Primordial Villain with a Slave Harem

Chapter 1233: Time to Sweat

The door to the sauna creaked open, releasing a wave of soothing heat.

Black Fang stepped in first. Her eyes swept across the interior, studying the polished wood walls, the dwarven stones set in the heating pit, and the benches surrounding it.

She wasn’t admiring the luxury, though; it was the craftsmanship that held her focus.

Quinlan entered after her and sat down on the center bench. He didn’t bother wrapping a towel around his waist. It was a sauna, after all, and it just felt better without one.

If Black Fang showed signs of being uncomfortable in his presence if he was naked, then, of course, he would’ve gotten the towel. He was a real gentleman, after all.

But considering that throughout the entire exchange he was naked, that truly didn’t seem to be the case.

He spread his legs and leaned back comfortably to ease the heat.

Blossom followed right after, humming softly to herself. She hopped onto the seat behind him with her usual lightness, planting her legs neatly along the side of his bench so she wouldn’t disturb anyone. Then, with a pleased sigh, she began kneading his shoulders with both hands.

“Master worked so hard today! Blossom wants to pamper him!” she declared with a happy grin while her tail was swishing lazily behind her butt.

Her hands were soft, her energy bright.

Vex came next, walking over without a hint of hesitation. She sat down on his left, folding one leg over the other with relaxed confidence. Like him, she didn’t bother covering herself.

There was no need; Quinlan and her sisters had seen her countless times. Furthermore, she felt no need to hide herself from Black Fang.

Ayame entered last.

Unlike Blossom and Vex, she had her towel firmly wrapped around her body. Her movements were elegant and graceful.

The samurai was the picture of feminine grace, exactly the kind that made Quinlan fall for the woman at first sight, even though back when they met, she was forced to wear potato sacks instead of proper clothes fitting a woman of her beauty.

Thus, aside from Black Fang, Ayame was the only one who hid her privates behind a towel.

Ayame found her spot on the other side of Quinlan, seating herself with a straight back. Steam curled around her hair, giving her an angelic look – at least if one were to ask Quinlan.

Though her narrowed eyes betrayed the fact that she was still keeping an eye on him.

The sauna filled with the quiet crackle of heat. No one spoke at first.

Quinlan exhaled, feeling the tension in his muscles start to melt away. But it was mostly thanks to Blossom’s massage. Her precise and strong fingers found all the right places as if she’d done this a thousand times – which she had.

Black Fang was standing still, unfazed by the temperature.

In fact, they all were.

The kiln beneath the floor rumbled, hard at work, but it wasn’t enough to make the heat truly felt. In truth, even with the fire at full strength, none of them would’ve started sweating any time soon. Their Vitality stat was simply too high.

That didn’t mean their bodies were numb, though; only that their tolerance was far beyond human limits. They could feel the heat, the prickle of warmth against their skin, the heaviness in the air… it just wasn’t strong enough to make them break a sweat.

Quinlan’s eyes moved toward the shallow pit in front of him, the one holding the special stones.

“Have you tried these before?” he asked, glancing at Black Fang.

“Never. The dwarves in the Northwestern region of Elvardia use them to temper weapons. They’d heat these stones until they glowed red, then drop them into special oils to refine the metal. I had no interest in such things.”

Quinlan’s lips curved. “Then allow me to showcase a use of them that you might find a lot more enjoyable. Perhaps this could go well with your poison baths once we get that sorted.”

He then reached for the ladle resting by the bucket of water. The kiln beneath them had been feeding its heat into the layered stone array. The dwarven minerals shimmered, already glowing with a dull crimson hue.

He dipped the ladle and poured a stream of water across the stones.

A sharp hiss filled the air. The liquid vanished instantly, replaced by the explosion of thick, rolling steam that spread through the sauna. The warmth hit them at once, no longer the mild, ambient heat from before, but one that was far more easily felt.

Black Fang’s eyes widened, if only for a moment. She raised an arm toward the stones, palm open, feeling the immense heat radiating from them. “Such a simple application, yet no one thought of it.”

Quinlan’s smirk was immediate. “If my elven lover were here, she’d say that’s because the filthy midgets don’t care about anything except hammering away.”

For the faintest instant, a smile crossed Black Fang’s lips. Then she moved closer, sitting near the stones. One leg crossed over the other, smooth and precise, and Quinlan’s gaze was drawn in again with the gravitational pull of a black hole.

The heat deepened. Steam curled along her shoulders and thighs, glistening under the dim light.

However, this time, it was Quinlan himself who, by the use of incredible willpower that had been passed down to him from all his male ancestors, averted his gaze and focused on the woman’s face.

“How’s it? Comfortable?” Quinlan asked.

“Yes,” Black Fang exhaled softly, getting more and more relaxed.

“Master, you should be a bit more descriptive! You have spent far too much time in isolation, your already bad people skills have receded to worryingly introvert levels,” Vex chirped happily, clearly enjoying her time. It wasn’t often she got to go into a sweating session with her lover and master/boss/mother-figure/accomplice, and more.

Yes, their relationship was hard to label.

“…” Black Fang’s expression bore into the deepest depths of her skull.

“I am not an introvert.”

“…” No one responded to that.

Wasn’t this the woman who willingly spent decades, if not centuries, in near total isolation?

Seeing the wry faces of theirs, Black Fang’s eyes narrowed dangerously for a moment.

Then the beautiful woman with the aura of lethal danger returned her attention to the stones.

Black Fang studied the steam curling through the air, eyes tracing the waves as they licked at her skin. She remained silent for several breaths. Finally, her voice came.

“The warmth seeps deep into the muscles. It eases the body’s resistance, forcing it to relax. I can feel it working, though only weakly. I imagine that for me, it will take time, probably days of sitting here.”

Her tone wasn’t one of complaint. It was merely an observation, spoken with the kind of detachment that came from a woman who’d tested poisons on herself far too many times.

Quinlan nodded slowly. It made sense. Of all of them, Black Fang had the highest Vitality by far; her body was a fortress of resilience. What barely registered to her would melt an ordinary person in seconds.

“Now we can’t have that. Leaving a lacking first impression is not my style.” He reached for the ladle again and handed it to her instead. “You can control it, Black Fang. More water means more heat. Make yourself at home.”

For a heartbeat, she simply stared at him. Those dark purple, sharp eyes shone with something unreadable that flickered behind them. There it was; subtle, fleeting, but unmistakable. The faintest hint of concern.

It was written in her eyes, ’Won’t such a heat be bad for the rest of them?’

Quinlan blinked. Then, a small smile emerged on his lips. This woman could be surprisingly considerate.

“Don’t worry. If it gets too hot, we’ll just step out, grab a drink, cool down, and come back in. It’s all part of the process.”

She nodded and turned back toward the pit, ladle in hand, and let another gentle stream of water pour over the glowing stones.

The sauna responded in kind. A hiss, a roar, and then a thick wave of steam rolling through the room, swallowing them all in its warm, hazy embrace.

<Master wants to see Miss Black Fang sweat buckets!> Blossom giggled inwardly while continuing the massage session. Since the dogkin was not great at heat tolerance, she was already sweating.

<I can’t even be mad,> Vex giggled. <I want to see it too.>

<…> Ayame remained silent.

She didn’t want to add to the conversation, especially because she would’ve felt rude if Black Fang thought they were speaking behind her back again.

Instead, as sweat began slowly materializing on her delicate skin, her attention turned toward the ancient woman.

“Lady Black Fang, if I might, could you tell me about your past? As someone born into the Fujimori clan, I’m dying from curiosity. My father never told me you were a Fujimori.”

She then hurriedly added, “But I understand that speaking about our past is deeply personal and might cause pain. I fully understand if you’d rather not open up about it.”