Primordial Villain with a Slave Harem

Chapter 1557  Beneath the Earth

A short bit ago…

One hundred meters beneath the battlefield, Quinlan Elysiar sat in the dark.

The pocket heʼd carved was large enough for his body to occupy it comfortably. He floated at its center with his legs crossed and his palms resting on his knees, suspended by a gentle cycling of wind that kept him motionless in the pitch black.

His eyes were closed.

Theyʼd been closed since the fight began.

The mana flowing out of him climbed upward through a hundred meters of compressed soil and rock, threading through the earth in channels that split into dozens of hairline veins as they neared the surface. They surfaced beneath the decoyʼs feet and fed into the illusion from below, pouring elemental energy into the projection that Kitsaraʼs detached tail wore like a skin.

It was, without a doubt, the most intricate application of his magic he had ever attempted.

Channeling fire through a hundred meters of earth and stone while keeping the output stable enough to look natural at the surface was like trying to thread a needle while someone violently shook him by the shoulder.

Every element had to travel the full distance, maintaining coherence through layers of rock that wanted to absorb it, dissipate it, or redirect it along the path of least resistance. Wind was the worst. Wind wanted to scatter the moment it left his hands, and forcing it through solid earth required a constant pressure that ate mana like a furnace ate kindling.

He sat perfectly still while his mind fought a war.

Kitsaraʼs voice rang through the [Masterʼs Link].

He couldnʼt speak out loud, for a hundred meters of earth separated them. Everything went through the link.

Kitsara moved the decoyʼs left hand, and Quinlan felt the shift through [Overlordʼs Eyes] as the illusion adjusted. He saw what the decoy saw: Morgana hovering above them, mana cycling, the field scorched and smoking around them.

He poured fire into the channels.

The element surged upward through the earth, racing through the pathways heʼd carved, and erupted from the surface beneath the decoyʼs feet. It traveled through the illusionʼs legs and into its palms, and from Morganaʼs perspective, the Primordial Villain conjured flame in his hands the same way he always did.

The shockwave from the collision propagated downward through the ground and Quinlan felt it in his bones, a deep vibration that reminded him exactly how much power the woman above him was throwing around.

ʼAnd Iʼm trying to match it from down here,ʼ he thought. ʼThrough solid rock.ʼ

He grinned in the dark.

Channeling through that much stone ate a good chunk of everything he sent upward, and Morgana was reading his diminished output as his actual limit. Which was exactly the point.

Quinlan felt Morganaʼs mana spike through the link and he shifted focus, sending stone screaming upward to form the dome. [Infernal Gale] hit it and started grinding through, and underground he clenched his teeth and fed layer after layer into the channels faster than the lance could eat through them.

The lance died. He exhaled and rebuilt the shattered pathways. Every big spell fractured the channels heʼd threaded through the rock, adding a half-second delay to every exchange that Morgana read as him slowing down.

Kitsara paused.

Happy to be trusted with her part of their dual act, Kitsara settled into silence. Through the link Quinlan felt her focus sharpen as she turned her attention back to Morgana. The foxkinʼs tail adjusted the decoyʼs posture, squaring the shoulders, tilting the chin up just slightly.

Maybe he had a point. ”Stupid fucking bitch” wasnʼt his register. He was colder than that, more dismissive, the kind of man who made you feel small without raising his voice.

The decoy looked at Morgana and the foxkin shaped the words herself.

”Yep. Still batshit insane.”

Close enough.

…

Magma was the easiest element to send through stone, and when Morgana saw it surface, she lost her mind.

Kitsara reported.

Morgana was rambling about his element switching and his growth rate, and Quinlan listened from the dark while the woman above him had a religious experience over a projection.

Quinlanʼs eye twitched behind his closed lids as he listened to Kitsara ramble about skill issues and how Morganaʼs a loser and everything.

She paused.

…

Felicityʼs voice hit them both at the same time, screaming at Morgana about how Quinlan would have helped her if sheʼd just asked.

Morgana didnʼt look at her.

Kitsaraʼs voice had gone flat.

Quinlan could feel through the link that the tail maintaining the illusion was trembling with the foxkinʼs anger. If she lost her grip the whole facade would shimmer.

A long pause. The trembling subsided.