Primordial Villain with a Slave Harem

Chapter 1260: Armored Monster

Garrett moved through the artifact-illuminated halls with his men close behind.

Around the next corner, a cluster of servants huddled together. The ragtag group included maids, errand boys, and even a cook still clutching a ladle. Their faces were pale, fearing for their lives.

"Lord Garrett," one of the maids stammered, "What should we do? Protocol dictates we should go to the servant bunker, but there are no guards there! We don’t know what to do!"

"Go to the main hall," Garrett ordered.

"But, Lord Garrett..." another whispered with her voice trembling, "servants aren’t allowed there..."

Garrett looked over them, observing these frightened youths with a heavy heart. The guards near the servant part of the castle must’ve already engaged the invaders, leaving none behind to calm the hearts of these innocent children.

His tone softened. "I allow it. If the lords have a problem, tell them you have my blessing. Now move."

"Y-Yes, Lord Garrett!" they chorused, scrambling down the corridor with hurried steps.

"Thank you, Lord Garrett!" the cook shouted.

When their voices faded, his expression hardened again. The flicker of light from his gauntlet reflected the lines of age across his face, but his stride didn’t falter.

He reached the courtyard mere seconds later.

Then, he froze.

Never, in his eight centuries of life, had he seen anything like this.

His men were surrounded. Dozens of guards fought desperately against figures with skin tinted an unnatural blue.

"Hold formation!" one of his lieutenants shouted.

Then something blurred in the skies.

Garrett’s instincts screamed. He glanced up just as a blazing object tore through the dome, trailing fire and smoke.

"Get back!" he barked.

Too late.

The impact shattered the courtyard. A wave of fire exploded outward, swallowing stone and steel alike. Screams filled the air as Winterwood guards were hit. Their armor melted before they hit the ground, followed by the destruction of their now undefended bodies.

The explosion was strong enough to flatten the nearest walls, scattering embers like rain.

Garrett shielded his face and gritted his teeth against the blast.

"What was that?! A meteor fell from the sky!" an elite cried behind him.

The old man lowered his arm and narrowed his eyes.

"That was no meteor."

As the smoke thinned, the courtyard came into view once again.

The previously-pristine courtyard, once alive with birdsong and laughter, was drowned in the agony-filled screams of the dying.

The proud Winterwood gardens, featuring carefully trimmed hedges, silver fountains, and the Count’s prized elms, were gone.

In their place lay scorched stone, molten pools of armor, and twisted human shapes still smoking from the heat. And at the center of the devastation stood... Him.

A man wreathed in flame, the air bending around his obsidian armor streaked with red veins. In one hand, he held a black saber shrouded in crawling blue fire that burned without consuming him.

Then he stomped on the ground.

The impact thundered through the courtyard.

In the next instant, jagged spikes of rock burst from below, hundreds of them, impaling the dead and dying alike. Bodies jerked upright as the spears tore through what remained of their burned armor and flesh, lifting them into the air like grisly banners.

Some were still alive, twitching weakly, gurgling as blood ran down the stone. The ground drank it all, hissing as if feeding on their pain. The man didn’t even glance at them.

When silence returned, the armored figure raised his saber high. His voice was deep and resonant as it rolled through the courtyard like a dark chant.

"[Eternal Damnation]."

A blue radiance tore free from the fallen. Wisps of light came from the corpses and drifted toward the black blade, pulled into it like matter into a black hole. The saber’s flames deepened, flaring hungrily as the last traces vanished within.

Then, finally acknowledging the presence of newcomers, the armored man turned. Two red eyes gleamed behind his dark visor, locking onto Garrett.

The captain’s jaw set. His voice was steady.

"Everyone, ready yourselves. We fight this creature out in the open. If we retreat to the halls, we’ll be burned out like goblins from their caves."

His men, sporting similarly grave expressions, understood their orders and shifted into formation. Garrett lifted his sword, ready to engage in combat.

The armored man began to move toward them.

Each step pressed against the molten ground with a slow, deliberate weight. The air rippled from the heat pouring off him. Behind him, hundreds of blue-skinned soldiers formed ranks.

Garrett’s grip tightened on his sword. Ten elite guards stood at his back, veterans all, each one above level fifty. Against normal foes, they were enough to turn a battlefield. Yet not one of them spoke now.

The enemy didn’t advance with the panic of raiders or the zeal of cultists. They moved like executioners, lax ones at that.

The armored man’s gaze fixed on Garrett alone. That was enough to make the old captain feel the temperature drop. This was a being that didn’t see them as enemies, only as targets.

Just as Garrett was about to issue the command to charge, a low grunt came from behind.

A figure stepped out of the corridor leading deeper into the keep. It was a woman with blue skin and eyes that glowed faintly in the artifact light.

Garrett froze. His throat tightened.

"Scar of the Scarlet Lilies... The one who lost her life... against Black Fang... And Devil."

His gaze snapped back to the black-armored man who kept on leisurely walking toward them.

"Is this Devil...? The Primordial Villain?"

At that word, even the seasoned elites shifted. Their boots scuffed against the stone.

"Scar?!" one whispered. "She was higher level than the Captain when she was alive..."

Another swallowed hard. "And if that’s really Devil... Goddess help us. Rumors didn’t speak about this armor, he became even stronger since the last time..."

Before Garrett could steady their resolve, a soft, teasing voice drifted through the air. "Hubby, you’re so famous now~"

A red-haired woman emerged. Her eyes were marked with pentagrams that glowed brightly. Blood soaked her clothes, still dripping from the blade she held casually at her side. Despite the gore, she smiled joyously.

Garrett knew her too. Dying her hair red did not mean the captain couldn’t recognize the face that was plastered on so many wanted posters.

"Vex the Hexblade..."

She laughed lightly in response, as if the world around her wasn’t burning. Behind her came a dozen more blue-skinned soldiers, but these ones differed slightly in their appearance from the ones behind Devil.

Their blue bodies were more nuanced and developed than the army of the damned, who looked more ghostly, creating more contrast and making it easier to notice differences in their bodies.

In moments, the courtyard was sealed.

Scar stood to the left.

Vex to the right.

And in the center, the Primordial Villain approached.

Garrett knew this was it. Do or die. "Offer your lives for the cause! We either kill them or get killed! You trained your whole lives for this moment! For the Winterwoods!"

"For the Winterwoods!" his soldiers screamed.

The courtyard erupted into chaos. Steel met flame. Then, the world went still.

...

A minute later, Garrett and his dozen elites walked down the halls of the Winterwood estate, now sporting grim expressions and blue skin.