Primordial Villain with a Slave Harem

Chapter 1271: Storm Sovereign’s Judgment!

Morgana raised her right hand.

Lightning gathered above her palm, threading together in rough coils that snapped at the air.

It didn’t form a neat sphere or a tidy bolt. It writhed, loud and temperamental, the way a live wire behaved when the casing broke. The glow lit her face, sharpening her every contour.

"[The Storm Sovereign’s Judgment]!"

The spell dropped from her hand as if it were Zeus himself who decided to smite someone down.

All of the following occurred in less than a second.

Quinlan clapped his palms together. The air snapped inward as raw mana compressed, and earth formed out of nothing but force and intent. A stone wall rose in front of him, thick and uneven.

Morgana’s Judgment crashed down.

The first layer buckled, but Quinlan wasn’t about to be outdone without putting up a proper fight.

New stone slid into existence, reinforcing the break before it could collapse. The second layer blasted apart in a roar of dust. He pulled more earth into shape, bracing the structure and sealing gaps. A third layer followed, then a fourth, each one packed tighter than the last.

Then the spell punched through everything.

Stone atomized. The final layer disintegrated in a blast of white-blue light that swallowed him whole.

Synchra reacted before Quinlan did.

A raw sound, akin to a defiant scream, tore from her core.

The plates in her armor clattered against each other as the red veins inside her flared, releasing an immense amount of flames, bracing for the inevitable impact.

Not willing to be outdone, Quinlan also joined in on the effort.

Quinlan’s stance changed.

His muscles locked.

The air around him compressed.

"Elemental Stance: Stone."

He called upon the ability gained after succeeding in the Zhenwu Trial, gaining the Harbinger of Eons class.

Vitality surged even further. Balance anchored. Stability hardened through his frame as if he’d fused with a mountain itself.

The lightning hit Quinlan’s chest.

Quinlan felt the pressure clamp his ribs. Every muscle in his torso tensed as if a giant hand tried to fold him in half. The light around him whited out. Synchra held for a heartbeat... then two... then the lightning tore through.

Red veins flickered.

A sharp flash ran across her surface.

Then they went dark.

The bolt struck his chest. His body jolted from the force. Heat crawled up his skin. A dull ache settled deep in his sternum, but it was manageable, especially for the man who lived through the torture that was the Iris childhood simulation.

Quinlan was very well acquainted with pain.

When the light cleared, he was still upright.

His breathing steadied. The armor sagged, lifeless without her red glow. He lowered his hand and pressed his palm against one of the plates. It burned with leftover heat from the strike she took for him.

"You protected me..." he muttered.

Synchra didn’t respond, which was very unlike her. This piece of armor, birthed from his and Kaelira’s energies, used to be a very animated entity, especially for something that should be a lifeless tool of war.

But now, there was not a flicker. Not a pulse of light. Nothing at all.

"... What?" Morgana whispered in utter disbelief.

This man was never a tank.

Never someone who stood still and took hits.

The last time she saw him, he needed Yoruha to protect them, or she knew he would’ve folded like paper.

Back at the banquet, he might’ve been somewhat of a passable fighter, for his measly levels, which she guessed were in the high fifties.

But now... He took a strong spell of hers head on?

Since when?

When did he get strong enough? While his Magic did increase, it was only marginal. Something that a few level-ups could achieve.

But then, from where did he get so much Vitality on top?!

She knew that the armor did the heavy lifting, but based on its current state, the spell went through. He himself had to tank a good portion of it with his own body’s natural resistances.

To do that, he needed... "How much Vitality do you have?! You reached level 70 already?!"

She screamed, half angry and half crazed. Her eyes, already keen, began swirling with unhinged mania. This woman was more intent on studying him than ever before.

But what the Queen didn’t know was that the man she was facing right now was only in the mid 40s.

How would he compare to the continent’s top combatants once he actually reached their level?

However, confusion lasted only a moment.

Because Morgana wasn’t about to back down.

While Quinlan’s elites fought the enemies behind Morgana, he turned mid-air and shot toward the noble estate looming in the distance, the exact same one he shot up from with so much flair not long ago.

Air wrapped around his ankles and spine as he pulled every thread of wind he could manage, forcing it into raw acceleration.

"I won’t let you run away again!" Morgana shouted.

She broke formation without a moment’s pause. The air beneath her boots detonated in a sharp burst as she launched forward, a streak of white-blue chasing him. The shift snapped the focus she held over her allies. The air currents holding them steady thinned to threads.

The group lurched mid-air.

Lilith barked, "Hold the damn spell, you lunatic! We’ll fall!"

Morgana didn’t even look back. Her grin cut across her face like she was running downhill with nothing to brake her.

"If I defeat their master, the minions will drop! And you have your ally, don’t you?"

"You’re forcing Void to focus on this instead of finishing her ambush?!"

Just then, a tongue’s clicking could be heard as Void, who blinked to the side to avoid Quinlan’s attention, was forced to turn around lest her team fall to the depths below.

She summoned her spatial tethers, catching them all.

Ignoring her sister and everyone else, Morgana shot after Quinlan.

They collided in a struggle of force and counterforce. Quinlan pulled wind behind him in long, hard bursts, each blast throwing him forward.

Morgana pulled wind around him in tight circular pressure, slowing his limbs and dragging at his balance. Their spells slammed against each other, twisting the air between them.

Quinlan felt immense pressure due to her interference with his flight, making it feel as though a giant hand was trying to grasp him, so that he stopped in his tracks.

It took a great deal to resist, but even then, his speed was greatly thwarted.

Her fingers flicked upward.

A quick spell. A simpler one. Pure lightning with no flourish.

The bolt struck him square in the back.

Quinlan’s body locked. Pain roared through his nerves. His arms curled inward by reflex. His teeth ground together hard enough to scrape. He forced himself to keep the wind spell active anyway, even as his muscles spasmed under him.

Another yard. Another burst of air. The estate grew larger.

He dragged himself forward on instinct more than control.

"Watch out!" Lilith’s voice cut across the battlefield.

Morgana stiffened. She refocused her attention and saw it.

Ahead, on the rooftop of the estate, a woman stood at the highest point of the structure.

Black attire with purple hues. A still posture. One hand resting on the hilt of her katana.

Her purple eyes burned with a sharp, rising light. The kind that warned everyone who understood swordplay that the next movement would cut through anything in her path.

Her fingers tightened around the hilt with a precise measure.

A thin glow traced the blade inside its sheath.

Then she drew.

A single clean quickdraw, aimed straight at Morgana.