Primordial Villain with a Slave Harem

Chapter 1980: Rookie Adventurers

Quinlan was still in the courtyard outside Celia’s house when the young woman returned with a pack nearly as wide as her shoulders.

They had finished examining her father, and Aurora had written down what they wanted for the expedition. Apparently, Celia had prepared a list of her own. A pot knocked against the doorframe as she squeezed through it.

Serika caught the pack’s lower strap before the girl could lose her balance.

"Were you planning to carry the kitchen too?"

"I’ve been practising every morning!"

"No, this won’t do."

"W-what do you mean?"

"What I just said." Serika removed the heaviest pot and held it out to Quinlan while she adjusted Celia’s straps. He accepted it with a glance at his former teacher.

Apparently, he had volunteered.

"Sure."

Quinlan channelled mana into his pocket ring, and the pot vanished from his hand in a brief flash.

Celia stopped adjusting her strap.

"Eh?"

Her gaze darted from his empty palm to the place where the pot had been. Serika unfastened another from the pack and passed it to him, and that one disappeared too.

"A... a pocket ring?"

Celia stared up at his helmet. She’d been worrying about how much this man and his companions would have to carry, and he had a pocket ring.

An actual pocket ring, which he was using to store her battered cookware.

These people were really, really rich.

"But those are just my cooking things..."

"They’re worth their weight in gold if they’ll help feed the misses," Quinlan mused.

"A-ah! I’ll do my best!"

Quinlan held out his hand for the lid still strapped to her pack. Celia hurried to unfasten it, watching in fascination as he stored that too.

He was so casual about it. Beside him, Serika was already checking what else they could take off her shoulders, as though making a kitchen disappear was the obvious solution to an overfilled pack.

"I appreciate your eagerness, and I’ll do everything I can to help you," Serika told Celia. "But when I look at you, all my danger senses scream at me, telling me I must do something before the worst happens."

"O-oh... I understand..." The girl’s lips trembled as her gaze found her feet.

Serika couldn’t help but smile at the sight, reaching out to pat the girl’s shoulders. "If you listen to me, you’ll be an integral part of the mission without forcing us all to take on unnecessary risks to protect you. Will you do that for me? You can have your cooking items back when it’s time to feed the ’misses’."

She finished her statement while sending Quinlan an amused sideways glance.

Celia’s eyes widened, then she loosened the strap rubbing her hip so Serika could adjust the load. "I’m sorry, I didn’t think of it like that."

Serika’s smile only deepened as she saw the girl understand how reckless her behavior was. "This is why we’re here."

"Are you really rookies...?" the girl couldn’t help but ask.

"Rookie adventurers? Yes. But we might have a bit of relevant experience under our belts."

"A bit, huh..." Celia’s eyes narrowed, going from one extremely competent woman to the next, before landing on Quinlan himself.

Then she bowed deep, in a perfect ninety-degree motion. "Once again, thank you for accepting my quest, Unbound! If I do something reckless, please tell me! I’ll listen to your every word. I’ll be in your care!"

The eagerness with which she spoke her declaration softened quite a few women’s gazes.

"Celia is a very good girl!!" Blossom finally decreed, petting her lush hair with eager motion.

"Hie..." Celia yelped at the unexpected gesture.

...

After saying goodbye to her father and checking the evening arrangements with their neighbour, Celia led them toward the shops surrounding the Guild.

Quinlan had their fifteen-crown share of the provision advance tucked away for their purchases. How much that bought was something he intended to find out before spending it.

The signs along the street offered a useful start. An eating house advertised stew, bread, and watered ale for two bits. Bits seemed to be the bronze coins of Sarthal, but their exact exchange rates he didn’t know.

Farther along, a harpy set a tray of glazed pastries on her stall, where the little slate beside them also read two bits apiece.

Brown flight feathers fanned along her arms as she lowered the tray. Clawed fingers extended from the ends of her wings, deftly taking up a glazing brush while her taloned feet gripped the wooden perch behind the stall.

Quinlan glanced from those birdlike limbs to her face, framed by loose auburn hair.

’A harpy? Weren’t those supposed to be sex fiends too?’ Important matters began swirling in the Primordial Villain’s head, such as, ’How do they compare to a succubus?’

Nyxara’s indignant huff reached him through their bond from his soul realm.

"> <How dare you, my Ruin! Those are ravenous fiends! They’ll descend on a man and drag him off to their nest!>

Quinlan kept walking while she drew herself another offended breath.

"> <My daughters are gorgeous, exquisitely feminine women! We seduce. We enchant. There is no comparison to be had.>

"> <Gorgeous, exquisitely feminine women who are ravenous fiends preying on men. And women. Doesn’t seem that different to me.>

"> <...Your wife is unhappy with your behavior.>

His voice was perfectly flat."> <Goddess have mercy.> His voice was perfectly flat.

"> <...We’ll talk about this later, mister.>

Blossom’s nose twitched.

Quinlan glanced down at her. The dogkin was watching a tray with immense concentration, her blue eyes following the woman as she brushed glaze over the last bun.

Her tail began wagging so hard that Kitsara moved hers out of its path.

Yet Blossom kept walking beside him. She even managed to face forward, although her nose remained firmly interested in what they were leaving behind.

Quinlan felt a smile spread beneath his helmet.

"Give me a moment," he told Celia, turning toward the stall.

Blossom followed him at once.

"Master?"

"Could I have that one?" He indicated the pastry his dogkin had been staring at, then took a crown from his own money.

The harpy caught a paper bag between her claws. When she saw the coin, the feathers along her arms puffed out.

She looked up at his black helmet, then down at the crown again.

"For one bun?"

"Yes."

"You haven’t anything smaller?"

"I’m afraid not."

"Ninety-eight bits in change..." The woman opened her cashbox and peered inside. "You’ve chosen a fine way to empty my till, sir."

"It’s fine." Quinlan was ready to move on, turning, when the woman spoke up again.

"No, no. I can manage."

She counted smaller coins onto the counter with soft clicks of her claws. Quinlan watched her work while the smell of warm pastry drew Blossom closer to his arm.

One hundred bits to a crown, then. A single coin bought fifty of these buns, or fifty meals at the eating house. He could feed someone for quite a while with what he had casually placed on the counter.

And Celia had borrowed three hundred crowns.

The seller pushed his change toward him and slipped the pastry into its bag. Quinlan put the coins away, then offered the treat to Blossom.

"Here."

She stared at it.

"For Blossom?"

"I thought you might like one."

"But Blossom didn’t even ask..."

"I saw what I saw."

She glanced behind herself, where the guilty appendage was doing absolutely nothing to conceal her happiness.

"Master...!"

Blossom took the bag and threw her free arm around his waist, pressing her cheek against him. Her delighted little laugh escaped into his armour while he stroked her blonde hair.

Quinlan had conquered a continent, but buying a bun for this girl still made him feel absurdly accomplished. She was hugging him as though he had brought her the whole damned bakery.

"Blossom loves Master so much!"

"I love you too."

*Whoosh!*

Blossom launched herself off the paving in a golden blur, the rush of her movement whipping Celia’s braid across her shoulder.

"Eh?"

The dogkin planted her free palm on Quinlan’s shoulder and vaulted over it. Her bare legs swept through the air as she arched above him, blonde hair flying behind her.

Quinlan followed the gorgeous curve of her body with considerable interest. His girl was putting on quite a show over a pastry.

With a giggling twist of her hips, Blossom swung a leg over his head and landed astride his shoulders. Her soft thighs hugged either side of his neck, with her calves hanging down his chest.

"Master~!"

He caught her thighs without moving from where he stood. Her tail lashed happily down his back, while the paper bag remained upright in her raised hand.

Celia was still staring at the place where Blossom had been standing.

"H-how did you... Wow..."

Seated above Quinlan’s head, the dogkin was already peeking into her bag.

"Comfortable?"

"Very!"

Blossom drew the bun halfway out of its bag, then rested her free hand on top of his helmet. Her first bite earned a blissful little hum above his head.

He wanted to buy her another already.

Celia led them on to an outfitter near the Guild. Blossom took another delighted bite while Quinlan adjusted his hold on her soft thighs.

Quinlan ducked beneath the outfitter’s doorframe so Blossom wouldn’t hit her head. She folded her ears down anyway, protecting them with the hand holding her pastry.

The Fomorian behind the counter looked up from repairing a pack. Quinlan recognized the blue-gray skin and tusks from the pirates at sea. Here, the man’s lower hands held a torn strap while his upper pair worked an awl and thread through the leather.

His eyes travelled from Quinlan’s armour to the dogkin happily eating on his shoulders.

"...What can I help you with?"