Primordial Villain with a Slave Harem

Chapter 1005: Bad Choice of Words

”She is. No wonder you turned into such a fine young lady, Miss Selendra~” Vex spoke up with a sly smile. If anyone knew the woman, they’d instantly be able to tell she thought of the pair as beyond trash. A pile of stinking shit she unfortunately encountered while out on a stroll with her hubby.

Selendra might’ve been many things, but being socially inept wasn’t one. She knew how to pick up on obvious clues when it came to social interactions. This was one of the only skills she properly polished in her life.

As such, her bright smile grew cold hearing Vex’s statement.

Vex muttered into everyone’s minds.

Kitsara shook her head with a strong hint of disapproval. Then caught herself. Cold sweat instantly emerged all over her body as her single tail froze.

A sing-song voice came from the Hexwitch, though none of the usual playfulness could be heard this time around.

Kitsara immediately moved behind Quinlan and, as a result, Yoruha as well, placing the only two people who could possibly contain the woman if she were to decide to retaliate.

Vex sighed before deciding to have a lengthy talk with the foxkin at a later date. Now was not the time. However, she did add one more thing.

The girls didn’t really know what to say to that. After all, Kitsara didn’t call her the oldest, just old. Adding older members to the harem didn’t magically reduce her age. But none desired to be the ones to reveal this to the yandere woman.

Lucille questioned.

And just like that, the harem chat ended. For now.

”Did I hear that right, daughter? Were you made fun of by using my name as if it were a taint on your upbringing?” Maerina Ravenshade’s voice came from behind the curtains of the larger chariot.

The daughter’s eyes grew even colder and more sadistic, hearing her mother speak up. ”I think you’re right, Mother.”

”I always am.”

*Clink!*

The sound of a latch echoed through the square, followed by the heavy groan of a reinforced door swinging open.

Maerina Ravenshade stepped out of her chariot at last.

She wore the latest in high noble fashion, which was layers of silver-threaded silk that somehow managed to shine in the light as if it were wet glass. It was incredibly eye-catching.

The dress hugged her figure tightly, perhaps too tightly for a woman past her prime. Her skin, pale and waxy from overuse of cosmetic enchantments, looked like it might crack if she smiled too widely.

Her lashes were thick, drawn-on, her lips unnaturally plump and wine-red. It was a mask of youth clumsily painted over the truth: an aging woman clinging desperately to her peak years.

With slow, deliberate grace, she raised her peacock-feathered fan and pointed it directly at Quinlan’s group.

”Arrest them! These criminals dared mock the name of a Duke family. Show them the consequences.”

Immediately, a squad of uniformed guards moved into formation, forming a wide semicircle around the party. The sharp clatter of armored boots echoed across the tiled plaza, drawing numerous gazes from the nobles and servants who were passing by. Halberds were lowered, and runic cuffs brought out.

Quinlan didn’t flinch, even as he counted twenty-four guards aiming their weapons at him and his family. He wasn’t dressed for battle: no armor, no Soul Reaper in sight.

His cloak fluttered gently in the breeze, his open collar and relaxed posture giving the air of a carefree traveler. But any real threat would see past that. They’d feel it: the coiled potential throbbing beneath his very skin.

The truth of the matter was that Quinlan gained way too much power after his latest Primordial Rank-Up mission. He struggled to hide his might properly; his very existence was just over-brimming the limits of what he could conceal. ṞА𝐍ŏᛒĚș

His real problem, however, wasn’t whether he could fight. It was what would happen if he did.

If he unleashed elemental spells to defend themselves, it wouldn’t take long before someone made the connection. After all, there was already a wanted man out there. A terrifying elemental prodigy known only as the Devil. His girls weren’t exactly unknown nobodies anymore.

Quinlan mused grimly.

The captain of the guard, a sharp-eyed man with a scar down his jaw and the crisp movements of someone who lived by protocol, stepped forward, standing between Quinlan’s group and his subordinates.

”By order of Lady Maerina Ravenshade, you are to disarm and surrender yourselves immediately! Any resistance will be considered treason against the House of Ravenshade and, by proxy, the Valorian Royal family! Do you understand?”

From behind their fans, both mother and daughter watched them with gleeful eyes. Their mouths were hidden, but their gaze screamed triumph, looking rather similar to two cats who’d cornered a canary with clipped wings.

Meanwhile, in the harem chat:

Vex hissed.

Many of the ladies voiced similar thoughts.

But Vex was feeling guilty. No, not only guilty. Worse than that: inadequate.

She hadn’t even entered the noble district yet. This was still just the outer edge, and she’d already messed up. Her beloved had trusted her to be on her best behavior, risking bringing such a high-profile criminal like her to the noble banquet because he wanted her not to feel left out.

And what had she done? Like the criminal thug that she was, she just couldn’t keep it shut.

Her fine, noble dress, her carefully braided hair, her pristine gloves... they meant nothing if her mind wasn’t ready. The slutty foxy might’ve been too rude for her own good, but she had been right. The clothes didn’t make the noble. The attitude did.

In that moment, Vex made a quiet vow.

She would no longer be a burden.

Not today. Not during this event. Even if it went against her instincts, she would behave.

Or at least try to. Vex had never been known for self-control.

But for her beloved, for her sisters, she would try her very best.

That was the moment when a thunderous boom split the air.

A blinding streak of blue lightning slammed into the plaza, kicking up stone and dust with enough force to send the front row of guards stumbling back. Halberds flew from hands, a few men dropped to a knee, cursing and shielding their eyes.

The impact site was barely two inches from the captain, a crater now embedded in the floor, still hissing with static arcs.

And standing in its center with his shoulders broad, high-tier armor gleaming menacingly and eyes shining brightly with stormlight, was him...