Primordial Villain with a Slave Harem

Chapter 1096: Unwilling Betrayal

Countess Vexmore turned gracefully, though her shoulders carried the faintest stiffness, and began walking toward the door.

But then a hand reached for her neck from behind.

"Wha-!" she let out a startled yelp as rough fingers clamped around her slender throat. Her eyes went wide, disbelief flooding her as she turned her head just enough to glimpse the culprit.

Her son.

Her only remaining son.

Her lips parted, ready to demand an explanation, but no sound came out. His grip was iron, cutting off her voice, strangling her cries before they could escape. Desperately, she tried to scream for the guards and maids just beyond the door, but the pressure on her windpipe tightened until all that came out was a strangled wheeze.

The Countess thrashed wildly, and her manicured nails even clawed at his hand, but it was like trying to scratch a diamond. Useless.

Nevertheless, her limbs continued flailing with no grace, no dignity, just the pitiful instinct to live. She had always been a weak mage, a woman who survived by hiding behind the swords of her guards, collecting easy kills for levels while never once facing real danger herself.

She had never been in true combat, for she only needed to fight to elongate her lifespan, which came from getting levels.

The woman had never faced any real danger, and sure as hell never been this helpless.

Her eyes darted back to Teral’s face, silently screaming a single question: Why?

But what she saw there froze her blood more than his strangling hold.

His face was contorted in anguish, as though he were fighting himself every second. His jaw clenched until it quivered, and his features twisted unnaturally, making him look like a man being torn apart by invisible hooks. His hand shook violently against her throat, yet he did not let go. He could not let go. Tears spilled freely down his cheeks, and his lips trembled as he rasped,

"I can’t help it!"

The Countess’s chest burned, her vision blurred. Panic swelled into full-blown terror, real, raw terror, for the first time in her pampered life.

Then, from one moment to the next, reality split open beside them.

A shimmering doorway of light and shadow blossomed into existence. It pulsed with ominous energy, and despite the Countess having never seen such a magical phenomenon, she could somehow sense that it was a method of magical transportation that would lead to somewhere unknown, somewhere she definitely didn’t want to be.

’No, no, NO!’ The Countess’s thoughts screamed, though no words left her mouth. She flailed harder, legs kicking, nails raking against her son’s arm in desperation. Every nerve in her body shrieked with dread. She didn’t want to know what waited beyond that warped gateway. She didn’t want to go.

But her opinion on the matter was not asked.

Teral dragged her toward it, step by step, as his body trembled just as badly as hers, and tears rained down his cheeks endlessly. His free hand reached toward the rippling surface as though compelled by some unnatural force.

The Countess’s terror peaked, her thrashing becoming entirely frantic and uncoordinated now.

In the next moment, the portal swallowed them both, and then the world reformed in a violent lurch.

"Let her go."

A deep, commanding tone sounded.

The words rang through the chamber. Teral’s grip around her throat vanished instantly, which resulted in the Countess’s knees hitting the polished floor. She collapsed forward, coughing and choking, clutching at her throat as fresh air finally entered her lungs.

Then, once she managed to gather her bearings, her head slowly lifted to take a look at her surroundings.

It was a room of decadent opulence. Tall gilded pillars framed arched ceilings. Velvet curtains pooled in crimson heaps at the corners, and beneath her palms stretched a carpet so fine her brain couldn’t help but instantly begin assessing its worth, studying how much of her respect its owner deserved, momentarily forgetting her predicament. ɌάƝＯ₿ЁꞨ

Clearly, this was the luxurious residence of a family who was truly well-off.

But none of that mattered.

Two people stood at the room’s heart, looking down at her kneeling form.

Her eyes widened. The mask was gone, but there was no mistaking him. "Y-you!" she rasped, horror flaring hot in her chest. "Black... you’re the accursed noble who brought all this misery onto us!"

Beside him stood a woman she had no trouble placing. A short figure with black hair cascading to her shoulders and down her back. The tenth wife of Black. Just now, the Countess realized that she didn’t even know her name.

The unfriendly woman’s frame was clad in dark armor instead of the noble silks she wore at the feast. Back then, she seemed distant, uncomfortable, visibly wishing herself to be anywhere else but there.

Here, however... her expression was sharpened, refined into something far more dangerous. She didn’t hate her place. But she didn’t relish it as if it were her home, her paradise, either. She was simply present, comfortable but not softened.

The Countess’s chest fluttered with indignation right as outrage began swelling in her mind as a way to fight the creeping fear. She pushed herself shakily to her feet.

"What... what is the meaning of this?! What more do you want from us?!"

The noble’s eyes locked on hers. No explanation came. No justification. Just a single word, dropped like an iron weight:

"Kneel."

The Countess froze. Her lips parted, stunned by the audacity.

"What?"

Her eyes were overcome with disbelief as outrage mixed with fear, but before she could hurl her retort back at him, a thud sounded from beside her.

She whipped her head around.

"T-Teral?!"

Her son was on his knees. His shoulders trembled violently, and his entire spine quivered as though he were fighting the very bones in his body. She seized his hand before pulling with all her strength.

"Get up! Get up, my son!"

But his body would not rise. His muscles strained and tendons bulged, yet his frame bowed deeper as though gravity itself had doubled around him. He fought. She could see it. He resisted with everything he had. But his body simply would not listen.

The Countess’s stomach dropped to ice. Slowly, fear gave way to fury. She snapped her head back toward the man. Her eyes were blazing as she screamed, "I won’t stand for this! Let my son and me go right now or else-!"

But she never got to finish her sentence.