Primordial Villain with a Slave Harem

Chapter 1402  Played Like a Fiddle

Lumi froze.

Miri froze harder.

Ayame continued, ignoring the petrified states of the duo. ”If I remember correctly, you ranked us on your list of ʼbest future mothers.ʼ I placed last.” She tilted her head a fraction. ”My body is too petite, my frame too small,” she said. Her eyes dipped briefly, then lifted again. ”Because my chest was deemed insufficient, and the child might starve.”

The effect was immediate.

Both women went pale, color draining so fast it was impressive. They looked like a pair who were fighting an ice mage that cast ice age on them.

”Ah!”

”No, no, no, thatʼs not-!!”

They spoke over each other, hands flying up in panicked denial.

”That was ignorant talk,” Lumi blurted, eyes wide. ”We were wrong. Completely wrong.”

”Quinnie tore into us afterward,” Miri added quickly, pressing a hand to her chest. ”He explained everything. Very thoroughly.”

”Painfully thoroughly,” Lumi nodded. ”We had our eyes opened.”

”We were thinking like fools,” Miri said. ”Ancient fools.”

”We are so sorry,” Lumi finished, bowing her head without hesitation.

Ayame watched them for a long second.

Her expression stayed neutral. Too neutral.

”Hm,” she murmured at last.

She turned her head away again, gaze drifting off as if considering something distant and weighty. ”I donʼt know.”

Behind them, Quinlan felt his chest tighten with restrained laughter.

He kept his face composed, but inwardly he shook his head, amused and helpless. Ayame had recovered fully now, calm restored, timing perfect. She was playing them like a fiddle.

”Donʼt block the entrance,” Quinlan called, amused. He was having way too much fun right now.

”Ah, right!” Lumi clasped her hands together at chest height and leaned forward, eyes wide and earnest. Miri mirrored her a heartbeat later, nodding so fast her hair shifted over her shoulders.

”Please,” Lumi said, voice rushing. ”Let us make it up to you.”

”We will do better,” Miri added. ”We will listen first this time.”

Ayame studied them for another breath, then uncrossed her arms and let out a small sigh that carried no weight behind it. ”Very well.”

The relief was instant. Both women straightened and beamed, stepping in close again as if afraid the decision might evaporate if they left her side. They guided her back toward Quinlan with gentle hands at her elbows, talking the entire way, promises stacking atop promises.

As they walked toward him, Ayame lifted her eyes and met Quinlanʼs gaze. The look she gave him was beyond playful, carrying the clear message that there was no offense taken, only mischief. Quinlanʼs mouth twitched despite himself.

Her attention shifted to the eastern primordial pair. Hanae met her eyes and smiled, warm and knowing. She tipped her head slightly and flicked two fingers in a subtle gesture toward the mothers behind her.

The message, although unspoken, was clear as day.

Stay with those two for a bit longer, then weʼll talk. This is too amusing.

Ayame inclined her head in quiet agreement and stepped into place beside Quinlan.

Lumi and Miri hovered just behind her. They whispered back and forth, worried tones slipping through their excitement.

”Do you think she forgives us?”

”She said very well. That sounded forgiving.”

”But her voice was calm. Too calm.”

They edged closer without realizing it.

Ayameʼs shoulders tensed when two of something soft yet heavy pressed down on them from behind. ”Ah, right!” Lumi clasped her hands together at chest height and leaned forward, eyes wide and earnest. Miri mirrored her a heartbeat later, nodding so fast her hair shifted over her shoulders.

With a thoroughly startled brain, the samurai woman had to realize that one breast from each woman was resting on her shoulders in this moment, without them even realizing.

Her eyes narrowed, jaw setting as she shifted her weight forward. A low sound escaped her, more breath than word. ”I won the battle, but at what cost?”

Miri leaned in cheerfully. ”What was that, dear?”

”Nothing…” Ayame murmured, gaze fixed ahead.

Lumi and Miri exchanged a look, then nodded together, satisfied enough for the moment. They stayed right where they were, watchful and attentive, their concern almost palpable.

Quinlan stared straight ahead, trying to hold his mounting desire to laugh out loud at bay. His samuraiʼs first interaction with his mothers did not disappoint.

With the oriental girl through and settled, the seam remained open and steady.

It was time for the rest to walk through.

And so they did.

Quinlan stayed where he was as the seam rippled again, but before the newcomer could arrive, he stepped forward at an angle that put him behind and between his mothers. He set his hands on their hips, restricting their movements.

”Quinnie?!” Miri protested at once, half turning. ”Someone else is about to walk through!”

”We demand to greet her!!” Luminara decreed, fidgeting already.

”Exactly,” Quinlan said, voice calm. ”Ayame handled it well, but if you swarm everyone the moment they arrive, you will rattle them. Not all of them will take it so well.”

”Swarm?” Miri echoed, eyes wide. ”That almost sounds like assault!”

Lumi blinked, then her posture softened as understanding settled in. ”Ah… Maybe we were a bit overwhelming.”

”Hmm…” Miri was more reluctant to admit.

”I am not saying that you canʼt greet them,” Quinlan continued. ”Just let them take a few breaths first.”

Luminaraʼs ears drooped, the tips folding back in a way that would have melted any manʼs heart. Miri crossed her arms and puffed her cheeks, lips pursed in a quiet pout.

”Such a cruel son we have… But fine…”

The seam stirred again.

Lucille stepped through with weight in her stride, boots planting firmly as Malakarʼs coating settled over her in the same silent manner as before. Her eyes swept the semicircle with a soldierʼs habit, chin lifting as she took in the gathered primordials.

”I am Lucille,” she said, voice steady. ”Itʼs my extreme pleasure to meet you, mythical beings.”

As the Bloodmonger with gorgeous caramel hair, and a suspiciously thin and feminine build for what she was on the field of battle, curtised properly, Miri and Lumi instantly bounced in place, each making a tiny hop they failed to hide. They wanted to jump forward again.

But Quinlanʼs hands stayed put. While they could have slipped free without effort, they did not, holding themselves in check with visible restraint.

Only when Quinlan lifted his hands after he saw that Lucille was more than fine did they move.

This time, they walked. Hurriedly, yes, but walked.

”Welcome, Lucille!” Lumi said, hands clasped together, excitement contained but present.

”We are Luminara and Mearie,” Miri added, nodding once. ”Quinlanʼs mothers.”

Lucille smiled warmly, then inclined her head in acknowledgment. ”I am so happy to meet you two finally, after all that I heard about you…”

”Only good things, I hope!” Miri said while sending Quinlan a stern glance, wondering if he dared to do something bad.

”Of course…” Lucille giggled. ”Quin sang your praises to me and nothing else. I also heard that you approved highly of me being one of the women who will carry the child of your son in her womb.”

The berserker was beaming.

Ayame was not. She scoffed loudly.

The seam pulsed again after that, and again.

Each arrival followed the same rhythm. A step through. A settling of power. A greeting offered and returned. The mothers hovered close, voices bright but measured, patience worn like a borrowed coat they refused to drop.

Quinlan watched it unfold from the side with satisfaction settling in his chest at the sight.

The procession continued.

The primordial village filled with new voices.

The gathering was no longer a moment held in anticipation.

The party had begun in earnest.