Primordial Villain With A Slave Harem

Thalorind – Greenvale Duchy

"Blossom misses Master!!!" Blossom cried while clutching at her slave collar’s dog tag with both hands desperately. It was a dog tag she made from Quinlan’s hair she cut herself at his request when it grew too long after he obtained the [Primordial Breeding Physique]. On it, the words "Master’s Good Girl" were inscribed.

Her ears drooped, tail still, as hot tears streamed down her flushed cheeks.

Lucille stepped forward silently from behind and knelt beside her.

"Come here, dummy," the caramel-haired warrior whispered, pulling Blossom into a hug. Her arms, still dusted with gore from the battlefield, curled protectively around the weeping girl.

"It’s going to be all right," she murmured. "He’s coming back soon. You know he is. There’s no way that Quinlan dies."

"But... it’s been a whole two months!" Blossom sobbed, her fingers tightening around the tag. "Blossom can’t bear this separation any longer!"

From nearby, a soft presence approached.

Poppy, her fiery-haired sister, silently patted Blossom on the head. For once, there was no teasing in her touch, only understanding. The mischievous elder sister of Blossom had long since learned how deeply emotionally attached her little sis was to Quinlan.

He was her whole world. His long departure meant that her world had collapsed.

Poppy didn’t speak. But her silence was heavy. Her expression was raw.

Around them, the lush emerald forest of Greenvale thundered with sounds of war. Swords clashed, arrows whistled, and bestial cries of dying greenskins echoed across the woodland in a grim symphony. The scent of blood, bark, and burned flesh tainted the air.

The war party had been cleaning out every greenskin den within a hundred-mile radius of their home, the stronghold.

Suddenly, a blinding arc of lightning snapped through the mist.

Ayame landed with the momentum of a divine blade, her curved katana still sizzling from the last kill. With fluid grace, she knelt in front of Blossom, her crystal blue eyes locked on the dogkin’s.

"Blossom," she said, voice calm but authoritative, "we all know that the big oaf will come back much stronger. And more arrogant than ever."

A faint smile touched Lucille’s lips. She knew where Miss Skysplitter, the second-in-command of the Ascendats, was going with her words.

"That’s exactly why we can’t sit here and cry," Ayame continued. "We don’t have that luxury. Do you want to become too weak to help him when he returns?"

Blossom’s ears twitched. She looked up with teary eyes and shook her head violently.

"No... Blossom wants to be strong! Blossom wants to help Master!"

"Then we have to catch up to him," Ayame said. "He’ll be level 40 by the time he returns. And you know that levels are not at all everything, especially when it comes to that walking, talking cheat. If we’re too far behind, he’ll leave us in the dust. And worse... do you want to be the reason he slows down? The reason he holds himself back, just so we can keep up? Because you know he would do that to keep us happy."

Blossom’s eyes widened with horror.

"No! No way! Master would hate not getting stronger!"

"Exactly," Ayame nodded, standing again, flipping her katana in her hand. "So what are you waiting for?"

Blossom’s tears stopped.

Her heart pounded.

She shot to her feet in a burst of sudden resolve, ears perked and tail stiff with determination. Her gaze turned toward the screams echoing from the battleline beyond the glade.

"Blossom won’t waste time anymore! Blossom will become strong enough to kill Master’s enemies so they can’t hurt him! And Master will pet her head and call her his good girl when he returns!!"

Lucille gave a savage grin as she reached for her large axe. "Atta girl."

Poppy smirked and flicked her sister’s ear. "Try not to get hurt in your overeagerness, sis."

And with that, the blonde dogkin dashed forward with her claws flashing as she plunged herself back into the slaughter.

Behind her, Ayame exhaled.

Seraphiel emerged from the trees, bow in hand, eyes calm as frost.

Aurora floated down on a mist of mana, a new spell she unlocked from her Essenceweaver class. She was already casting a wide buff over the group.

Even Iris could be seen in the shadows with her blade dripping blood and lips curled upward in utter satisfaction. She was busy massacring a greenskin family she’d stumbled upon.

The ladies exchanged a glance with each other.

Two months without their lover. It was painful for all their hearts. Each of them shed a tear at least once when they had to lay their bodies to rest without feeling their man’s warm embrace.

But they were his girls.

And they’d be ready to proudly continue standing by his side when he returned.

They refused to be weak damsels in distress or pretty little harem members that were only useful to make him smile when he returned to their arms from battle.

It was time for the ladies to level up.

...

The Flameheart Palace – Inner Sanctum

Crimson light flickered along the marble floor, cast by the ever-burning braziers that lined the throne hall’s walls. The scent of scorched incense drifted through the still air, a combination of wild cinnamon and sun-dried ash, Serika Vael’s preferred blend.

She sat atop the throne of the sovereign with one leg crossed over the other, resting her chin on a gloved knuckle as her attendant finished the report.

"...he tunneled into the treasury with the traitor girl, Feng of the Jiai family. Engaged over two dozen elite guards and many more combatants. Elements unknown, but recorded evidence suggests all four—fire, water, wind, and earth—were present. He escaped, and there were... many casualties."

The officer knelt, not daring to raise his eyes.

Serika’s gaze stayed fixed on the burning wall across the room, watching the lazy tongues of flame lick upward, higher and higher, seeking something they could never quite grasp.

"...Thank you," she said quietly.

The officer withdrew, leaving her alone with the fire and her thoughts.

Although it wasn’t confirmed that the report was about Quinlan, it only made sense in her mind. He somehow escaped her palace despite his qi being sealed. Furthermore, his partner was a teenage girl with a water cultivation. Now, only a bit of time later, there’s a report of a man and girl matching their physical description invading the Jiai family’s treasury...

It would be too much of a coincidence for her not to connect the dots.

Serika sighed with a heavy heart.

She had imprisoned him.

She hadn’t wanted to.

But she’d had no choice in her mind.

A trembling breath passed through her lips. The Sovereign’s mask of steel cracked for a moment, and something vulnerable flickered in her bright green eyes.

"No leads at all..." she whispered, more to the flames than to herself. "How will I find him now...?"

Quinlan was her only link to the man. The only one who had carried his teachings, the unmistakable imprint of his will.

Now that link was gone.

She didn’t even resent him for escaping. She would’ve done the same in his place.

But now...

The double doors to her sanctum slammed open without warning.