼs because the beastkin were fighters suited for tight, enclosed spaces. They thrived in duels, in fluid combat, where they could overwhelm their enemies with precision and speed.

Unlike them, I, as well as multiple other AoE-type human and elf combatants, were at our best when we had a larger field to play with. Instead of storming the streets, we would drag them out, forced to play at our own rules. Thatʼs how we had any semblance of winning with these odds. They had over a thousand soldiers and just as many beasts left. Without making them dance to our tune, victory would elude us.

And if they refused to leave the cityʼs walls?

That simply wasnʼt an option when you faced the Avatar of the Elements.

They will come out, or their city will burn.

Lastly… I canʼt help but wonder what my level will be by the time Rosieʼs gift of a 48-hour-long x10 XP multiplier ends.

Itʼs time to farm.