Primordial Villain with a Slave Harem

Chapter 708: Alien Style of Warfare

Soon, the citizens joined the effort. Some were driven by fear, others by desperation. A few lionkin children giggled, treating the digging like a game of whack-a-mole. They cheered every time dirt was thrown aside, completely ignorant of the terror creeping beneath their feet. Their parents, however, worked in grim silence, aware that this was anything but a good omen.

After a few minutes of no success whatsoever, VarʼZhul had enough of this nonsense. If his men were too slow, then heʼd do it himself. Snarling, he stomped toward the nearest place that was currently being dug, grabbed a mithril shovel from a trembling recruit, and drove it into the ground with all the force his immense Strength stat allowed. Earth and stone flew like debris in a storm, his muscles rippling as he dug with the force of a hundred men.

But then…

*BOOM!*

The dirt exploded in his face.

VarʼZhul barely had time to register the blast before he was sent rocketing through the air.

The heat singed his fur, and pain lanced across his arms and chest, but his natural resistance, thanks to his high Vitality stat combined with his armor, absorbed the brunt of the force, leaving him with no bruises.

While he was still mid-air, he twisted his body and looked in the direction of the explosion. His golden eyes locked onto the one responsible.

It was not a monster… At least not one that looked like a giant, evil dirt mole, which was what his mind had portrayed the creature responsible for the many tremors as. Instead, a tall figure clad in black greeted his gaze, a featureless mask concealing his face. He was already sinking back into the earth, vanishing into the very terrain like a specter.

VarʼZhul was as lost as could be. It was a humanoid who had such control over two of the elements… With a gasp, a specific, scary figureʼs silhouette emerged in his memory. Queen Morgana. Was this her, the fabled Elemental Sovereign of the Vraven Kingdomʼs royal Valorian family?

The lionkin general quickly dismissed the thought. Queen Morgana was a beautiful woman with perfect feminine proportions. This tall man was the exact opposite of her. Furthermore, even if she somehow managed to obscure her figure using magic, there had been no reports of her ever besieging a fortified town like this… She likely didnʼt have the means.

Thus, this human… No, this humanoid monster must be someone else. But… ”Who?!” VarʼZhul roared from the top of his lungs.

However, before he could even land from his skyborne adventure, his eyes traveled to the distance as his extremely sharp senses caught movement in the distance.

The figures who had been standing idle all this while were no longer still.

One of the elves stepped forward, raising a hand. Though too far to hear, VarʼZhul knew spellcasting when he saw it. But what made his fur bristle was the lack of any wand or staff.

She was casting without assistance?

That meant one thing: she was a true master of her craft.

A swirl of magic coalesced around her, shimmering with silver luminescence.

Glorious moonlit horses adorned with wings materialized from thin air.

VarʼZhulʼs breath hitched as he watched the invaders mount these unknown summons with strange eagerness, making it seem as if this was a first for them.

”Get the javelins!” he barked, his voice raw with fury. ”Shoot them down! Now!”

His soldiers scrambled for their weapons, but just when he finally hit the ground from his earlier explosion-induced flight with a practiced roll, his sharp eyes caught yet another nightmare unfolding.

A second mage, clad in ornate robes, lifted her staff into the air.

VarʼZhul didnʼt recognize the spell, but he recognized its effects.

Shields, massive and glowing with layered energy, encased the riders and their spectral mounts. Every single one of them received a protective barrier; even the mountsʼ hooves were in the range of protection. 𝑅₳₦ȯʙÈ𝘴

The thrown javelins that hit their mark squarely were useless. They bounced off as if they were twigs striking solid stone.

What the fuck kind of enchanter was this?! Heʼd never heard of an Enchanter-classed mage casting this many strong and large shields all at once!

And then, the killing began.

The sky was now death. The riders swooped down, cutting through the defenders like a scythe through dry wheat. Some used weapons of flashy steel, while others caused death and destruction with their spells. There was even a black-haired woman who was simply punching his soldiers with her bare fists, turning them into gory pastes.

VarʼZhul bellowed orders, but panic had already sunk its claws deep into Emberfang.

The children no longer cheered. Their laughter had turned into shrill screams as they were dragged away by frantic parents. Blood painted the streets.

Amidst the chaos, a deep, booming laugh echoed across the skies.

VarʼZhul turned just in time to see him cut down a soldier of his.

Darius, the dogkin prince, a beast of a warrior, was riding his moonlit steed with unrestrained joy, like a kid first allowed on the playground. His sword carved through lionkin flesh with ease, thanks to his enormously high physical stats as the second strongest dogkin alive today. His face was that of overwhelming exhilaration.

”Hahaha!! My little sis sure as hell chose an amazing mate and family to wed into!” Darius howled, his powerful voice carrying over the carnage as his less formal and more beastly side was allowed to blossom onto center stage. ”Now this is what I call a real fucking war party!”

VarʼZhulʼs heart pounded as he screamed, ”Get the flying mounts! We must counter-attack! They might have strange means to them, but we have the overwhelming numerical advantage! There are barely two dozen of them! Fight!”

The captainʼs orders sent his men scrambling toward the kennels. By now, desperation itself was fueling their frantic pace. But before they could reach their mounts, a chilling sound pierced the battlefield.

A cacophony of screeches.

Deep, guttural growls.

Then—screams.

Not enemy screams. His men.

”What now?!” he roared, snapping his head toward the source of the disturbance. His heart skipped a beat out of pure shock.

Beasts.

Dozens of them. Maybe even hundreds.

They were pouring from the kennels in a tidal wave of muscle, claws, and snapping jaws. Every manner of beast Emberfang had bred, trained, and shackled now ran rampant, tearing through the cityʼs defenders.

And among them, moving with practiced ease, were dogkin warriors.

VarʼZhulʼs blood ran cold.

”They infiltrated us…!!” he snarled as realization dawned on him.

But Emberfang was not so easily conquered. The city had more kennels, more beasts.

”Mount any beasts that havenʼt been freed! Take control of them before the enemy does!”

His men scrambled to obey, yet just as they reached the remaining kennels…

*BOOOOOM!!!*

The earth exploded.

VarʼZhul threw up an arm to shield his eyes as dust and rock erupted into the air like a volcanic eruption. A figure emerged from the debris, floating into the sky.

He wasnʼt hurried, no. The pace of his descent was slow and measured, and once he reached the height of a few stories, he ceased ascending altogether, floating in the air lazily.

Then, his arms outstretched to his sides, welcoming the carnage. His masked face tilted ever so slightly to the side, visibly drinking in the chaos with deep satisfaction.

Despite the featureless mask, VarʼZhul knew.

He could feel it.

This man was having the time of his fucking life at his and his peopleʼs expense.

The masked man turned his head toward the lionkin captain, and only two words left his lips.

”Your turn.”