Primordial Villain With A Slave Harem - Chapter 651

Chapter 651: Summit Start
The grand chamber of the Dogkin Royal Palace had a unique air of authority and power to it that mixed perfectly well with history and tradition. Towering stone walls that were carved with the great victories of the grand tribe, loomed over the gathered rulers. A circular arrangement of desks formed around the middle of the chamber, each leader was seated behind their respective station.

At the head of it all sat Vargis, the dogkin chieftain. He drummed his fingers against the table in slow taps while his ears perked as he studied the broken figure in the center of the room.

There, displayed for all to see, was the necromancer.

Her limbless body was mounted onto a darkwood pedestal as a symbol of her total defeat. Her cauterized stumps twitched from time to time as if her magic sought to heal what had been taken from her. A sickly black mist curled from the wounds, they were failed attempts at self-regeneration. Chains embedded with runes wrapped around her body, suppressing her powers, ensuring she remained nothing more than a helpless trophy before the gathered beastkin lords.

Two mighty dogkin guards flanked her, their expressions were void of a single shred of mercy—they stood resolutely, ready to see through their duties. They were warriors of legend, known across the realm and even within opposing nations as Vargis’ two eldest sons. Both princes were over seven feet tall, clad in ceremonial armor, and had their halberds crossed before her in silent warning. The warning was not only aimed at the restricted necromancer but at the gathered as well. Attacking her would not be tolerated, no matter the circumstances.

The gathered beastkin leaders watched in silence.

The bearkin lord, Gorruk, who was an absolute titan of a man, sat behind a specially crafted, oversized desk, made to accommodate his sheer bulk. His massive arms remained folded, and his dark eyes gleamed with cold contemplation. Behind him, the Rabbitkin vassals sat alert and had their elongated ears twitching from time to time, they were very sensitive to the thick tension in the air. All they wanted to do was make a run for it, they were not made to endure such pressure.

The tigerkin leader, Rajah, leaned back in his chair, with one of his clawed fingers lazily tracing the desk’s surface, though his amber eyes were anything but relaxed. His lizardkin vassals sat behind him with a rigid posture as their slit-pupiled eyes watched the room with a creepy stillness.

The wolfkin chief, Skarn, sat tall, his face was an unreadable mask. Behind him, his boarkin vassals sat like boulders of muscle, stomping the ground once in agreement whenever their leader made the slightest motion.

The foxkin leader, Silver, however, bore a small, knowing smirk. Their people were not vassals to any of the apex races. Just like the dogkin, they were strong enough to retain their freedom on their own. His sharp, clever gaze flickered between the rulers with lips curling in amusement as if he alone knew the ending to the war these beastkin had yet to fight.

The necromancer exhaled suddenly, breaking the silence.

A single hoarse whisper left her lips, filled with venom.

“…Damned animals…”

It seemed she regained herself rather rapidly, as she turned toward the sole non-beastkin group of people, glaring at a white-haired woman who sat beside a tall man in a black mask, and began speaking in a raspy, pained tone.

“Vex the Hexblade… You sport the same arrogant features as ever… And I assume you are Devil, the Consortium’s new upstart… You already have a seat at the table, huh… They’re pampering their baby chick too much if you ask me… Worried you will up and leave their midst? Heh…” she chuckled at her own words as well as the way the man ignored her whole existence and then glanced at the people standing behind the pair. “Raika the Brutalizer… After spending more than a hundred years climbing the ladder, you’re standing behind a man who wasn’t even a member a month ago… Heh… Tell me, how does that feel? Ignis the Ashbringer is here as well, huh… Quite the team you got here…”

Raika did not acknowledge her existence just like Devil. She didn’t even shrug her shoulders dismissively.

“Enough already. Shut your mouth unless spoken to,” one of the princes instructed the necromancer before grabbing onto a chunk of her ruined shoulders and thrashing it with force, eliciting guttural screams from the woman.

Once her cries softened to pitiful whimpers, Vargis stood and cleared his throat. “Welcome to my home. I thank you for coming on such a short notice. We are not one of the races that favor flair and presentation, we’re people of action. As such, I propose we begin immediately.”

A chorus of agreements sounded until the foxkin leader cleared his throat. “The prisoner is a human brought to us by other humans. I smell conspiracy in the air. How can we trust them? I suggest we enslave all humans and extract information from them all.”

Vargis wasn’t having this. “Sova the Windbreaker and multiple other resistance members were present when they fought and captured the necromancer. Their testimonies are available should you need them.”

“Sure, sure…” Silver, the foxkin leader nodded along before speaking up with a sly grin, “Yet somehow, all of my warriors died during the supposed skirmish with the necromancer, while multiple soldiers of yours lived to tell the tale…” he then raised his head and began sniffing theatrically, *Sniff, sniff*

“Ah, yes. The stench of all you bastards who don’t know how to bathe is mixing perfectly well with the scent of ulterior motives.”

A sharp crack resounded through the hall as Vargis slammed his fist against the heavy oak table, the force of which caused the nearby goblets to fly high into the air before landing unceremoniously on the ground, spilling their contents. His golden eyes bore into the foxkin leader, his patience was clearly thinning.

“Watch your tongue! The dogkin do not engage in deception, and I will not sit here and allow you to insult the honor of our warriors nor the people I welcomed into my home as esteemed guests. The Resistance stands as a witness to the battle that took place, and our actions are not up for petty debate.”

Silver was far from intimidated. “A wild, outraged response, as expected of your ilk. You call us here for a talk yet you’re shouting after only spouting a sentence in a cultured manner… And I suppose we’re meant to just take your word as the truth? Forgive me if I don’t share your undying faith in the goodwill of others.” His gaze flickered toward the masked man as his smirk widened. “Besides, you expect us to trust those people who don’t even speak up in their defense and just sit there like obedient pups while the rest of us debate their fate?”

The masked man who was designated as the Consortium detachment’s leader during the talks, has been watching the exchange with mild amusement evident in his eyes. However, now, he finally let out a quiet chuckle. He met Silver’s gaze with calm, cold eyes. He was entirely unbothered.