Primordial Villain with a Slave Harem

Chapter 1971: Just a Joke

"Let him go."

She withdrew her claw and released the fistful of hair. Harl sagged forward with a sob, his greasy collar dragging across the soaked sleeve as the healer knelt beside him and pulled folded cloth from his bag.

"Hold still. Let me put pressure on it."

Harl’s scream broke halfway through when the cloth met exposed flesh.

"Treat him here," the Guildmaster told the healer. "Bring him up when he can be moved."

Then he addressed the women gathered behind the table.

"Anyone they have threatened or put their hands on, please stay and give your account."

"Finally doing something..." the short-haired woman muttered, eyes narrowed. "I’ve got plenty to tell you."

Ayame lowered her katana, and Scar pulled her daggers free of Dask’s coat before sheathing them. He lurched out of his chair, flinching when his accuser stepped into his path.

"Mind where you’re walking," she said.

"Ugh..." Crooked-nosed Dask went around her with his head down. A sharp laugh followed him toward the stairs, joined by another when Brennic nearly slipped in the beer beneath his seat, blond hair falling across his wet eyes.

"Almost Grade Three!" a woman howled after them. "Make sure you tell him how important you are!"

Quinlan looked down at the remaining empty line. They still needed a party name.

They had crossed the sea together, finally free to go wherever they pleased. He wanted a name that belonged to all of them.

"> <Unbound?>

"> Ayame returned to his side, sliding her katana into its sheath. <I like that.>

"> <So does Blossom!>

The others agreed through the link. Quinlan wrote Unbound on the sheet, signed beneath it, then gathered the forms and offered them across the counter.

"How much do we owe you?"

She stared at the papers.

"For..."

"Registration."

Although Quinlan wasn’t rich by any measure that ignored the entire continent he owned, he had looted the pirates, so he had a few coins to his name.

"Waive their registration fees," the Guildmaster told the clerk while walking up the stairs.

His gaze moved to Quinlan and his companions.

"You should have been able to register here without being harassed. Please accept that much as an apology."

"Oh! Yes, sir." The clerk looked back at Quinlan. "We normally charge each new member, but you and your companions won’t owe anything today."

Her voice dwindled while she reached for the stack. Quinlan held it within easy reach until she managed to take it.

"I appreciate the gesture."

The Guildmaster inclined his head to Quinlan before following Brennic and Dask upstairs.

The clerk bent over the forms. Behind Quinlan, the healer asked another adventurer to help hold the dressing in place while he wound a bandage around Harl’s injured arm.

She checked the final entries, stamped their sheets, and began setting identification badges on the counter. Her hands shook so badly that one landed face down. She hurriedly turned it over, exposing the numeral marking its owner as Grade One.

"These are yours. Please present them when accepting work or claiming payment. And..."

Her eyes strayed toward the bloody table.

"Congratulations on becoming adventurers!"

The welcome came out painfully bright over Harl’s sobbing.

Quinlan chuckled.

"Thank you. You’ve been very helpful."

Quinlan took his badge, then stepped aside so his companions could reach the counter. The clerk called each name on their forms and handed its owner a Grade One badge, checking them off until every member of Unbound had received one.

Blossom turned hers over between her fingers, her tail wagging as Serika tucked her own away.

Lilith stepped up to the desk with the other Lilies gathering behind her.

"Our turn. We’re the Scarlet Lilies, five members. Could we register under that name?"

"Certainly. I’ll need a form from each of you."

The clerk passed fresh sheets across the counter. Lilith filled in the party name while Bronnya, Jallen, Scar, and Void began their own entries, sharing the pens between them.

Quinlan finally turned away from the desk.

The healer was still bent over his patient. Farther back, a server had set her tray down to right the overturned bench, and the women who remained were watching Unbound make room for the next party.

Vex stood beside Quinlan with her new badge in one hand, still glaring at the stairs. He settled his hand on her white hair.

"That was quite the speech."

She looked up at him, the fury lingering for a moment before she registered the affection in his touch. His fingers stroked her head, and her lips parted in a delighted little smile.

"Hubby~ It felt so good!"

The murderous hexwitch leaned into his palm. She sheathed her sword and put her badge away, her eyes shining with happiness as she slipped an arm around his and pressed close to her husband.

"Welcome to Sarthal!"

The woman who had first spoken up lifted her mug toward them. Others cheered with her, and someone began clapping hard enough to turn heads at the stairs.

"About fucking time someone put those creeps in their place!"

The relief in their laughter was enormous. Women who had watched the men leer at them across this hall could finally point and laugh back, with Harl whimpering into a bloody dressing a few steps away.

Quinlan found himself surrounded as they came over to greet his family. Vex held his arm firmly while a woman carrying a bow stopped in front of Blossom, staring at her hands.

"How did you get behind him so fast? I was looking straight at you!"

Blossom’s tail started wagging even faster.

"Blossom is very fast!"

"Oh my Goddess, you’re so adorable!" she giggled, surprised by the speech pattern and violent tail motions. Then she realized what Blossom had just said. "I noticed you’re fast! But... he hadn’t even stood up."

"He was slow. Fat and drunk!!"

"Ahahaha!" the woman burst into laughter, followed by her comrades.

Beside them, another adventurer was asking Ayame about her draw.

"Did you know he was going for his sword? I only saw your blade when it was already under his chin."

"His eyes moved toward the hilt," Ayame answered, smiling. "After that, it was rather obvious."

"Obvious to you, maybe! Tracking someone’s eyes from across the room with such precision in under a moment’s time... That’s crazy impressive!"

The woman laughed, then turned to Quinlan.

"And you didn’t even turn around! That spell... How did you cut only his arm?"

"I aimed for it."

"Oh, well, that explains everything!"

Lucille laughed at the woman’s exasperation. The gathering pressed closer, full of questions now that the blades had been put away.

"How strong are those three, actually?" Aurora asked. "Their grades evidently weren’t much to boast about."

"Their levels are around seventy," the woman with the mug replied. "They remind us often enough. Especially anyone who hasn’t got that far yet."

Quinlan blinked in surprise, and he wasn’t alone.

Seraphiel gasped."> <That high?!> Seraphiel gasped.

"They’re too fond of staying alive to take work that might actually test them. Easy jobs, over and over, until the Guild has a mountain of completed contracts to review."

She rolled her eyes toward the stairs.

"Most people their level who actually put some effort into adventuring would reach Grade Three in a few years. Those idiots have spent an entire century trying to get there."

"Then they sit here boasting about it," the archer added. "As though everyone ought to be impressed."

Quinlan heard her, but his attention had gone to Black Fang.

She stood beside the counter with her weapon untouched. The commotion had failed to give her anything worth drawing it for.

Level seventy-four.

Those men were supposed to be close to her. A handful of levels separated them from a woman who could have slaughtered their entire table before any of them realized she had moved.

Ayame repeated through the link. Her gaze had found Black Fang too. "> <Around seventy...?> Ayame repeated through the link. Her gaze had found Black Fang too. <I could barely feel him resisting my blade.>