Primordial Villain with a Slave Harem

Chapter 1401  First Arrival

Quinlan stood at the center of the primordial village with the primordials gathered around him.

They formed a loose semicircle facing the space Quinlan had cleared, spacing themselves. Some stood with arms folded, others rested their weight on one leg, yet every gaze stayed fixed on the same point. Their bodies carried the calm confidence of beings who had fought wars that never made it into mortal record. But at the same time, an undeniable wave of excitement rolled over the gathered men and women. Aside from the select few who met Serika and Feng when Quinlan returned from the Zhenwu trial, these beings had not met a mortal in a very, very long time.

Quinlan reached inward and anchored the connection. His soul responded at once, the inner realm aligning with the outer without strain. The air ahead of him thickened, pressure settling into a defined boundary. A vertical seam formed.

The doorway opened cleanly.

"Hoh," Zen, the human male primordial with eastern features, whistled. "Now this is new."

Kiryssa looked at Quinlan while placing a finger on her chin, looking rather adorable. The gap between her sharp, drawn features and her antics in this moment created a great contrast. "I am perplexed. Would you explain yourself to this poor old woman, child? She is lost."

Vaelor was quick to scoff. "Stop acting like that, it's weird."

"Whatever could you possibly mean?" The drow woman sent a very meaningful side-eye glance to her partner.

The meaning of her silent message was lost on the man, who shrugged. "I'm used to you tearing limbs apart until you get the answer you desire. Not… This." He pointed at her finger on her chin. Clear distaste was written on his expression.

"…" Kiryssa narrowed her eyes into fiery slits, then ignored the man.

But she, too, was ignored by the target of her question.

Instead, it was only Miri and Lumi beaming like the proudest of mothers who told the drow that at least this wasn't a new development.

However, not even the mothers explained themselves, for they were far too excited about what was to come, evidenced by them swaying from side to side next to Quinlan as if they might just find the only angle that lets them see into the soul realm.

That did not happen.

Quinlan kept his focus on the open seam, then spoke without raising his voice. However, his words arrived not in this realm, but in the one in his soul.

"Come through one at a time, ladies. As we discussed, the harmful energies here linger. The primordials will coat you as you arrive. If several of you cross together, that can lead to complications."

He stopped there.

No further direction followed. Quinlan let the connection hold and waited, curious who would decide to move first.

Behind him, the primordials were already in place, having decided on who would take on the coating duty first.

Malakar stepped forward instantly with a low grunt, already rolling his shoulders as if settling into a familiar task. He took a seat on the stone edge closest to the doorway, closed his eyes, and refused to elaborate. It seemed the grumbly old man was more than happy not to interact with anyone.

Quinlan couldn't help but wonder if the old bastard was a hopeless tsundere.

Beside him sat the female dwarf.

Her name was Sivra.

Unlike her partner Björn, whose hands shaped what others used, Sivra worked deeper than most ever dared. She was an extractor, a miner who read stone the way others read weather. Fault lines, pressure seams, traces of rare ore buried behind layers of dead rock. She found them all. Back when they lived on Thalorind, time and again, she brought Björn materials no forge could replace, and together they produced artifacts that endured millions of years of use, becoming the greatest treasures of the modern world.

Sivra adjusted her gloves, thick fingers flexing once before she folded her hands together. Her eyes stayed on the doorway, steady and focused.

The third figure lowered herself with care.

Hyrmara settled onto the ground with a controlled motion that barely stirred the dust despite her large size. The giantess placed her palms flat against the ground, breath even, posture aligned. The markings along her arms caught the light as she focused inward.

Hagnar took one step after her, then another. "I will help too!" The gentle giant boomed.

"Absolutely not!" Hyrmara decreed without turning her head. "Forget about it."

Hagnar froze mid-stride. His shoulders sagged a little. "But I also-"

"You are too excited," she replied.

"No, I'm not-" "Your hands shake when you are excited."

Hagnar looked down. And saw reality for what it was.

"Oh…"

Hyrmara finally looked at him. "You will talk to them. You will enjoy that. When you are finished enjoying that, we can switch."

The giant scratched the back of his neck, then nodded. "Okay…"

Quinlan noted the exchange while keeping his focus steady. The way Hyrmara spoke to her partner, or rather husband, was very gentle and caring, despite having just slapped him so firmly he faceplanted.

It wasn't quite clear to Quinlan if most of the pairs were still officially together, such as the eastern humans or the drows. With them, it was hard to tell.

But the giantess clearly called Hagnar her husband, so Quinlan could only guess they remained faithful through thick and thin.

With Malakar, Sivra, and Hyrmara seated and already concentrating, the space in front of the doorway cleared.

The connection held firm.

It was time.

The seam rippled.

Quinlan felt the shift before he saw her. The pressure along the boundary adjusted, weight redistributing as something crossed the threshold with intent rather than hesitation.

His mouth curved into a small smile. Of course, it would be her.

Ayame stepped through first.

The first woman who stole his heart, his beloved samurai, his firm right-hand woman.

She moved with the same measured control she carried everywhere, posture straight, footing precise as her boots met foreign ground. There was a brief flicker as Malakar's hand lifted before she even stepped through the portal properly, fingers spreading through the air in a practiced motion. Power settled around her at once, unseen yet absolute, sinking into skin, breath, and bone without resistance.

Ayame did not flinch. She registered it, accepted it, and continued forward.

Quinlan watched her as she cleared the doorway. Despite being the youngest among his harem members, she carried herself with a steadiness that held even under this kind of pressure. Many would've had a nervous attack in her stead, being the first to step onto the land of primordials. But she didn't.

Ayame stopped a few paces in and lowered her head into a formal bow.

"My name is Ayame Fujimori," she said, voice even and clear. "I greet the progenitors."

The response was immediate.

Zen and Hanae raised an eyebrow and smiled together in perfect sync, but it wasn't them who made the loud reaction.

Lumi and Miri instantly clapped, hands coming together with delighted speed. The sound echoed through the village, light and sharp, followed by the scrape of feet against the earth as both women moved.

They vanished from Quinlan's sides in a blur.

Ayame couldn't even react, despite her sharp warrior instincts.

By the time her eyebrows rose and her instincts kicked in, the pair were already standing right before her. However, the tension quickly dissolved when the pair of turbo-excited women's voices began overlapping in bright, rapid chatter.

"We're Luminara and Mearie," Lumi said, already reaching out.

"Your husband's mothers," Miri added at the same time, taking Ayame's other hand without waiting for permission.

Their grips were warm and utterly unconcerned with formality.

Ayame straightened fully, hands held on both sides, caught between them. "You look just like Quinnie showed us!" Lumi chirped, leaning in, eyes moving over Ayame's face with open interest.

"Even better in person!" Miri agreed, nodding as if confirming a long-held theory. "So composed. So steady. So beautiful!"

They exchanged a glance, then smiled wider.

"No wonder Quinnie fell for such a lovely girl like you," Lumi said, squeezing Ayame's hand.

Ayame stiffened.

For half a breath, she simply stood there with both hands held, eyes flicking between the two women as their voices washed over her. The attention came fast and from too close, praise layered atop praise and endless chatter atop endless chatter without pause.

Then she exhaled.

Her shoulders eased. The corner of her mouth twitched.

She gently but firmly pulled her hands free and took a small step back. Her arms crossed beneath her delicate chest. She turned her head to the side, gaze angled away, lips flattening into a dry line. She refused to meet with them.

"Mothers," she said evenly. "I hear a lot of praise right now, but…" Her eyes slid back to them for half a second. The stare the duo were given was very accusatory. "Didn't you deem me unfit to birth your son's children?"