Primordial Villain with a Slave Harem

Chapter 1300  Come And Get It

The cup slipped from his fingers and shattered on the floor, resulting in hot coffee spreading across the patterned rug.

”No…” He rushed to the nearest wall mirror, its surface already glowing with cascading runes. The readings were unmistakable.

”They reached Tier Three without triggering a single alarm…? Just what sort of scout do they have?!”

His stomach dropped.

”Marien!” he called sharply.

His wife appeared at the doorway, eyes widening at the alarms flaring red through the halls.

”Take the children,” Arcturin muttered with an incredibly grim expression. ”Just as the elders warned he might… The Villain came for us.”

A tremor moved through Marienʼs hands as she yelped and nearly fell to the floor due to the horrible words that left her husbandʼs lips, but she managed to collect herself and nodded. She whispered to the twins, guiding them toward the manorʼs deeper passages.

Arcturin stepped into the hall just as his guard captain arrived at a sprint.

”The manor lockdown is active!” the captain reported immediately. No prompting was needed. ”Barrier seals, perimeter runes, emergency reserves. All engaged automatically, just as advertised by the seller.”

”Good.” Arcturin breathed once, slow and heavy. ”Weʼll camp here until the end of time if we must. Frostglaive wonʼt fall because of oversight. Go. Ensure every defense is airtight. I donʼt trust these ʼautomaticʼ things…”

”Yes, my lord!”

The captain bolted down the corridor, shouting orders that disappeared behind the echoing ward hum and the loud bangs coming from outdoors.

Arcturin returned to his study and opened a drawer with stiff fingers. Inside lay a thick envelope containing a rough portrait. He unfolded the wanted notice and stared at the cold eyes drawn in charcoal.

Quinlan Elysiar.

Devil.

The Primordial Villain.

Dead or Alive

Bounty: 1,000,000 gold coins

But that was the old bounty. Now, the numbers were crossed over with charcoal, no longer valid.

Instead, new words had been added, namely:

Bounty: One Royal Boon Which basically translated to: ʼanything within the Kingʼs power to grant, no longer restricted to mere coins. Earning the rank of nobility, Nation-Treasure level artifacts, secrets, whatever the man or woman finally ending the reign of the villain would want, was at their fingertips.

Just finally, someone, anyone, get this damned bastard.

Thatʼs how the wanted poster read.

Arcturin grumbled under his breath, glaring into the exotic eyes visible on the poster. Even through the black and white drawing, Quinlanʼs elemental eyes shone off his uniqueness.

”Come, then…” he grumbled, rolling his shoulders back as if he was about to wrestle the man personally. ”I spent half my familyʼs fortune on those damned artifacts the Fujimori elders recommended… Iʼm ready, you bastard. Come and get it.”

The wards blazed brighter. The air tightened.

The enemy had begun assaulting the automatic defenses that were deployed.

A servant barreled into the study, breath sharp and uneven, clutching a humming crystal artifact in both hands.

”My lord! Communication has been established!”

Arcturin snatched the device. Elder Chizuruʼs composed voice emerged.

”Count Frostglaive. Can you ascertain with certainty that this is an invasion by the villain?”

The manor shook.

Not rattled.

Shook.

A burst of raw force slammed against the outer veil, sending another violent tremor through the foundations. Shelves rattled. Chandeliers swayed. Somewhere deep in the estate, something heavy crashed.

Arcturin swallowed tightly.

”Well,” he answered, voice dry as frost. ”Either itʼs him… or someone who fights on his level and has the ability to appear out of thin air, Lady Chizuru. None of my patrol guards reported sighting of an invading force… These are no rogue monsters, that much I am certain of.”

Another muffled blast came. The runes along the walls flared, struggling to keep pace.

”Understood. Maintain your defenses.”

The line cut.

Arcturin stared at the dead artifact for a heartbeat, then let out a short, humorless breath.

”Maintain the defenses?” He shook his head with such a sour expression that one might think he had eaten a dozen lemons. ”What else am I supposed to do? A monster… No, thatʼs not quite accurate…”

His grim expression darkened even further, returning his gaze to the wanted poster. ”The One True Monster, who is nothing like those drooling dumb ones - damn how bad I miss the fucking trolls right now - is pounding on my walls, waiting for a chance to slaughter us all…”

The manor quaked again.

He stood straighter, jaw tight. ”Of course I will maintain the fucking defenses.”

He would hold.

Or he would die doing it.

…

Snow sprayed upward as a shockwave rolled across the hillside. *RRRRRRRRRRRRR!* Kitsara hopped back as the alarms began blaring with her fur bristling and tails puffed wide as she cursed under her breath.

”Damn it!” she hissed, pacing in tight circles. ”I masked my mana as much as possible, and I expended so much energy to turn into a freaking little snow flea! A little bug! I have never managed to become anything that small! And I still got flagged… Their detection net picked up the signal anyway!”

She stomped once, making her foxkin ears twitch in pure frustration.

Black Fang stood by the side unbothered, watching the blaring estate with arms loose at her sides. Her expression didnʼt shift to one of anger or frustration with the foxkinʼs failure to slip by all the defenses. Not even a hint of disappointment crossed her face.

”They prepared,” she decreed. Although short, her words could be interpreted as ʼIf not even a Nine-Tailed Sorceress, an illusionist perfect just for these tasks could slip by, then they truly prepared well.ʼ

Kitsara blinked at her, momentarily thrown off by the quiet acceptance. But then she grimaced, not happy even if she wasnʼt accused of incompetence. ”If I were as good as Yoruha, then this wouldnʼt have happened… Iʼm not even half as good…” Her fox ears drooped in shame.

Black Fangʼs elegant brows moved for a fraction of a moment at the mention of the horribly annoying woman who was currently lazing around in the stronghold, probably enjoying the comfort of deep slumber now that Quinlan and the girls were back, which in turn meant the evil green demon had her attention occupied by others, letting the old fox rest in peace.

In fact, the dryad girl was right now buzzing around Kaeliraʼs head, watching the blueprints the elf was drawing while simultaneously listening to a fantasy tale with a princess, a knight, and an evil dragon, read by Gina, Jasmineʼs mother, who somehow found herself dragged into this.

”She is more than twenty thousand times older,” Black Fang replied in a low murmur. The Venomborne Terror then continued scanning the glowing barrier ahead.

Kitsara paused her self-deprecating train of thought for a moment, as she realized that Black Fang just now told her not to compare to Yoruha, as she was over a million years old. It was natural for the old fox to far surpass Kitsara, as their classes were identical.

The only difference separating the two was six tails and a million years of experience.

But even still, Kitsara did not feel comforted hearing that.

She was part of the Godslayerʼs family, she was his illusionist partner, his foxkin lover. She mightʼve been a nonchalant woman who did not take herself seriously most of the time, but when it came to her power and progression, she was very strict with herself.

At age fifty, having what she had was the sign of a talented genius who put in hard work. But she was not content with that.

How could she be?

Her man was a unique existence even among primordials, who were damned immortal existences and the progenitors of mortals like her.

To not become a trophy wife, meaning remaining useful to such an impossible existence, was a tall order. But she would not rest until she did just that.