Primordial Villain with a Slave Harem

Chapter 1961: The Villain’s Fang

Water streamed from her hair. She drew air into her lungs without exposing herself above the mast, watching the distant figures working along the merchantman’s rail.

The vessel grew smaller as she watched from behind the broken mast.

At last, the curve of the sea hid its hull, leaving only a ragged sail above the horizon.

Black Fang planted her palm on the ice and pulled herself out.

Her boots found the frozen shelf Quinlan left behind beside a dead Fomorian. She straightened, water pouring from the hem of her clothes and pattering onto the blood beneath her feet.

”Haa...”

She pushed her wet hair behind one shoulder. Her combat robes usually concealed her figure, but the soaked black silk now clung to her breasts and waist. Cold water trickled down her leg beneath the torn hem.

Quinlan would have dried and warmed her already.

The thought came so readily that she looked toward the distant sail again.

Now she stood alone with a sea full of corpses and a freezing body.

Black Fang glanced down at the saber, its hilt warm beneath her cold fingers. She remembered the pleasure in Quinlan’s eyes when she had accepted his wordless request.

That smile brought another of his remarks back with perfect clarity.

”The Villain’s Fang cannot be an indecisive woman.”

She could hear the smug bastard saying it.

Back then, she had told him to shut his mouth.

Her lips parted now, but the remembered grin made her heart warm before she could find anything contemptuous to say about it.

His fang.

”Preposterous.”

Black Fang lowered her gaze to the Fomorian at her feet. His lower hand had frozen around the axe that brought him up the ship’s side.

Remembering the fight sent a delicious thrill through her.

His death had moved her toward level seventy-five.

More than a century of killing had failed to give her that next level.

She looked across the bodies littering the ice, remembering the wealth of XP that had appeared in her vision.

Her mouth slowly curved.

”My heart won’t calm down.”

The dead pirate stared upward with the terror of his last moment still fixed on his face.

Black Fang stepped over his arm and raised the Soul Reaper. Violet light shone through the wet silk over her mark, spreading along her wrist into the saber.

”[Soul Collection].”

Her spell sent violet threads from the saber into the dead scattered across the ice and beneath the water, catching their souls and drawing them toward the blade.

...

A cold pull caught beneath Quinlan’s ribs while Narethi spread a chart across a crate beside him.

He recognized Black Fang drawing on his necromancy channel through the saber he had left in her hands. Pale-blue light ran between Synchra’s breastplates as her collection spell took hold.

Narethi stopped smoothing the chart.

”My lord? Are you alright?”

Quinlan glanced down at the glow. Synchra’s crimson seams had acquired a ghostly blue edge, bright enough to reflect on the naga’s scales.

His helmet parted over his face, and he gave her an easy smile.

”Quite alright. Just cooling down.”

”Oh.” Her gaze lingered on his chest before she returned to the chart. ”Please tell us if there’s anything you need.”

”I will. Thank you.”

Vex stood beside him, studying the unfamiliar coastline drawn across the parchment. Her expression remained politely curious while another cold surge passed through his body.

”>

”>

Quinlan rested his hand on the crate as Narethi indicated their position.

Far behind the merchantman, blue fire lit the frozen sea.

...

Blue fire burst from the Fomorian at Black Fang’s feet.

His soul tore free as a writhing wisp, and the Reaper swallowed it with a deep hum. Across the shelf, violet threads pulled more souls through the ice and water, gathering them into streams of pale light.

Black Fang raised the saber into the converging fire. Its glow washed over her wet skin as the captain’s soul surged from his headless body, straining upward against her spell.

”There’s no escape.”

She turned the blade toward the captain’s rising soul. Power flowed from her violet mark into the Reaper, dragging it down into its hungry flames.

Black Fang watched it disappear, her unhinged smile widening as the remaining souls poured into the saber. Through the necromancy channel Quinlan had shared with her, she claimed them all for him.

These men had thought they could rape his women, speaking of hideous acts even in their last moments.

Now he owned their souls for the rest of eternity.

The last wisp vanished into the black steel, and the flames withdrew. Water dripped from Black Fang’s hair as she lowered the saber, still smiling.

Sunlight returned to the ice and the bodies lying across it.

She looked at the blade in her hand.

”Satisfied?”

The Soul Reaper tugged toward the distant ship.

”Okay.”

She released it from her hand. Beside her knees, the saber turned flat in the air, its point aimed along the merchantman’s wake.

Black Fang stepped onto the flat of the blade, one boot near the guard and the other farther along its length. The Reaper held her weight without dipping.

”Go.”

The saber accelerated toward its master, carrying her low over the waves. Black Fang bent her knees as it banked around floating wreckage, her wet hair streaming behind her.

When a swell rose ahead, the Reaper lifted her over it and dipped toward the water again. The merchantman’s ragged sail grew above the horizon.

...

Quinlan felt the Reaper skimming above the water, rapidly closing the distance.

”>

”>

Narethi rolled up the chart as Vex moved to the stern rail. ”I’m so hungry!! Is there anyone who can fish here?”

Many sailors flexed their biceps in response as if personally insulted and got to work.

Kitsara approached the first mate beside the steps to the helm.

”Could you show us how you steer with that? It looks fun~”

The man looked toward Narethi, who gave him permission to demonstrate. Kitsara leaned over the mechanism with an interest that soon had him pointing out its parts.

Blossom meanwhile squatted and jumped straight into the spotter’s basket. She asked for tips on how to spot things better while pointedly aiming in the opposite direction from which Black Fang was approaching.

The Soul Reaper carried Black Fang over the rail behind the distracted sailors.

She stepped off the blade onto an empty stretch of deck. The Reaper slid back to his side while she passed behind the mast, emerging among the women gathered there.

Quinlan met her before she reached the crates.

”I forgot to warm you up all this time? My bad.”

His hand came to rest against her back, warm through the drenched silk. He smiled at her while water lifted from her clothes in clear ribbons, gathering above his free palm.

Black Fang stopped beside him.

The cold weight left her robes. Her hair loosened against her shoulders as his magic drew the seawater from each strand, and the cloth at her waist softened beneath his hand.

He sent the water over the rail, watching her face.

”Better?”

She looked up at him and narrowed her eyes.

He had done exactly what she had imagined out on the ice, reaching for her as soon as he saw the water dripping from her clothes.

His attention stayed on her while the crew worked around them. He seemed far too pleased to have her beside him.

”...”

Across the deck, Ayame looked up from her conversation with Lucille. Her blue eyes found her sister staying beside Quinlan even after being dried, and her mouth began to curve.

Black Fang saw it.

For once, she let her sister smile.

With the battle loot collected, it was finally time to enter civilization!