Primordial Villain with a Slave Harem

Chapter 1081: Not a Picnic

To Cassandra, she looked like a cruel demoness who reveled in her enemy’s suffering. A vile, sadistic woman.

But the royal guard’s teeth clenched, golden mana still flaring desperately around her body. She refused to kneel, refused to collapse beneath the weight of a curse, no matter how vicious. Her veins screamed, her blood boiled, but her will did not break. The curse may have snared her, but a curse of this magnitude that was inflicted on so little as a minor cut must’ve had limits.

Cassandra’s sharp eyes darted toward Vex, and there she saw it. The Hexblade was rooted to the spot. To anchor such a spell so deeply, she couldn’t move.

That was the opening. That was the flaw. Cassandra burned her mana like a dying star, her light flaring brighter, golden rays clawing against the encroaching rot.

“Girls…” Vex’s playful voice cut through her focus. She giggled, as if the battlefield was nothing but entertainment. Her tongue flicked across her lips. “This is not a picnic.”

“On it,” Serika grunted. She was already moving.

“Don’t underestimate her, though; she’s likely in the upper level 60s.” Vex’s words, which she added afterward, rang on deaf ears.

The tanned woman’s fist blazed with molten fury, a living inferno condensed into one devastating strike. “[Blazing Calamity]!” The blow crashed into Cassandra’s chest like a meteor, flames crawling across her armor. Metal screamed, plates melted, her breastplate warped and crumbled.

Blade was next. “[Skyshatter]!” Her katana flashed like falling starlight, cleaving through Cassandra’s weakened guard. The cut ripped across her back in a perfect, merciless arc, blood spraying hot against the night.

Cassandra’s body buckled. Pain crushed her.

And then Ghost struck. Her gauntlets raked across skin where the flame fist woman melted armor beforehand, claws screeching across flesh.

Scourge’s axe came down with monstrous force, the edge howling for blood. The moonlit constructs followed, their spectral weapons carving into Cassandra’s flesh.

The black-armored warrior’s blade pierced her side, tearing deep.

More attacks came. More wounds marked her body. Her scream was buried beneath the onslaught. The world was reduced to a storm of blood, steel, and ruin.

When the carnage ended, Cassandra lay broken in the dirt. Her golden light flickered out, consumed by the curse, by pain, by overwhelming force.

And then came silence.

A shadow approached.

Devil.

A lion king whose loyal lionesses did the dirty work for him. Now, all he had to do was claim the prize. The women stood aside, watching as their man dragged his black saber behind him, carving a line in the soil.

His eyes seemed to be freezing cold.

He aimed his saber at the fallen woman.

“[Subjugate].”

The word held immense gravity, as if it were a judge’s guilty verdict. Even while unconscious, Cassandra screamed, thrashing violently as the spell tried to clamp down on her soul.

It wasn’t instant, because the spell only worked on people who were not far more powerful than the Primordial Subjugator. It was an annoying limitation placed on the otherwise extremely broken ability.

And, as it was, Cassandra’s level was far beyond his. Level 66, while he was only level 40.

The magic should have broken instantly, flickering out like a candle in the wind. And for a moment, that was exactly what it did.

The hold slipped. Golden fire flared from her core, her oath-born will lashing out to tear his dominion apart. Even unconscious, she seemed to sneer at him, mocking his audacity as the spell unraveled against the impossible gap.

But Quinlan Elysiar was not like others.

He was far more than a mere criminal, far more than Devil.

Where the spell fractured, he pressed forward. Not with technique. Not with numbers. Not with a skill.

With himself. Quinlan might’ve been vastly below her in levels, but one’s level was not the only determinant of personal might, which was what the [Subjugation] spell looked at, not mere numbers.

His soul powers whispered in her ears, the chorus of the dead dragging their nails across her mind. Elemental might churned within his veins. And behind it all, the primordial corruption of the Harbinger, the Villain who would devour gods themselves, pressed down upon her with the weight of inevitability.

Cassandra’s golden fire faltered. It guttered and dimmed beneath the suffocating shadow that loomed over her very being.

Dominion.

“You will kneel.”

Her body convulsed, her spirit buckling beneath the weight of him. She screamed, fought with everything she had, but her resistance slowly began showing cracks, then shattered.

[Ding!]

[You have Subjugated Cassandra Valor!]

Her body fell limp in submission.

She was no longer Cassandra, Royal Guard in the service of Queen Morgana.

She was The Primordial Villain’s.

She was…

His slave.

“Hubbyyy!!”

Vex’s squeal sounded as she rushed up to hug him from behind. While nuzzling her head needily into his back, she whispered dreamily, “When you were level 39, you couldn’t [Subjugate] me! But now, at level 40, you [Subjugated] not only me but a stronger woman too! Just how much stronger did you become after the trial?!”

“Hmph! Let’s not act like he did so much…” Ayame scoffed, releasing her trademark, cute, feminine sound of disapproval. “We defeated the woman while he watched, then lazily strolled up to claim the prize! Shameless!”

Vex dejectedly shook her head. “What an unpleasant woman you are, Ayame… I’m starting to understand why your sister sold you into slavery.”

“I must agree. I’m only surprised she managed to tolerate this unbearable midget for so many years,” Iris’s voice sounded from behind, but for once, she was ignored as the oriental woman’s eyes fluttered wide open, staring at Vex with pure disbelief.

“Excuse me???!!! I always knew your foul mouth had no boundaries it wouldn’t cross, but this is far too much even for you! Crazy bitch!” Ayame’s eyes flared wide in utter disbelief. She could not fathom the sheer audacity of Vex’s declaration.

But before she could launch into a proper tirade, two massive hands descended onto their heads, one for each woman. Quinlan’s fingers threaded through their contrasting black and white hair, stroking softly. It was a gesture of dominance and reassurance all at once. A firm reminder that this was not the time. Ayame stiffened immediately.

“That… that’s unfair!” she spat, struggling against the gentle pressure.

Quinlan’s expression was wry as he sighed. “Vex, you were out of line.”

Vex stomped the ground with an exaggerated little thud, whining in perfect, pouting indignation. “But!! Ayame can be a real mood killer sometimes! I was just excited to praise my hubby’s awesomeness!” She glanced at him with the cutest scowl imaginable. There was no real malice, just dramatic flair. It let Quinlan know she didn’t mean one bit what she said about Ayame’s enslavement, just that her mouth filter was, as it so often happened, faulty.

“I don’t hear the apology!” Ayame hissed.

Vex made no move to apologize, only pushing her tongue out at Ayame. The Hexwitch’s tongue no longer sported the black curse mark from before.

But before any true catfight could ignite, Quinlan’s grip on their scalp increased in intensity, wordlessly telling them that this was truly not the time. They were racing against the clock.

His eyes swept the battlefield, catching Seraphiel already in motion. The healer’s staff glowed as threads of restorative magic began weaving over the broken body of Cassandra, stabilizing, patching, and preparing her for the impossible.

Time was slipping.

Quinlan’s voice cut through the tension. “Awaken, Cassandra Valor.”

The absolute command carried the weight of life and death itself. There was no argument, no hesitation. Cassandra’s body convulsed, and she gasped. Her mind screamed against the impossible will pressing down upon her.

Pain lanced through every fiber of her being. Her eyes flickered open, but not from her brain’s command, but because her absolute master, her subjugator, had demanded it. Shock, agony, and disbelief collided in her gaze. She should not have been able to awaken. She should have remained broken, unconscious for a long time until her body collected itself. Yet here she was, staring up at a man who bent logic itself to his whim.

Quinlan lowered himself, kneeling next to her broken and battered form. On either side of him, Ayame and Vex did the same.

The three of them, Primordial Villain, the unhinged witch, and the cheeky blade, formed a silent trinity. There was no warmth in their eyes.

Together, in perfect synchrony, their voices rang over Cassandra.

“Tell us everything.”

…