Primordial Villain with a Slave Harem

Chapter 1180: Our Monster

The horns sounded.

Retreat.

The sounds of the horns cut through the last traces of chaos, and the battlefield that had once been a writhing mass of noise began to unravel.

From behind the fortress walls, voices rose in disbelief. Consortium soldiers who had been too scared to even look outside now crowded the battlements. Many gawked. Some muttered prayers they hadn’t spoken in years.

They had been surrounded by the full might of the Fujimori. The outcome should have been certain. Deep down, they knew their end was near; it was time to greet the Goddess.

Even the brave soldiers who sallied out under the orders of Captain Rynne did so out of pure desperation and the desire to protect their loved ones behind the walls.

Yet the enemy was fleeing.

Their gazes turned to the figure hovering above the ramparts, to the man who had appeared uninvited and single-handedly changed the course of the battle. He created a miracle on this day.

He alone stood between them and annihilation.

Quinlan exhaled slowly and rose from his seated position. The blue light around him dimmed. He pointed his finger.

In the fields before him, lines of light flared among the retreating soldiers. The ground shook as a dozen explosions burst in sequence, scattering men and banners alike.

A few of the Consortium soldiers gasped at the sight. Others simply watched, unable to decide what they should feel in this moment, as they watched the man who must’ve already expended tens of thousands of Mana Points bring down utmost ruination on the enemies, or perhaps the term ’his victims’ might be more accurate.

It was as if he existed beyond their understanding of logic.

He summoned thousands of soldiers, and now he personally casts such spells? It was simply incomprehensible.

However, despite seeing the retreating army, Quinlan didn’t move to pursue. He had already achieved what he wanted.

The stronghold still stood. Without the barrier shielding him, he would have been swarmed the moment the stronger enemies got a gist of him outside the barrier. He would’ve loved to chase them down and finish the job, but he knew he wasn’t strong enough to completely disregard all his enemies and treat them as mere fuel for his growth.

They could bite him - very much so.

Thus, there was no need to test his limits here. He couldn’t forgive himself if he couldn’t feel the warmth of his lovers because he saw red like a bull and chased XP.

Having decided that it was enough, his eyes drifted across the blood-stained field, over the fading spirits, over the blue haze that lingered from his spellwork, and then they stopped.

Far beyond the barrier, standing among the corpses and smoke, was Lilith. Her dark armor was nearly untouched; she herself was barely even scratched.

As the two stared into each other’s eyes, she didn’t move. Neither did he.

Even after learning that Lilith was perhaps not a horrible woman, unlike her sister, Quinlan did not feel apologetic one bit.

Yes, he killed Scar and took the woman away from her friends, but so what?

Scar was an adult woman who made her decisions, and so was the case for the rest of the Lilies.

They decided to hunt him down like a dog because they wanted to enjoy freedom.

In his eyes, Scar’s death and the following damnation were merely the consequences of their actions. He had done nothing wrong.

Quinlan didn’t feel animosity toward Lilith, fully understanding that he was a roadblock in their path that had to be removed. There was no resentment in his heart for that; if having spent centuries closed in a continent he felt he’d outgrown, he’d also do anything in his power to escape it.

But, as they say, to the victor go the spoils.

If they won, he would’ve died.

But he won, so Scar died.

If they kept trying to kill him, he’d continue resisting with all he had, doing his best to kill them all.

In fact, based on the utmost hatred for his person in Lilith’s eyes, he already knew that he would be continuously hunted down. Thus, even before the next attempt for his or his allies’ lives came, he would already consider them his enemies.

If he got a chance - any chance - he’d kill them all, for he refused to let them ruin all that he held dear.

Void appeared beside Lilith without a sound. Her steps were slow, unsteady. When her hand came down on Lilith’s shoulder, the white-haired woman flinched.

Lilith turned toward the familiar face before she exhaled. A grimace pulled across her mouth. Then, after a brief pause, she looked back toward Quinlan.

For a few long seconds, the two simply looked at each other again. Two predators watched the other, studying, examining. Then Lilith tore her gaze away and began walking away.

Void followed her without a word.

And just like that, the siege was over.

With Maelstrom’s army arriving from the west, the Fujimori had no choice but to retreat. Their banners disappeared into the haze, their horns fading with distance.

Quinlan stayed still for a moment longer, watching the army vanish, wondering whether Maelstrom would give chase or let them go. Either way, he had done his part.

He was done for today.

Quinlan turned to return to his group, wanting to smile at his girls, proud of how awesome they were. After which he then wanted to rizz them up with a few lines of his, no doubt earning himself many cute puffs and scoffs.

But before he could do that, Quinlan noticed the silence. Thousands of eyes were on him.

On the walls, on the streets below, even from shattered windows and alleyways. Soldiers, officers, children clutching their mothers’ clothes, workers in torn uniforms. Every face was turned his way.

Their eyes told two stories.

Relief.

And fear.

They had seen a man command death itself. They had seen souls rise and obey. No ordinary man could look at that and feel comfort.

Quinlan understood. He always did.

He pointed his finger, and a fireball formed at the tip, then shot upward with a sharp hiss before bursting open far above the fortress.

The explosion burned in gold and orange. Then the flames folded and stretched, reshaping until a single word hung across the sky.

VICTORY.

Gasps rippled through the crowd. Heads tilted back, mouths opened.

Quinlan lifted his fist high.

"We won!"

His voice cut through the air, raw and loud enough for every wall to carry it.

The crowd froze for a moment. Then something shifted. The fear in their eyes began to fade. They looked at the man above them, and realization set in.

They didn’t understand him. They probably never would. But he was fighting for them.

He was a monster, yes, but their monster.

The fortress erupted in cheers.