Primordial Villain with a Slave Harem

Chapter 971: Suppressed

Kitsara sucked in a sharp breath and adjusted her grip on her poisoned daggers. Blossom’s tail stopped twitching as she inhaled, centered herself, and lowered her stance. Feng gritted her teeth, reminding herself she wasn’t going to allow herself to be a useless mumbling mess while her friends fought in front of her eyes. From one moment to the next, her panic alchemized into a jittery kind of resolve as determination exploded through her veins.

They had him here with them. The walking, talking anomaly of the universe. And he wasn’t afraid.

Quinlan’s eyes locked onto Sareth’s. His stance didn’t falter, though every muscle in his body burned from the force of that one exchange.

He gritted his teeth, raising two fingers to cast.

“[Warp Gate]!”

Nothing.

His mana twisted. Sluggish. Slipping.

The incantation failed. Raw arcane resistance pressed against his soul.

Even forming the spell matrix felt like trying to paint through mud. Threads of mana resisted him, splintering off-course. Sareth didn’t even move this time around. She didn’t need to.

Casting anything near her was like threading a needle in a hurricane.

But he didn’t stop.

Quinlan’s jaw clenched. His elemental eyes flared brighter, digging deep. Deeper. Past muscle. Past mana. Into what he was.

He wasn’t just a spellcaster.

He was a Primordial.

He was adaptation incarnate.

And he did not kneel.

“…You think that’ll stop me?” he growled.

His core surged, the thrum of his soul force vibrating against Sareth’s suppression. A second later, something snapped.

Reality cracked.

A spiral of chaotic magic snapped open with a hiss, and from within stepped Vex.

Sareth’s gaze finally moved from Quinlan, though only after studying his spell for a short bit. Teleportation was more or less a myth in Thalorind, so her mild reaction to seeing it first-hand went to show just how hard it was to bring her out of her rhythm.

Then, her eyes landed on Vex.

Her expression didn’t change, but her cold voice rolled out for the first time.

“Black Fang’s baby chick is here.”

Her fingers flexed once on the halberd shaft.

“No matter.”

Vex’s expression twisted into something darker. Gone was the teasing tone, the bedroom purr. What replaced it was a sneer sharpened by centuries of bloodshed and pride.

“I might be a wide-eyed youngster to wrinkly old hags like you, Sareth…” Her hand rose, brimming with spiraling glyphs and violet hexlines, “… but you’ll soon learn that the new generation tends to outgrow the last.”

Her mana detonated behind her.

“[Hex: Myriad Decay].” The curse was flung toward Sareth.

The halberd warrior tilted her chin. Her foot shifted half an inch.

*CLANG!* The hex splintered harmlessly against a concussive barrier of raw anti-magic force, cast not by a spell, but her aura.

But Vex didn’t flinch. Her other hand burned with reverse-pentagram energy.

“[Hex: Unshackle].” She cast it on herself. Muscles tensed, veins lit. Her reflexes doubled. Her casting time has been halved.

Kitsara flinched badly while she was trying to conjure her own spells, but the pure, ominous, suffocating aura manifested by Sareth made every motion feel as if she were in a bad dream.

“What…? I can’t! Vexie, what’s the trick?!”

Vex didn’t even look back as she sighed, twirling her blade at Sareth. “Trick? I know you brats think rather lowly of me,” she muttered while her free hand was weaving through another complex spell. “But put some respect on my name, will you? I’m strong, I’m highly talented, and I’ve killed enough monsters as well as humans to at least double the kill count of every single sister of mine combined.”

Kitsara blinked. “…Oh. Right.”

She’d forgotten. Forgotten Vex wasn’t just an insane bitch, but a level 63 insane bitch. This lunatic had fought in actual wars before Kitsara was born—way before that.

It was just… the roof scene. Where she held nothing back at all. Vex was a needy and rather kinky woman, just like Kitsara, so the Hexblade might’ve lost some respect her sisters had for her before the lengthy orgy.

But now?

Kitsara steadied herself, drawing in a sharp breath. This wasn’t the rooftop. This was war.

And if she wanted to survive, let alone be useful, she had to break through the pressure.

Feng gritted her teeth and did the same.

<Let’s do this.>

<Blossom too…!> Blossom whispered, as her tail lowered and she crouched beside a support beam, Void magic manifesting around her claws.

Meanwhile, Quinlan glanced sideways at Vex.

She didn’t need to speak. Neither did he.

Their eyes locked.

And they nodded.

In that instant, two predators aligned.

One primordial. One hexwitch.

Both equally dangerous.

They were going full teamwork mode. No more posturing. No more testing.

Kill zone initiated.

Quinlan moved first. Elemental Form: Gale propelling him with flickering speed. The air obeyed without question. Wind curved around his frame like a sentient cloak. His footfalls never echoed. His silhouette blurred into a mirage of afterimages.

But the moment he breached Sareth’s aura, the world fought back.

The air thickened.

His mana choked.

Even as he switched to Elemental Form: Flame, the fire didn’t respond as seamlessly as it should under normal circumstances.

Sareth wasn’t a straightforward combatant who could only cut with immense might.

She suppressed her opponents.

Her [Dominance Aura] coiled outward in waves of killing intent. The battlefield bent around her. Spells fizzled, thoughts slowed, and instincts dulled. Casting even a basic spell near her felt like sculpting with gloves on.

But Quinlan was no ordinary caster.

He refused to falter.

Water curled behind him. Fire flared across his blade. Earth hardened his stance. Wind whispered through his reflexes.

The four elements—bent by his sheer will, not mere spell incantations—wove together. His class, Harbinger of Eons, let him flip between Forms as easily and seamlessly as breathing:

Flame: His saber became a furnace, every slash a furnace burst.

Stone: His parries created shockwaves.

Tide: His moves were more fluid than ever before.

Gale: He vanished before he struck.

And yet… Sareth matched every blow.

She didn’t dodge. She absorbed. She redirected.

Every parried strike earned her a [Chain Token]. They were invisible items, well… invisible to most, but to Quinlan, he felt them like nooses forming around his throat.

She responded with a flash of her halberd, cleaving in a blinding arc and activating its imbued spell, [Sever the Flow].

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