Primordial Villain With A Slave Harem - Chapter 741

Chapter 741: Testing the Barrier
The lionkin, now safely tucked behind their shimmering veil of arrogance and arcane protection, began to leer once more.

Like cockroaches emerging after the danger had passed, they dragged their hostages back to the walls—limp, bloodied, weeping. And just like that, the executions resumed.

Dogkin women were lifted by their throats and held up to the besiegers like trophies before being run through with spears. Children were hurled from the heights of the ramparts like garbage. The wolfkin had it no better: their elders were gutted slowly with hooks as their own kin were forced to watch.

And yet… their cruelty was now met not with impulsive charge, but with bared fangs and fists clenched to breaking.

Almost no one rushed to their deaths this time.

The dogkin and wolfkin stood firm as their eyes were now locked onto the city with cold, merciless promises of what was to come. Vargis barked orders to hold formation. Skarn glared at the walls like a starving beast ready to devour his meal whole.

They wouldn’t forget.

And they wouldn’t forgive.

As the barrages from our side continued, I stood amidst the dust and waves of mana and observed carefully, trying to pierce through the noise, the light, the chaos, looking for patterns.

It didn’t take long.

The first thing I noticed was subtle, but undeniable: the wall was sturdier than the barrier. Mana-infused boulders and violent quakes rippled through the ancient stones, but did little to no damage. However, the barrier rippled violently, like a pond struck by a dozen stones every time a powerful spell landed.

But more than that… the shape of the spell mattered.

Wide-area spells like Fireball or Stormlash would scatter across the surface, making their impact distributed and dulled.

But concentrated magic?

An [Ice Spear] from one of the Consortium sorcerers left a crack that glowed for nearly three seconds before sealing.

[Water Bullets], the cheap spells available to simple Wizard-class beginner mages, had a better effect than some large-scale destructive spells that cost more than ten times the mana to cast.

That was enough for me.

It was time to test a hypothesis.

I tapped into our telepathic link.

<Sera, Shallan, let’s run some tests.>

<I was getting tired of waiting, Lord Quinlan,> Shallan replied in my head, grinning as she held her staff and pointed it at Lionheart while her eyes took on the storm-gray hue of a brewing cyclone.

She swept her staff outward like a conductor, and a dozen focused wind projectiles spiraled forward, slicing currents so condensed they hummed like razors. Each one struck the barrier with a visible shock, ripples spreading outward in bright rings of blue light.

Beside me, Seraphiel summoned her [Divine Arsenal]. From the gleaming portal of light, a radiant longbow emerged. It had no string, no wood, just a magical item made up of golden mana. The arrows she loosed were bolts of raw energy, condensed by her so that they were thin but wickedly fast, striking the barrier with pinpoint precision.

Each impact sent visible fractures spiraling through the protective field. They were tiny but definite.

Good.

And then I joined in.

While I now wielded the power of the Avatar of the Elements, with access to the very will of nature as far as the four basic elements were concerned, I still retained spells from back when I walked the path of the Elemental Sovereign—spells made by the Soul Record itself so that mortals could cast them with their limited understanding and affinity for the elements.

They weren’t flexible. I couldn’t shape them like my Avatar abilities. This was why I highly preferred solving my problems with my Wind, Earth, Fire, and Water Creation & Manipulation techniques.

But the spells I hadn’t used in recent times were still effective in specific cases.

Furthermore, it was time to remind the world that Devil was the Elemental Sovereign who had access to multiple deviant elements.

I raised one arm to the sky, calling forth the storm.

“[Thunderclap Barrage].”

A series of sharp lightning bolts rained down, targeting the same section of the barrier in rapid succession. Each blast struck like a hammer to a drum: fast, focused, devastating.

With my other hand, I summoned jagged spires of frozen death.

“[Icicle Barrage].”

They screamed through the air and slammed into the same weakened spot. The barrier shuddered and sparked under the strain.

I opened my palm and whispered, “[Molten Rain].”

Thousands of droplets of lava were conjured in midair and hurled down like mini liquid meteors. Unlike a fireball, these were condensed, each one slamming into the shimmering shield like drops of burning steel. They hissed as they hit, melting into the arcane construct, leaving behind blackened scorch marks that quickly faded, but not before leaving their impact.

The spells weren’t overly graceful.

They weren’t elegant compared to what I could manifest with my newer abilities.

But they were mighty and highly effective.

And people were watching.

Across the lines of the Consortium, shouts spread like wildfire.

“Was that…?!”

“Did you see the timing on that Lightning? He cast it together with the ice projectiles!”

“Who the hell is that?”

“The masked one… the one in the dark armor… that’s him, isn’t it?”

“…Devil. That has to be Devil.”

“I’ve been told this young lad can cast his spells without needing even hand gestures, let alone wands or staves, but I didn’t believe those rumors…”

“No wonder even Lady Black Fang took an interest in him. After more than a hundred years of silence, she left her seclusion just to see him during the Phenom Trials…”

“Why the hell did I have to wed my hottest daughter away to a damned loser cuck just a month before this guy made his appearance?! The others might as well be blokes, based on their non-existent chest… They’ll never manage to charm a giant whale like this with their sad assets.”

“What did you just say about my son?!”

However, the lionkin weren’t just lounging on their walls, tossing corpses and cackling like deranged lunatics. For all their bloodthirsty bravado, they knew how to defend a city.

Furthermore, they had defensive artifacts.

Lots of them.

Ballista-sized magical crossbows, mounted onto rotating steel turrets. Flaming projectors hissing with alchemical pressure. Gleaming crystal launchers that pulsed with mana and launched concentrated shockwaves. Some were manned by grim lionkin mages or engineers. Others spun and shifted on their own, being so advanced that they worked based on the commands etched into their metal plating, making them automated defensive systems. And their programming seemed to include prioritizing spellcasters with their targeting, alongside siege weaponry, and more such grave threats.

We had caught their attention.

I had caught their attention.

My barrage spells had apparently marked me as a high-value threat—if the charging noise from a distant, rune-covered cannon meant anything. I felt it before I saw it.

A howling bolt of pressurized air screamed toward me, wrapped in sparks and condensed flame.

Reflexively, I raised my hand and brought up a shimmering plate of mineral and stone forming a curved wall before me.

It wasn’t going to be enough.

The incoming blast was too fast, too hot. The pressure alone cracked the edges of the shield before it even landed.

But before I could cast something else…

“Please allow me.”

Shallan stepped in front of me.

Her voice was calm, but her eyes had already turned storm-gray, and her hair lifted like it was caught in a mighty current. She held out her staff and whispered her next spell.

The incoming artifact blast slowed in the air, becoming suspended before, with a grunt of effort, she redirected it.

Not just deflected.

Redirected.

The projectile curved in the air, arcing back toward the city like a vengeful spirit, and crashed into the upper walls, detonating with a thunderous *BOOM!* that sent several lionkin defenders flying off the ramparts.

But more were coming for me.

No sooner had the shockwave from the redirected blast finished echoing than another shriek of magical pressure tore through the air, then another, and another. A coordinated barrage. Not just on me: nearly every high-level spellcaster on the field was being targeted relentlessly.

And yet, a pink flock of hair flashed in my peripheral vision.

“My Lord! [Rosewall]!”

Lyra shouted before she intercepted the next attack mid-air. The incoming blast slammed into her armored body with all the fury of an exploding sun.