Primordial Villain with a Slave Harem

Chapter 1315  Time to Talk

Iris, face buried and burning, muttered something completely incoherent into Quinlan, something that sounded suspiciously like a threat of violence toward painters, princesses, and possibly the entire human race.

Quinlan looked down at the top of her head, utterly disarmed.

This woman was unpredictable, impossible, and unfairly adorable all at once.

He rested his hand on her hair, patting it gently a few times before stroking it.

Her growl softened… very slightly.

Or perhaps not at all. Quinlan had to note that she was a lot less receptive to headpats than Blossom when she started pouting because he implied that she is akin to a dog, which was something that Blossom did not like to hear one bit, often bringing up the fact that he is in love with his dog.

But after a few good headpats, her tail would once again begin wagging with brimming energy. Truly, those were the qualities of the one and only bestest girl.

Ria watched everything, from the princess pressed into him, to Lyra's timid lean, to the badass beast of a woman turning flustered, and felt her knees weaken again.

"Ria… Stop staring…" Iris growled, but the blonde couldn't help but not feel the need to fall in line as she tended to do any other time Iris spoke up. Nevertheless, she decided to obey her captain… For now. Mostly because she had something even better to gawk at. She returned to watching Quinlan with starry eyes.

Quinlan let out a slow breath of amusement, brushed a last stroke through Iris's hair, then lifted his eyes toward the final girl.

Feng Jiai.

The architect of this entire adventure. Quinlan's expression shifted into a wide grin as he looked at her.

"Well," he said, voice warm, "that was one heck of a ride, wasn't it? Did you have fun?"

Feng's breath hitched the moment she realized something.

There was not a hint of accusation in his entire being - not in his words, not in his posture. He was genuinely curious if she had fun on their adventure without a hint of mockery in his tone about how it all ended.

Her eyes welled in an instant. She bowed, sharply, ninety degrees. "I'm sorry… everyone… I almost ruined your lives! And I'm sorry, Quinlan. You were right. I'm a useless brat way over my head-"

His smile thinned. He stepped forward and reached for her chin, lifting it enough to stop the bow.

"I called you a brat," he corrected. "I never called you useless."

Her breathing grew uneven, but she met his eyes.

"You're young, yet you've gotten to experience and see things in these months that some warriors only face at the end of their lives. You survived them. You learned from them. There's nothing to hang your head over. Just make sure you don't repeat the same mistakes."

Feng swallowed hard.

Iris finally lifted her face from Quinlan's chest and stepped back. "Stop talking like you're responsible for us all. We agreed to go with you. And it was me who made the calls throughout the whole time, not you."

Lyra gave a small nod. Felicity did too.

Feng looked between them, searching their expressions.

There was not a flicker of blame.

Not even a faint bit of resentment.

Felicity stepped forward, her smile bright. "I was terrified," she admitted, leaning right back into Quinlan's arm like it was the most natural thing in the world. "But now that we're safe? I'm so glad we did it. I learned so much! More than I ever would've in the palace. Decades there wouldn't match these few months."

Feng's throat tightened. Her eyes glossed again. Having friends like these only made the knot in her chest pull tighter.

Quinlan gave her shoulder two slow pats.

"We live and learn, Feng Jiai."

Feng tried to nod, but guilt still clung to her face. Her shoulders stayed tight. Her eyes kept staring at her feet.

Quinlan caught that and exhaled. "Alright," he said, stepping back from the cluster of girls. "Come with me, Feng. Let's have a talk. Just the two of us."

Her breath hitched. She lifted her head, wide-eyed, then gave a timid nod and shuffled after him, though it looked as though she firmly believed speaking was meaningless, as she was clearly at fault. If they were to speak, then it should be about how dumb a decision she made, not how it wasn't her fault. But Quinlan did not care.

A nearby soul soldier stepped forward. She was a female Fujimori soldier. Her movements were steady and crisp as faint wisps of blue drifted from the gaps in her armor. She raised her arm and unlocked the cell door with a clean click.

Quinlan stepped out first. Feng followed with small steps and her hands gripped together at her stomach.

Side by side, they began walking down the corridor.

The ongoing fight filled the place like a story etched into the floor. Bones lay scattered everywhere, spines cracked into segments, skulls split down the center, ribs kicked to the corners. The undead sentries had poured into this belly of the moving fortress with everything they had, only to meet a wall of soul soldiers and mortal blades.

Furthermore, his subordinates and allies had adapted quickly.

Steel sliding through empty ribcages did nothing.

Slashing did even less.

So they improvised.

Ayame stood ahead, mid-swing. Her katana remained sheathed as she whipped it sideways like a club, accompanied by a grunt of effort. "Hn!" The strike connected with a skull, sending the whole body collapsing in a clatter of bones. She turned her wrist and struck again before the fragments even settled.

A Fujimori soul nearby spun its spear around and gripped the blunt end. It drove that end through a spine with a clean crack, then stomped the fallen skeleton apart with mechanical efficiency.

And Lucille…

Lucille was having the time of her life.

She was currently brandishing a long femur in both hands - one she picked from the remains of her slain enemy - raising it overhead like an improvised warhammer. She slammed it down on a crawling skeleton trying to get up, shattering it completely. Her grin widened. She lifted the bone again, already aiming at the next.

The berserker in her was clawing more and more free with every hit.

Feng stared at the sight. This was the first time she saw how people fought skeletal enemies, and it was a very strange sight to behold. But Quinlan kept walking. He didn't comment on the madness behind them. He simply guided her forward.

They reached the staircase leading out of the prison floor. The air grew clearer the closer they came. The echo of bone against metal faded as they stepped onto the first stair.

Together, they started up, leaving the cell block behind.