Primordial Villain with a Slave Harem

Chapter 996: New Arrangement

Her blush had deepened to a dangerous shade of crimson, and she was no longer sure whether to punch him, thank him, or dig a hole and bury herself inside.

Meanwhile, Rykar looked utterly scandalized.

”... You want to bring your girlfriend to class to not be bored?” he said with undisguised disapproval. ”Is nothing sacred anymore?”

”She’s not my girlfriend.”

Kaelira’s head whipped toward him instantly.

”... She’s my smith.”

She blinked, torn between murder and... something suspiciously warm.

Rykar groaned and rubbed the bridge of his nose with a phantom limb he no longer had. ”By the stars above... fine. But don’t expect me to treat her gently. You know how I teach. I refuse to change.”

Kaelira’s blush disappeared instantly as soon as she heard those words. Her eyes narrowed dangerously. ”And I refuse to be coddled. I’m not sure if you’re worthy of being my teacher as well, but if you are, then treat me in the way you believe will result in the greatest outcome.”

Rykar slowly turned his head toward the elf.

Kaelira stood tall beside the forge, allowed down from the air by Quinlan. Chin raised, arms folded confidently beneath her chest. Her eyes shone with overwhelming resolve. There was no tremble in her voice, no hesitation in her stance. She meant every word she said.

She meant to be great, and she was willing to put in all the work it required.

And in that instant, Rykar saw it.

That steel in her spine. That hunger in her heart. She wasn’t here because Quinlan dragged her along for something as flimsy as keeping him entertained. She was here because he knew she had the fire and now needed the guidance of a master like Rykar to evolve further.

And damn it all... that fire reminded him of himself, long ago.

A flicker of pride stirred deep in his chest. The corners of his mouth twitched—just once—as a smile dared test the limits of his facial discipline.

He crushed it mercilessly.

”She’ll do, I suppose...” he grunted, turning away before anyone could notice anything on his face.

Because no one needed to know that he already liked her so much more than that rude bastard called Quinlan Elysiar.

...

The trio entered the forge. Quinlan used a gust of controlled air to place Rykar atop a table beside the anvil.

The old man grunted once and settled, scanning the interior with the stern scrutiny of a king judging a rival’s keep.

”Good. From here, I can see both your mistakes as soon as they’re made.”

Then, Rykar’s expression turned serious. He closed his eyes and summoned the power of his new class, the [Mythwright]. A unique class born from his experience, wisdom, and soul-deep connection to the forge, a class that could only ever pass on its legacy to one chosen student.

He extended his hand—well, he did the motion of it—and spoke the invocation.

”By will and craft, I name Quinlan Elysiar my successor.”

A golden glow sparked to life around him.

Then it flickered.

Then it died.

Rykar blinked.

He grunted and tried again.

”By will and craft, I name Quinlan Elysiar my-”

Again, failure.

”...What?” he growled. ”What kind of idiocy is this? Did you refuse the link?!”

Quinlan raised an eyebrow. ”Nope. I didn’t even get a prompt.”

”You... if this is a joke...”

”I swear on my soul, I didn’t reject anything.”

Rykar reluctantly nodded. He tried a third time.

And failed.

Then a fourth.

And a fifth.

By the sixth, he was snarling like a dog denied a bone. ”You ungrateful child! Are you mocking my legacy?! Is this some part of your dumb plan to humiliate me?!” ŔÄƝǑВÊ𝙎

”I’m telling you-!”

But Quinlan stopped mid-sentence. His brows furrowed, then rose. Slowly, a spark of realization crossed his face.

”Wait...”

Without warning, he turned toward Kaelira. His hand reached for her slim waist.

”Eh?” the toned elf yelped, flinching in reflex, but she didn’t pull away. Her breath caught, her heart beat wildly in her chest, but her eyes met his. She didn’t resist. She never had. If he asked, even if for a lot more, she would’ve obeyed as his loyal follower. He simply never asked.

”Try it now,” Quinlan said.

Rykar grumbled but repeated the invocation.

And this time...

A surge of radiant light exploded between the three of them.

It twined around Kaelira’s form first, encircling her like molten ribbons of intent. Then it wrapped around Quinlan—gentler, dimmer, fainter, like a second thought still embraced in flame. The forge itself responded, flaring with heat and light as the Soul Records’ judgment bathed the room in a brilliance that spilled past the walls and lit up the courtyard beyond.

Finally, the energy settled like a brand on their chests.

It had worked.

Kaelira was selected as the student for the first 75% of the crafting process, and Quinlan for the final 25%.

Rykar’s eyes narrowed sharply. ”What in the...”

It wasn’t Quinlan who answered. He was too busy going through his system window, checking for any updates or surprise bonuses.

Kaelira swallowed once, her chest rising and falling with nerves. Then, voice soft and unsure, she whispered, ”M-My guess... is that the Soul Records recognized something neither of you did.”

She glanced between the two men with pink cheeks, thanks to the ridiculousness of what she was about to say out loud.

”My Lord... I think he... he wasn’t truly interested in the whole process. Probably not even consciously, as he happily accepted your offer of tutelage.”

Rykar let out a low, tired sigh. ”What do you mean?”

”His soul didn’t reject the legacy... but it didn’t accept it either. Not fully.” She fidgeted slightly. ”It’s like... he only ever cared about the final moment. The end result. The magic. The spark. The flair. When everything comes together and the crafted item feels... legendary.”

Her voice softened. ”But me... I love the grind. The preparation. The shaping. The small details no one ever notices. I might even like that part more than the flashy finish. And so maybe...” Her eyes dipped before she forced them back up. ”Maybe the Soul Records saw us... as two individuals who together make a single student.”

She immediately turned away, flustered. ”R-Ridiculous, I know. I probably sound completely insane right now...”

Rykar stared at her, silent.

Then... slowly... he turned his head toward Quinlan.

His eyes squinted.

Deeply.

As if they were trying to drill through the younger man’s smug skull and scrape out the truth within.

”That’s right... He’s a showman with a god complex.”

Quinlan raised a brow in response without denying a single thing.

”I thought you’d be the perfect inheritor of all that I am. You’re strong in battle, brilliant with magic, the man my daughter loves...” Rykar rubbed his temple with a phantom hand.

”But I ignored the most important factor: personality. You’re a battle junkie. You want to behead gods and walk through burning battlefields, not hammer rivets and temper steel. You just want to slap on the glowing part at the end and claim it’s your masterpiece.”

Kaelira cleared her throat pointedly. ”Please speak with more respect when you talk about My Lord.”

Rykar ignored her entirely, eyes still locked on Quinlan.

Quinlan, for his part, just shrugged with the same annoying smirk tugging at his lips. ”This arrangement works perfectly for me,” he announced simply.

Entirely shameless. Entirely pleased.

Rykar’s eye twitched a billion times.