Primordial Villain with a Slave Harem

Chapter 1026: Overwhelmed by Rage

The two elements didn’t compete when it was he who controlled them.

Instead, they worked together to devour his target.

Bone cracked.

Flesh tore.

The noble’s arms bent the wrong way and turned into a mess of meat and burned cloth. He was launched off his feet like a broken puppet due to the weight of the impact.

The shockwave rippled outward, shattering goblets and flipping plates from nearby tables. Guests screamed with fright until glowing arcane barriers snapped into place, summoned by royal mages on standby. They caught both the explosion and flying debris before anything could hit the spectators.

But Quinlan didn’t even notice their presence. His mind had snapped. He allowed his emotions to take control away from cold logic.

He didn’t care for anything besides one single thing.

Revenge.

The storm he kept leashed behind calm calculation had finally been let loose.

Quinlan’s hand punched through his own explosion.

The fiery blast roared, but his arm tore through it, pushing past the detonation and catching the noble mid-flight by the throat.

The sheer force of the impact should’ve hurled the man across the hall and into the walls.

But Quinlan’s grip stopped all of that from happening.

The noble’s immense momentum slammed to a halt forcefully, making his body jerk violently as the sudden reversal of force sent shock through his spine. His legs kicked forward, and his body snapped from the whiplash. Bones cracked again from the unnatural way his momentum had been ripped away.

Then Quinlan lifted him.

With one arm.

As if the noble weighed nothing at all.

Flames wrapped around his seizing hand, crawling up the noble’s neck.

Sizzling.

Scorching.

The scent of burning flesh filled the air.

The noble shrieked as the grip around his throat tightened even further.

”Brothers, h-help!” he managed to choke out with his voice breaking as he struggled against the searing pressure gripping his throat. ”F-Father! Father!” Ɽ𝔞ꞐΟ𝔟Ё𝒮

He thrashed violently

”Mother!” he wailed, eyes searching the crowd. ”Help me!”

But no one moved.

Not a single soul stepped forward.

Not his kin.

Not the nobles who once shared drinks with him.

Not even the guards dared take action.

And not simply because they understood what the king had allowed and were being subservient.

No. Their lack of action was due to the fact that... what stood before them now... frightened them.

That was when the noble finally saw them.

Quinlan’s eyes.

Raw, visceral, soul-deep red. The color of wrath made real. A furnace of rage that had burned quietly for time immemorial and finally found its excuse to erupt.

There was no empathy in those eyes.

Only judgment.

Only fire.

And death.

The noble began to tremble violently.

Foam bubbled at the corner of his mouth.

His legs gave out.

A stream of piss ran down his silk trousers, sizzling as it hit the heat-warped floor.

”Lord Black!”

A sudden, high-pitched, feminine shout tore through the silence.

All eyes shifted.

From behind the royal couple, a girl had broken away. She looked barely fifteen, if that. Her bright purplish hair was braided tightly behind her head, now unraveling as she ran, and her bright eyes, which were glassy with tears, held raw panic in them.

”Felicity, stay back!” her older sister, Calienne, shouted. ”Stay where you are!”

But Felicity didn’t listen.

She couldn’t.

Not when he was going to die.

Not like this.

On the dais above, Queen Morgana rose to her feet. Her eyes watched her daughter’s fragile back run toward the unfolding chaos with growing intensity. She was about to intervene to put an end to this.

But then she felt it.

Pressure.

Ancient. Immense. Unshakable.

It came from beside her.

The king hadn’t moved, hadn’t spoken. But the sheer force of his will now pressed against her.

’Wait,’ it said.

She turned her head sharply toward him.

What was he thinking?

Did he not care for Felicity’s safety?

Did he truly mean to allow this farce to continue?

And what of the royal decree? The laws this supposed noble had just spat on? Did that not matter to him at all?

On the floor below, Felicity reached Quinlan.

”S-stop! Please, you have to stop!” she cried, stumbling over her words as her tears finally broke free. ”You’ll be branded a criminal! If you kill him, you and your family will pay the ultimate price!”

But Quinlan didn’t even glance her way.

A low sound rumbled from his chest, a grunt. Deep and primal.

The kind of sound a raging bull makes as it finds satisfaction in the feel of its enemy’s body breaking beneath its hooves.

The noble in his grasp spasmed weakly.

Felicity screamed, tears flying from her cheeks as she broke into a full wail.

”STOP!”

She was ignored even still.

But she wasn’t alone in trying.

Feng ignored everything as she jumped right toward his hand.

Toward the flames.

Toward the boiling rage itself.

Intending to stop it herself or die trying.

From the side, Ayame moved like lightning to stop him, somehow, some way.

Lucille shouted as the bloodlust in her veins twisted into urgency and desperation. She didn’t care about the noble anymore, only about him.

Every member of the Elysiar family felt the same and did the same. They lunged toward Quinlan, not caring one bit for their safety.

Even Iris, who had stood silent and trembling with wrath, moved forward now. She had wanted to kill them, too. Every one of them. When the nobles dared to assault Blossom and then Kitsara as well as Seraphiel, her blood burned with a demand for revenge.

But Quinlan’s rage... it had sobered her.

This was not the time.

Not yet. .

They had so much more to strive for. So much still to build. Revenge against such nobodies would be a tragic, meaningless end to the man who—when she’d been adrift, ready to break—had shown her that she was not alone in this cruel world.

She clenched her fists and forced herself forward.

They all moved together, drawn by the same instinct that screamed at them all:

Save Quinlan from self-destruction!