Primordial Villain with a Slave Harem

Chapter 1370  Senile King

Valorianʼs royal palace did not display that same level of calm and confidence that Ravenshade had.

King Alexios rose from his throne the moment the report was delivered.

”Say it again,” he ordered.

The courier swallowed. ”We lost contact with ten border fortresses, Your Majesty. All along the Elvardian frontier. The silence began at the same time.”

The throne room quieted.

Alexiosʼs expression turned grave instantly. Ten. Not one. Not two. Ten fortresses did not vanish because of storms, faulty arrays, or clerical failure.

He turned away from the court, steps measured as he walked down the raised dais. His mind was already elsewhere.

A memory surfaced, unwanted and sharp.

A call.

A familiar voice.

A tone that carried far too little respect.

”We might be criminal and king, a wanted man and the man who posts the bounties, but I still think of you in a favorable light,” Quinlan had said. ”Youʼre a good man. I pity you for having been blessed by the worst wife known to mankind. So I just wanted to let you know that maybe you should strengthen-”

Then came silence in the call.

It was not a clean end of a sentence, nor was it the result of interruption by static. Quinlan merely paused before he finished his statement.

Alexios remembered leaning forward on his throne, irritation rising. ”Strengthen what? Spit it out already. And stop badmouthing my damned wife.”

Quinlan had remained silent for too long, as if paying attention to something else.

When he spoke again, the tone had shifted. It turned joking and arrogant.

”Strengthen your resolve to call me your emperor in the near future.”

At the time, Alexios had seen only insolence. The man who was already the biggest pain in his behind was, once again, as he often did, posturing beyond his station.

Now, standing in his throne room with ten fortresses gone dark, the memory sat differently.

Alexios stopped walking.

His jaw tightened.

Quinlan had not finished his sentence the first time. He had stopped himself. Changed course. Whatever he had intended to say had been replaced with arrogance once he decided on something else.

This, combined with the fact that Alexios finally secured a rare victory when Quinlan had been repelled by the human cityʼs barriers, hastily prepared under his direct orders. He was unable to repeat what he did in Greenvale, unable to force entry and claim more noble lives.

Then this happened.

Ten cities.

Along Elvardiaʼs border.

All at once.

Alexios spun back toward the throne.

”That motherless heathen is at it again!” he roared.

The words cracked through the chamber, bouncing off marble and steel. Several advisors flinched outright.

”He is behind this. I am certain of it!” Alexios continued, voice rising. The old king was getting very animated as he shouted, ”I want my orders delivered to Tharion immediately: SEND THE ARMY! I want whatever the Primordial Villain is doing brought to an end right now!”

A few of the older nobles exchanged looks. Not defiant ones per se, more so the kind reserved for moments when a figure in their community finally lost his battle against time and had gone senile.

Alexios saw it.

The hesitation. The sidelong glances. The careful silence.

For a breath, his mouth opened again, heat climbing his throat.

I am not crazy!

The words pressed against his teeth.

He forced them down.

His shoulders squared instead.

”My liege,” one advisor said carefully, stepping forward with hands clasped. ”By ʼthe army,ʼ what scale do you intend? What should I tell Lord Tharion?”

Alexios turned on him.

”What scale?” he repeated.

The advisor hesitated. ”Yes, Your Majesty. How many soldiers should be mobilized?”

Alexios did not hesitate.

”EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM!”

The room stiffened.

”Every banner. Every levy. Every knight sworn to this crown. Quinlan Elysiar must be stopped at any cost, or the cost will become our very lives in the near future.”

Silence followed, thick and heavy. One advisor bowed deeply and hurried from the chamber to carry the order. Those who remained composed themselves, faces smooth, spines straight.

Too smooth.

Alexios saw it anyway. The lack of urgency. To them, Quinlan remained a problem someone else would solve. A nuisance that would solve itself with time. His luck would run out soon.

They were wrong.

That man was not a nuisance. He was the single most dangerous variable Alexios had faced in a thousand years.

An Elvardian invasion would not have made him blink. A beastkin horde would have earned a measured response. Criminal syndicates crawling out of the shadows was a development he used for political gains.

This was different.

This was a man who had risen from nothing.

Alexios looked over his vassals.

”I am an old man. My time on this plane is limited. Soon, I will earn the right to greet the Goddess.”

A few heads dipped respectfully.

”But I refuse to leave my kingdom in worse shape than when my father placed this crown upon my head.”

”My king,” a noble spoke, cautious but sincere. ”It is a worthy goal. But are you not placing too much weight on Quinlan Elysiar? We do not even know if he is involved. For all we know, he is busy planning his next move elsewhere.”

Another voice followed. ”Or perhaps he has already done all the damage he can behind enemy lines. Now that we stopped him in our cities, he may simply join the Consortium openly and become just another enemy to be met on the battlefield.”

Several others nodded, polite and restrained toward the king, but in clear agreement that he was overreacting.

Alexios turned away from them. His gaze lifted to the statue of the Goddess at the far end of the hall. Stone eyes looked back, calm and distant.

”Grant me strength…”

He turned back slowly.

”You think this ends because we raised barriers. You think that because we denied him entry once, he will retreat.”

His fingers curled against his palm.

”You do not understand what he is.”

The room stayed quiet.

”We repelled his advance, yes,” Alexios continued. ”But ask yourselves this. Is that truly all he is capable of?”

He took a step forward.

”He is an elemental mage and a frontline warrior in one, casting large-scale, devastating spells while having the build to conduct hand-to-hand duels with strong warriors. He teleports. He commands necromantic forces that surpass anything our scholars have catalogued. Our first record of him is from this spring. This year. Before that, nothing. No family. No birthplace. No academy. No registry. He did not rise. He just appeared.”

Murmurs stirred.

”We traced every archive we have. We found nothing. Then one day, the name Quinlan appears as the poor commoner boy who was lucky enough to be granted the right to purchase Ayame Fujimori as a slave. And within months, he goes from a presumed level one nobody who required a level fourteen samurai to survive goblin ambushes, to a man who turns the tides of war with his presence alone.”

His voice sharpened.

”He forced an entire nation to scramble like blind men, reinforcing city barriers in panic, spending immense resources in the process. That was our response. Reaction. Not control.”

Alexiosʼs breathing grew heavier.

”And now you tell me he is done.”

His hand struck the air.

”No. He is not done. Far from it. The Primordial Villain…”

The chamber stiffened.

”Is only getting started.”

Many gulps sounded.

”I refuse to insult that horrible creature by believing he would be stopped so easily. That is why we respond properly. That is why we move with force and urgency.”

He swept his gaze across every face.

”From this moment on, any matter involving Quinlan Elysiar is to be treated as a matter of national importance. No delays. No dismissals. No assumptions. Treat it as if our continued survival depended on it.”

His voice echoed.

”Is that understood?”

No one spoke. Every advisor and noble present bowed.