Primordial Villain With A Slave Harem - Chapter 739

Chapter 739: Taunt
– PoV: Quinlan –

“Blossom thinks Natalie and Poppy should not fight! They’re not only weakened but also traumatized!”

“Duufus, who are you calling weakened and traumatized? I want to fight! I have no illness a healer can’t heal, and I’m not fragile enough to become a mumbling mess from what I went through in captivity!” Poppy protested strongly before adding, “And even if I were, killing lionkin would be the best cure for any trauma.”

Blossom had now turned around in my lap, looking at them instead of me while happily dangling her legs back and forth on her favorite throne. Well, she was happy at least until her elder sister began demanding she be allowed onto the frontlines.

Now, my adorable dog-girl was becoming irritated.

At least, that was until Natalie walked up to her and began petting her head gently, with motions full of motherly affection. The woman didn’t seem one bit bothered by the fact that her daughter was seated on me, best evidenced by her leaning in and hugging her daughter.

“Blossom, I know you want us to rest so that we can heal properly, but neither of us would feel right knowing such a monumental battle was about to begin, especially with you risking your life out there.”

“Blossom won’t risk her life! Master will protect her!” I suspected Blossom knew she wasn’t telling the truth, as to my greatest sorrow, I wasn’t strong enough to guarantee her life wouldn’t be at risk. My educated guess was that she only wanted to ease the worries of her mother and sister so that they would accept being sent away from the fight if they knew she would be safe.

“Is that so…?” the mother asked amusedly before shaking her head. “We’ve known some of those women in the pen for months. They’re our friends, and I want to help them.”

“Ugh…!” Blossom sounded as if she’d been punched in the guts. But then, she weakly whispered: “Okay…”

…

Morning came slower than I liked. We’d waited until dawn to begin the siege. Naturally, not out of mercy, but necessity. No one truly knew what Lionheart might’ve hidden behind its thick walls now that they had found themselves such sneaky allies as the Covenant, and the various leaders had no intention of learning they had battlefield illumination artifacts the hard way. If the lions could flood the field with searing light at night, it would’ve thrown our forces into chaos. A sudden flash from above, a thousand beams of holy radiance… It wasn’t just possible, it was likely.

And while some of our forces, like the foxkin, were blessed with night vision, most others weren’t. The bearkin could barely see past their noses in the dark, and even the famed tigerkin weren’t immune to blindness when faced with lightning artifacts. As such, it was decided we would err on the side of caution.

Now, in the full light of day, I had sadly come to the realization that the siege setup looked less like a coordinated war effort and more like an awkward family reunion where every attendee had previously murdered at least three cousins.

We’d surrounded the city from every direction. Lionheart’s massive walls stood at the center of the tension like a fortress of pride. The beastkin races formed a rough ring around it, but no one dared to get too close to each other. Every camp was its own world, and no one mingled unless they had to.

Despite the temporary common goal uniting these people, generations of bloodshed don’t vanish overnight.

To the east, the tigerkin. Organized, disciplined, and eternally scowling at the bearkin stationed a little further north. South of them were the wolfkin, already sharpening weapons and growling at anything that moved. And a little to the west—wedged between the Consortium and bearkin force—stood the foxkin, Silver’s people.

That placement wasn’t accidental.

Silver wanted to be right next to us. Probably so he could use the fog of war to plant a dagger in my back and pretend it had always been there. But Vargis had stepped in and stopped his obvious attempt.

“I’m not camping beside the foxes,” he’d said bluntly. “I trust carrion birds more than you cunning pigs who worship illusionists.”

“Your own daughter is a Nine-Tailed Sorceress!” Silver hissed with irritation, but only got an “Exactly!” response from the old dog. Vargis knew better than anyone how eccentric his daughter was. She was a good girl who had a great head on her shoulders, but she didn’t represent her people’s reliability all too well.

As to why we didn’t invade through the usage of my [Warp Gate]? First, although it was likely a futile effort, I wanted to keep it hidden from the humans of the Consortium. It was why Vex executed Raiker and his failing team. Our hope was that the beastkin wouldn’t convey it to the Consortium due to the extreme mistrust between the sides.

But more importantly, it was because of the numbers present. My portal wasn’t made for mass teleportation, I couldn’t widen its dimensions. Only one person could pass through at a time, which would mean it would take hours to pass through for all combatants. Furthermore, where would those who pass through hide in wait for everyone to get through? They would likely get found out after a couple of thousand of them stepped in and would get butchered.

Anyhow.

Here we were, stationed between the Consortium and the wolfkin. Knowing today was going to be a giant massacre, we weren’t standing on the frontlines, nor was I planning any sudden ‘Quinlan BS’ that would put me in danger in exchange for potentially great rewards. Today wasn’t that sort of day. It was time for me to know my limits and play things smart.

To that end, we allowed the proud old dogkin grandpas and the eager youth to have the prestige of dying first while we observed, studying the methods of the lionkin defense.

“It’s about to begin…” Ayame muttered under her breath, watching Vargis walk in front of his troops and give his motivational speech. I could see Maelstrom doing the same a good distance from us, which was also true for Skarn, the wolfkin leader.

‘It’ began subtly: just a rising noise from the Lionheart walls at first. A rumbling chorus of cruel voices and mocking howls that soon overtook the battlefield.

The lionkin weren’t staying quiet while the leaders finished their final preparations.

Far from it.

From the ramparts high up on the walls, tens of thousands of them leered down with bared teeth and shining eyes full of sadistic amusement. And then, they brought them out.

The hostages.

Lines of them.

“What?!” Poppy shouted, and she wasn’t alone. Almost every single soldier around us reacted with a strong shout or growl.

Dogkin females and children were dragged to the eastern walls, directly in front of the soldiers of Vargis’s army. Wolfkin women and screaming pups were lined atop the southern battlements opposite the wolfkin legions. And facing the Consortium?

Humans.

Chained, stripped, and battered. Some looked like slaves, others like former Vesper agents who had the misfortune of being captured. None looked like they’d survived with their sanity intact.

And then it started.

With devilish grins, the lionkin soldiers began tearing into them.

Claws raked through soft flesh. Fangs dug into screaming throats. A little dogkin girl begged for her mother until a spear pierced her from behind, impaling her before flinging her like trash over the edge of the wall. A wolfkin woman—howling her mate’s name, who seemed to be among the besieging soldiers—was split open from stomach to sternum before her heart was torn out and waved at the army below like some grisly prize.

The lionkin roared with laughter as they watched the presumed husband tearing up and breaking formation, running to her desecrated corpse at the bottom of the wall. As if what they’d done wasn’t enough, they threw her heart right in front of him.

Another woman. Another child. A hundred of them at a time were brought to the walls, replacing the first wave of executed hostages. Now I understood why they held so many slaves in their pens. These ‘slaves’ weren’t slaves in the sense that most of them didn’t have magical, binding slave collars. The lionkin didn’t seem to have enough of the items, or perhaps they just knew it wasn’t necessary for what the slaves were going to be used for.

Magical control over these slaves wasn’t required if they were just going to be sacrificed.

I watched with great pain assaulting my heart as I saw a little dogkin girl get ripped apart while screaming from the bottom of her very soul before being hurled down the walls. Her mangled corpse bounced against the stone before splattering at the base.

“Drya! No!! Accursed heretics!” Poppy screamed as she reached for her dagger, only for Natalie to restrain her with tears of sorrow streaming down her cheeks. The more mature woman knew she couldn’t allow her daughter to lose her rationale before the fight even began. It would be a death sentence.

But I more than understood the red-haired dogkin girl. This was just plain horrible. Aurora vomited. Lucille teared up. Ayame, Seraphiel, and Kitsara let off a very unladylike cursing spree in perfect sync. Blossom instinctively reached for my hand, needing my reassuring presence as she herself began sobbing due to Poppy’s and Natalie’s grieving cries.

The dogkin troops broke first.

“Stop right this instant! All of you!” Vargis shouted, all for naught.

They were proud, disciplined warriors during normal times, willing to put their lives in the hands of their leader. But this?

This was heresy.

Heresy that needed to be stopped right this moment, no matter what.

Vargis hadn’t even finished his speech before the first howl of rage echoed out, followed by a chorus of furious barking voices. Blades were drawn. Axes lifted high. And then, the charge.