Primordial Villain with a Slave Harem

Chapter 1018: Mission: Stay Calm

Young men sneered behind polished masks of etiquette. Their mothers stared in disbelief. Their fathers frowned, calculating.

How had this stranger with no name managed to get an invitation—no, the favor—of the famously aloof princess? The very same girl who had rejected every dance request with one bad excuse after the other? Who declined all outings, ignored all court letters, and once refused to even speak to the son of a marquis because he ”smelled like boiled goose.”

Now she was bringing a masked stranger and his stunning, exotic harem to her father’s birthday celebration as if they were old friends?

Jealousy flared.

That’s when some guests began to notice... the collars.

Gasps turned to scowls.

”Is that...? Are they slaves?”

”They’re wearing slave collars. That’s certainly not a fashion trend.”

”What is the princess thinking?!”

”To bring them here... how tasteless! I feel the urge to vomit.”

The air bristled with judgment and badly veiled outrage.

And then, as expected, one voice rose above the rest, utterly lacking in restraint.

It belonged to a round, doughy-faced nobleman in bejeweled robes, a few sizes too tight and a ridiculous gold-plated cravat. He pointed rudely toward the group and said with a full mouth of stuffed cake:

”Mom, why was I not allowed to bring Tuil here? Now I’m craving her elvish warmth after looking at that elf whore. Damn! Her hips are even wider than Tuil’s... Mom, I want to lie with this elf. Make it happen.”

His elderly mother gasped in horror and struck his hand down with her fan.

”Weylon! Hush your tongue! The King and Queen are so powerful, they could hear us all the way from the throne!”

Weylon rolled his eyes and huffed. ”So what? I’m speaking about a slave... I did nothing illegal or even rude.”

Still, he spoke less loudly now, though not by much. His eyes never left Seraphiel’s bountiful feminine assets.

At the same time, two more of his friends ogled Blossom and Kitsara, respectively, harboring similar thoughts.

Quinlan, meanwhile, said nothing, though his possessive heart was beginning to feel emotions he truly shouldn’t entertain in this dangerous setting. As the king so magnanimously let them know, they were outside their element here. The Quinlan Elysiar, or rather Devil, who could go all out any time he so desired while also enjoying the backing of not only the drug department led by Black Fang but also the dogkin people, didn’t exist here. ṝ𝔞₦Ȯ𝔟Èŝ

He was Lord Black, a noble from dubious origins.

As such, he forced himself to smile beneath his mask, no matter how difficult he found it to. Blossom’s, Kitsara’s, and Seraphiel’s words, ringing in his mind about them not caring for their crude remarks, only helped a little bit.

The girls could already sense where the night was headed.

This was no longer a party.

It was a battlefield they had to survive without letting their man cause a travesty due to his immensely powerful emotions held toward them.

They moved forward beneath the eyes of hundreds. Quinlan and his companions stepped in time behind Felicity with their heads held high despite the mounting scrutiny, and many calming lullabies were sung directly into Quinlan’s mind.

At the far end of the hall, on a raised platform draped in velvet embroidery, the royal throne awaited. The King sat at its center. Even in this setting, his presence was immensely heavy. Beside him, regal and untouchable, sat the Queen of the Vraven Kingdom.

And behind them stood the royal children.

All of them.

Felicity’s siblings.

Two princes and two princesses, each cut from imperial stone. Posture perfect, expressions schooled, outfits tailored by the realm’s finest.

Even Elisabeth had made it.

Now called Dawn Breaker, the Arch Priest stood in full ceremonial garb with her armor impossibly polished. A divine air clung to her. No longer the sister of a princess, but a legend in the priesthood, an enforcer of the divine, slayer of the wicked, and the voice of holy will.

How could she emit so much aura despite being far from the nearest church? After all, Arch Priests were supposed to become weaker the farther away they were from the temples.

There was one explanation, or rather, an item made by the Goddess herself. The armor Dawn Breaker wore held a portion of her divinity, acting as a mobile battery. This way, the woman could fight at full strength no matter the location. However, only three such armors existed in the whole continent. Two were held by the Vraven Kingdom’s churches, and the last by Elvardia’s.

Despite the majesty of the woman and her armor, she didn’t manage to capture Quinlan’s attention as much as she did. None of the siblings did.

Queen Morgana.

His gaze found her immediately. He hadn’t meant to seek her out, but something in him knew she was the one to watch.

A striking contrast to her cold and cutting reputation, Morgana’s appearance was effortlessly mesmerizing. Her hair was dark purple, untouched by even a single ornament. This made her stand out compared to her two daughters and even sons, who decorated themselves more thoroughly.

Her gown followed the same principles: it was not the typical overdecorated silks of royalty. No, hers flowed with subtle enchantments: shifting threads of sapphire, ember, stone, and mist. A dress woven with actual elemental strands.

But it was her eyes that truly bound him.

They were iridescent pools of elemental chaos: flickers of fire-red, wind-green, earth-brown, and water-blue danced across her irises, akin to a living storm. Just like his.

(Picture]

A master of the Elemental Sovereign class. Quinlan had acquired a much greater class by now, but unlike him, Queen Morgana took the Elemental Sovereign class until it was truly mastered. Quinlan had upgraded it to the Avatar of Elements long before he could unlock all its spells and experience all its nuances.

And yet, Morgana’s expression was a statue’s mask. Icy, aloof, and clearly disinterested in the affair. She reminded Quinlan and even Vex of Black Fang a bit. At least when the woman wasn’t having a manic episode. Though Quinlan hadn’t seen that side of her just yet.

She barely glanced at even Felicity’s arrival. Her posture suggested she would rather be locked in a lab, deciphering the intricacies of aetheric balance or rebuilding a new rune lattice in solitude. The chattering of nobles was clearly beneath her. Even the fact that it was her husband’s 1000th birthday didn’t seem to make the woman excited or even a bit interested in seeing the celebrations through.

Still, her elemental eyes lingered a fraction of a second longer on him.

Just a single moment.

But he noticed. His eyes were naturally covered up as the elemental eyes had become one of the biggest features of Devil’s legend, his most notable feature. His eyes were instead activated, meaning they shone red.

Red was a rare color to have for humans, but not at all as rare as harmonized elemental eyes. Many fire mages had red eyes, for example.

Then, as one, the group stopped before the throne.

Felicity gave a curtsy with one hand sweeping across her waist. ”Mother. Father.”

The King nodded. ”Welcome, Daughter.”

But Morgana’s words were not harboring the same familial warmth as the king’s. ”You’re late.”

Felicity grinned cheekily. ”Am I? Royal Mother, I don’t have anything to bring up in my defense.” She then giggled under her breath, clearly enjoying the moment far too much. ”But I do blame my guests.”

That’s when all heads—royal and noble alike—turned once more to Quinlan and his party.

Morgana’s eyes became fiery slits.