Primordial Villain with a Slave Harem

Chapter 1010: Reality Check

His gaze swept past Quinlan, pausing on each of his non-human girls.

Kitsara. Blossom. Seraphiel.

"Even your women... whom you treat as partners. Equals. Cherished companions."

"They wear collars because they are nothing more than playthings. They are not considered people under my law. They are livestock, because my ancestors and I decided it would be so."

"You think a man like me cares about a promise?"

"You think a man like me would flinch from blood, after building his empire on a continent of it?"

The weight in the air swelled even further.

Then it twisted.

"Felicity? You think her thoughts of my person matter in the grand scheme of things?"

His voice became sharper than ever before.

"Four of my five children already hate me."

"I wed my eldest daughter to a man even though she was in love with a different person. Perhaps she still is, because she tried to kill me at least a hundred times over the past four centuries. I’ve lost count a long time ago. My eldest son has a secret diary where he counts each unfortunate day that I am still breathing, barring him from taking the throne. He has been doing so for the past three hundred years. My younger son hasn’t looked me in the eyes since he was fourteen years old, which was two hundred years ago. He physically can’t bring himself to do so. All he sees is a monster too hideous to gaze at. My middle daughter joined the church just so she could escape me."

"So, Black, tell me. What is a fifth child who hates me?"

"Whether Felicity loves me... or hates me... matters not. All that matters is retaining the Valorian family’s iron grip over the Vraven Kingdom and extending the Kingdom’s influence beyond its borders."

A long silence came.

Then, the smallest shift in the king’s aura happened.

His eyes, still hard as diamonds, narrowed.

"But if you ever use Felicity as a bargaining chip again..."

The wind in the garden died.

"I will personally ensure your loved ones experience pure agony for the next hundred years."

He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t roar.

But it felt as if the ground itself had stopped breathing.

The contradiction in his statement lingered in the air.

He had just said she didn’t matter.

That her feelings meant nothing.

But his final warning... said otherwise.

"It seems you haven’t realized it yet, Black and his family... Let me spell it out for you."

"I’m a worse criminal than the syndicate scum hiding beneath the surface of this wretched land. The only reason I don’t have to answer for my crimes is that I am the one who judges." 𝐫𝓪ŊŎВÈ𝙨

Quinlan swallowed, again.

But in the next moment, something stirred in his chest.

The Still Heart.

That iron voice inside him finally returned, steadied, anchored.

And just like that, he exhaled.

A pressure of his own pushed outward. It was not vast enough to contest the king’s suffocating presence, nor Stormlord’s, but enough to wrap his party in a protective shell. Enough to let his girls breathe.

Ayame inhaled, then stood tall beside him.

Lucille straightened her spine.

Blossom positioned herself to lunge at the king from his blind spot.

Even Feng, still kneeling, managed to lift her head.

Quinlan turned.

As Serika and Vex were on the front because they stepped up to shield Feng, as well as the rest of the melee-oriented girls being at the front, he decided to trust them to keep the king in check.

So he faced Stormlord instead, having to protect the fragile ranged women in the back.

The two locked eyes.

Then Quinlan spoke.

"As a fellow father, I can’t imagine the pain you harbor in your heart. Being hated by your children... It is a fate worse than death. The decisions you made seem to weigh on you more than any physical construct ever could."

"But we each have to live with our demons. King Alexios, we will fight you until our last drop of blood. Yes, we might be lower level than you. However, let me tell you one thing: it would be a mistake to think we can’t punch above our weight. We’ve done it before, and we will do it again."

Stormlord didn’t answer.

Instead, with a thundering crackle, a massive warhammer of lightning and buzzing fury formed in his hands. He raised it slowly and aimed it at Quinlan’s chest.

Waiting for the command to strike.

The tension twisted in everyone’s lungs.

And then...

*Tap. Tap. Tap.*

Soft footsteps echoed from the marble hallway behind them.

A girl’s voice rang out, bubbly and youthful.

"Father! Sorry I’m late! The maids spent waaaaay too much time adjusting my dress-"

The girl rounded the corner. Light purple hair bounced in gentle curls, and her dress was a masterpiece of royal elegance. White and amethyst layers fluttered like flower petals. Light makeup dusted her cheeks. A string of pearls shone at her neck.

Princess Felicity froze.

Her eyes scanned the room. Saw the hammer. Felt the tension. Noted the pressure.

Her cheerful tone evaporated instantly.

"Father!!!"

She stomped her heel.

And just like that...

The king’s pressure vanished.

Felicity moved.

No hesitation. No trembling lip, no fear in her furious eyes.

She stepped forward. Her focus was on the man in front of her. Or to be even more specific, on the weapon crackling with barely-contained thunder, aimed right at her friends.

Stormlord’s warhammer buzzed with electricity, releasing arcs of lightning into the air around it. The mana channeled into the weapon screamed danger. Enough to burn skin, sear nerves, melt bone.

But Felicity didn’t stop.

She reached out as her delicate fingers extended straight for the hammer’s head.

Her palm was less than an inch away when the thunder vanished.

Stormlord cut the flow of mana in the final heartbeat.

The crackling died.

Felicity’s hand, small and soft, closed around the inert metal and pushed toward the ground.

And like a scolded mutt, Stormlord lowered it.

She had no physical strength. Her stats were abysmal even for a level 1 civilian.

But somehow, her sheer presence, her defiance, her fury, forced a Level 70 warlord to obey.

Stormlord’s head dipped.

He stepped back.

Felicity let go of the hammer and marched forward, stomping past the stunned group without sparing them a glance. Before pleasure could come, the business had to be concluded.

As such, she stopped before her father with her hands planted firmly on her hips.

And with all the anger of a girl who had had enough of her father’s nonsense, she snapped:

"Explain yourself!"