Primordial Villain with a Slave Harem

Chapter 1298  New Destination

Quinlan's boots hit the last step.

A shift of movement off to his right caught his attention.

Kaelira stood in the yard in striped pajamas dotted with tiny crossed hammers. The fabric hung loose around her frame, the sleeves pushed up unevenly as if she had yanked them herself. Her hair stuck out in several stubborn strands, proof that she had rolled out of bed and stormed here on instinct alone.

Her face, however, carried none of the cuteness her outfit gave her.

Her jaw locked tight.

Her brow pulled into a hard line.

Her eyes flicked toward Liora with the same nasty glare Quinlan had received from Black Fang mere moments ago.

It would've been intimidating if not for the pajamas.

Quinlan slowed, taking in the contrast. The grumpy scowl. The twitching, long ears. The hammer-print attire, sewn by her team members as a present, hoping she'd sleep more if she had such a pajama. It worked, somewhat; the tomboy elf thought the pajamas looked very cool.

Everyone else thought they looked far too adorable, but no one told her yet, ordered by Quinlan himself. He knew she would not wear them if she was aware of what people thought, so everyone was asked to act as if she looked badass in her setup.

Thus far, it worked. Quinlan didn't know how long it would remain as such, though.

She looked like someone who wanted to break an anvil in half but had been forced into sleepwear before she could attempt it.

Adorable. Painfully so.

Liora noticed her captain's glare and returned it without feeling one bit apologetic or submissive toward her superior's rank. She stood beside the group's packs, arranging vials into a neat row. Her movements were measured. Her expression remained calm. Her eyes, however, carried the firm weight of someone who had just survived an argument with a very upset elf.

The reason behind it needed no explanation.

Kaelira shifted her weight and nearly lost her balance. She tried to hide it, but the micro-flinch betrayed her. The marks of exhaustion hadn't finished mending. Her body was knitting itself back together fast, but not fast enough for this morning.

Liora, the person responsible for Kaelira's healing, had stepped in the moment she saw that the elf was not ready to risk her life in battle, especially as the group's tanker.

Quinlan didn't override her decision, knowing it was important to listen to the 'doctor.'

Now the result stood in front of him, glaring at the healer as if sheer irritation could accelerate regeneration.

She noticed him watching. Her ears twitched again. She straightened and tried to muster silent defiance. The pajamas did not help.

Quinlan almost smiled. Almost. It took a great deal of restraint not to crack the most amused of grins.

Quinlan closed the distance in a few steady steps.

Kaelira braced herself, chin lifting in what she clearly hoped was a warrior's stance. It was hard to look fierce in hammer-print pajamas, but she tried her best anyway, hoping he might decide otherwise in the last moment.

But that was not meant to be.

He reached out, hooked a hand behind her head, and pulled her forward.

Her eyes widened.

He planted a firm kiss on her forehead.

Her long ears exploded in color on the spot. Heat rushed down both sides, blooming from the base to the tips. Kaelira stiffened as if she'd been hit with a paralysis spell. The newest addition to his women, and very unused to being touched, let alone in such a manner, and on top of being seen like this, with so many others watching... But Quinlan didn't care about an audience, and she knew it. He was not one to do obscene acts in public, but showing such tender signs of affection was very much his style.

He leaned in, whispering into her ears. "You're resting in bed. Full strength before you join us again. You'll be back on your feet in a few days."

Her lips trembled. Her eyes blinked rapidly. She looked at him, wondering if he was going to step back and give her space.

He didn't.

He grinned instead.

Then kissed the side of her long ear.

"Hie?!" Kaelira yelped, releasing an actual, tiny sound that came out before she could stop it. Her ears went even hotter, turning nearly scarlet. The crowd didn't miss it.

She scrambled for words, tripping over them until her voice finally slipped out. "I… I will listen to your decision…"

Then her expression lit up with a spark. "I'll craft good gear while you're gone!"

"No," Quinlan said.

Her excitement died so fast it was comical.

"You'll not work in the smithy. Liora said bed rest, not hours of hammering in a furnace."

Kaelira's eyes narrowed again, searching for Liora like she wanted round two of their earlier argument. Her nostrils flared. Her jaw set.

She twisted her head, ready to send the priestess another venomous stare, but Quinlan caught her chin between two fingers before she could complete the movement. He guided her attention back toward him with a single pull.

Her glare faltered.

He held her gaze.

Seconds passed.

Just his eyes holding hers, steady and unyielding.

She broke first, sighing dejectedly.

"… Yes. I understand."

Quinlan's lips tugged up into a big smile. He turned her toward the mansion's entrance.

Emily, one of the maids, waited there with a clipboard, papers, and a pencil in hand, posture prim and pleased. She gave Kaelira a bright, knowing smile.

Kaelira's eyes widened.

Blueprints.

Not smithing.

But still work.

Work she loved.

She didn't even try to hide how fast her mood flipped. The fanatic spark returned, wiping out her earlier bitterness completely. She forgot she was mad at Liora. She forgot that half the courtyard was still staring at her. She remembered only one thing:

New ideas.

She bolted toward Emily with a speed that made her pajamas flutter. Quinlan's gaze followed her, settling on the two fiery anvils stitched onto each butt cheek, an addition that had been added at his request when Shallan informed him of the gift they were making for the elf.

He gave it a slow blink.

Then…

"Khm!!"

Coughing.

Multiple coughs.

Perfectly synchronized.

He turned.

Every single one of his women stood there, coughing into their palms in the most suspiciously coordinated manner possible while staring at him with identically dangerous eyes.

Every.

Single.

One.

Except Blossom.

Blossom just stared, smiled happily with her tail wagging rapidly, not sure what was going on. She was just happy to be present and watch her beloved master make a steady woman like Kaelira get flustered.

Quinlan let the silence hang for a beat, feeling many sets of narrowed eyes on his person.

Instead of feeling pressured, he grinned.

A slow, unbothered, absolutely shameless grin.

Their fake hostility didn't move him an inch. Kaelira was already one of his women. Admiring her perky butt, especially when he ordered the anvils stitched on, was well within his rights as their man. He had done nothing wrong, and all of them knew it.

Thus, he ignored them all, and as he did so, realizing their act had been seen through, the many glares faltered before turning into playful grins.

<Quinnie is very sharp!> Kitsara sighed.

<We'll get him next time,> Serika chuckled.

<For sure!> Aurora cheered.

With the fun out of the way, Quinlan stepped forward and lifted his hand.

"[Warp Gate]." Reality thinned. The air trembled, folding in on itself until a dark, swirling oval formed.

A portal, with its end nowhere in the duchy.

Their path was set.

Time to push past the limits that had shackled him for too long.

He looked over his shoulder once and caught all of his women watching him.

Some with heat.

Some with pride.

Some with curiosity, worry, or excitement.

But all of them with certainty.

He stepped through the portal.

The world changed in an instant. The air sharpened. A thrill ran up his spine.

It was time.

Time to farm levels.

Time to break past his bottleneck.

Time to reach fifty.

And then?

The peak.

He exhaled once, letting the corner of his mouth lift again.

"Let's begin."