Primordial Villain with a Slave Harem

Chapter 1982: Into the Wilderness

Quinlan left Sarthal through its southern gate the following morning, with Celia walking beside Serika and Marielle’s new blue robe fluttering ahead of them.

The mage had arrived at Celia’s house wearing it. She’d been wearing it when the neighbour wished them a safe journey, when the guards checked their contract, and when a passing woman complimented the embroidery.

That last encounter had delayed their departure considerably.

"A lovely piece, isn’t it?" Marielle lifted her sleeve as they passed beyond the gate’s shadow. "The temperature adjusts beneath my travelling clothes too. I barely felt the morning chill."

Kaelira glanced at Quinlan.

He could see the smith fighting a smile. She’d put a great deal of care into those tiny runes, and having someone appreciate the work was clearly pleasing her, even when that someone was a dumb cunt.

"I’m glad you like it," he said.

"I do. You should tell its maker that they have excellent taste."

"I’ll be sure to pass it on."

Marielle smoothed the pale fabric over her hips before looking at Lucille.

"It really is a shame you never got to wear it."

"You seem to be enjoying it enough for both of us, dear."

"Well, someone should. There’s no sense leaving a thing like this in a box."

She turned away with a satisfied little smile. Beside Quinlan, Lucille slipped her hand through his arm and squeezed hard enough for him to feel it through his armour.

"> <What a gem she is.>

He chuckled as the road carried them between low field walls. Ahead, the southern hills rose beyond strips of cultivated land, their exposed slopes broken by dark stands of trees."> <I’m enchanted.> He chuckled as the road carried them between low field walls. Ahead, the southern hills rose beyond strips of cultivated land, their exposed slopes broken by dark stands of trees.

Celia had her bow on her back and a much smaller pack than she’d had yesterday. The enchanted lantern hung from its side, where she kept checking the fastening Kaelira had adjusted for her that morning.

"Does it pull?" Serika asked.

"No. It’s much better. Thank you."

"Good. Tell me if that changes."

"If we’re finished discussing straps," Marielle said, "perhaps we can establish how this expedition will proceed. Yesterday gave me certain concerns."

Quinlan looked toward her.

"Did it?"

"I accepted responsibility for your party. That means when I tell you something, I expect you to listen. We cannot stop for a debate every time one of your women has a different idea."

Marielle slowed until she was walking beside him, obliging Lucille to move around a puddle at the road’s edge.

"We’re going into dangerous ruins, Adventurer Black. This isn’t an outing for you and your girlfriends."

"Wives," Vex corrected pleasantly from his other side.

"How fortunate for you. Perhaps you could remember you’re adventurers as well."

Quinlan rested his hand over Lucille’s where it held his arm.

"We’re here to investigate what happened to Celia’s father. If one of my wives notices something useful, I intend to listen."

"And if I tell you it’s irrelevant?"

"Then I will ignore you."

Andre exhaled through his nose. "Oh, Goddess..."

Marielle’s gaze flicked toward her husband before returning to the black helmet.

"No, you won’t. I won’t let you."

"Okay."

Kitsara coughed into her hand. Marielle looked at the foxkin, whose innocent expression survived for the entire length of the inspection.

"We’ll see how talkative you are when something tries to eat you."

She strode ahead to join Andre. Quinlan watched the embroidered hem sweep above the dust without catching in it.

Kaelira told him."> <The clearance is good,> Kaelira told him.

"> <Beautiful work.>

"> <Thank you... You too.>

The shy pleasure in her voice made him smile beneath his helmet. He reached back, and she placed her hand in his for a brief squeeze before Celia asked her about the lantern’s shutter.

They left the fields behind as the road began climbing. Andre took out the map where it divided around a rocky ridge, checking the faded marker set beside the narrower path.

"This way. The old survey road."

Blossom sniffed the air beyond his shoulder.

"There are spiders ahead."

"How many?" Serika asked her.

"Blossom can’t tell yet. The wind keeps changing."

Marielle tapped her staff against the marker.

"Then perhaps you could tell us something useful when it stops."

Blossom’s ears dipped. Quinlan turned his helmet toward the mage.

"A warning about what we’re walking toward seems useful to me."

"We already knew to expect spiders."

"Now we know they’re ahead."

"Wonderful. Shall I pet her?"

"Not if you want to keep your hand."

His voice had lost its amusement. Marielle met his stare for a moment, then turned toward the path Andre had chosen.

"Fine. Keep your scout ahead of us, then. Somewhere she can do her job."

Blossom looked up at Quinlan. He brushed his fingers over one blonde ear.

"Ignore this miserable wench."

"Excuse me?!" Marielle stomped, shrieking gutturally.

"Of course, Master!"

Blossom hurried ahead, her tail already lifting again. Marielle watched her go before giving Quinlan another appraising look.

"What level are you, anyway?"

"Who knows?"

Marielle stopped walking, forcing Andre to turn back toward her.

"You don’t know your own level?"

Quinlan passed her without answering. Lucille stayed on his arm, stepping over a root while Marielle hurried to catch up.

"Oh, don’t tell me you’re embarrassed."

He glanced at her, then returned his attention to the path.

"Goddess preserve me..." She pressed her fingers to the circlet. "And here I thought you were experienced fighters who had neglected their Guild records. Which of you is the strongest?"

Her gaze settled on Black Fang, who continued studying the wooded slope.

"Did you hear me? You, black hair. I’m talking to you."

Marielle waited for the assassin to turn toward her. When Black Fang kept walking, the mage looked at Andre with her mouth hanging open.

"We accepted an entire nursery, and they think they can be rude to us."

"Marielle," he muttered.

"What? We’re both approaching a hundred! They’re Grade One and too ashamed to admit their levels!"

Her eyes returned to Quinlan’s armour, then travelled over the women’s equipment as she touched the circlet again. She smiled as she supplied the explanation none of them had offered her.

"Damned rich weaklings."

No one replied, so she kept going.

"Money won’t make up for experience down there. You’d do well to remember that."

Quinlan watched Blossom bound over a fallen branch ahead of them. Beside him, Lucille’s fingers tightened around his arm again.

This time, she was trying not to laugh.

By midday, the path had brought them to a stream beneath an overhang. Celia recognized the place from her notes and hurried ahead to check the dry ground beside it.

"We can stop here! There’s room to sit, and... Oh, the hearth’s still here too."

She pointed at a ring of blackened stones, then looked hopefully toward Quinlan.

"Could I have my things, please?"

He returned her cookware from his pocket ring. She caught the pot by both handles, still looking faintly astonished at how easily it appeared, then knelt beside the hearth.

"I can have something ready while you rest."

"We’re stopping already?" Marielle asked.

"We’ve been walking all morning," Serika replied. She stretched her arms above her head before settling on a dry rock. "I could eat."

Blossom appeared beside Celia with a bundle of fallen twigs.

"Blossom can help!"

"Thank you! Could you put those here?"

Within minutes, Celia had a fire crackling beneath the pot. She sliced dried meat into the water, added vegetables from her pack, and crumbled herbs between her fingers while the broth began to steam.

Quinlan sat against the overhang with Ayame leaning on his shoulder. The samurai had closed her eyes, enjoying the shade, while Kitsara complained to Vex about burrs in her tails.

"That’s because you keep dragging them through the bushes."

"I have five, you heartless woman. Where would you like me to put them? Up my butt?"