Primordial Villain With A Slave Harem - Chapter 759

Chapter 759: Differing Opinions
“Black Fang…” Maelstrom growled with extreme displeasure.

Instead of being happy that another department head arrived to reinforce the ranks of their syndicate, the man was anything but joyous to notice her presence. The rumors of these two beings as rivals as far as their departments went, and also personal enemies, were definitely holding a lot of truth to them.

I had to give it to Black Fang, though. She was right. Although it was impossible for me to get a proper count, I wouldn’t be surprised if the original 30,000+ army was reduced to half of its members based on the innumerable number of human corpses strewn all around the battlefield.

“What in the name of the Goddess are you doing here?”

The woman made no effort to answer, not even changing her expression.

“We were ambushed by an enormous Covenant force. Our scouts were somehow rendered ineffective, probably by some long-range dark magic we had no previous knowledge of,” Maelstrom defended himself.

“I see,” Black Fang said, her face a porcelain mask of indifference that was utterly unmoved by his attempt at a defense.

Maelstrom must’ve come to the same conclusion, because he continued, “And even with these horrible circumstances, we dealt a giant blow to them! Millions of their minions and thralls have been destroyed, their forces have suffered an even bigger blow than we did! It’ll take them a long time to recreate these numbers. And this was all done despite them being the ones who got the jump on us. I’d say this is a major achievement for the Consortium.”

“Is that so?” Black Fang asked.

“That is so!” Maelstrom hissed, annoyed by the extreme expressionless, nonchalant manner in which Black Fang spoke to him. It was as if she thought the man to be a petulant, rowdy teenager boy, despite him being likely twice her age, if not more.

But then, the purple-eyed woman parted her lips, willing to speak for longer than a sentence this time around.

“Your summary is convenient. Mine differs… vastly. The army would’ve been destroyed had the fire not been started inside the walls of Lionheart, making the lionkin break ranks, which in turn allowed two other armies to reinforce yours. The fire, which, by the way, was the result of the teamwork between my second disciple and my sponsored Vesper Phenom, Devil.”

She put special emphasis on the word ‘my,’ and gestured with her eyes toward us, prompting the mustached man to observe me from head to toe, which included the woman in my arms. He leered with anger oozing from his features, “You expect me to believe that? What? Did your disciple learn how to create giant explosions? She went from casting curses to causing city-wide devastating fires?”

… The idea that it was I who was responsible for the fire didn’t even occur in his mind. I was likely thought to be just the transporter boy who used [Airwalk] to drop her into the city square. Being so looked down upon didn’t feel pleasant one bit, but at the same time, I was proud because it told me my great efforts to hide my true strength from the Consortium were quite successful.

However, that wasn’t meant to last. With all that I’d done in these lands, it was only a matter of time before some truths sprinkled back to the Vraven Kingdom. That was if Black Fang didn’t outright rat me out right here and right now.

Thankfully, that didn’t seem to be the case, as the woman turned her back on the man and completely ignored him from here on out. It was evident she saw no reason to argue with him; she’d already said all that needed to be said.

Just as she began walking away, Kitsara’s shout brought me out of my contemplations. “Brother! No!”

She sprinted forward with such haste that her legs barely seemed to touch the blood-soaked earth beneath her. I followed her gaze, then turned toward the direction she ran, toward a cluster of dogkin and sheepkin standing idly by, all tightly gathered around something. No, someone.

As we approached, the scene became clear. A large man lay sprawled on the ground, half-buried in blood-soaked mud. His once-pristine armor was in tatters, twisted and dented. He wasn’t moving.

And kneeling beside him, her white priestly robes now streaked with red, was a sheepkin woman whose entire body trembled as she wept. Her white curls clung to her tear-drenched cheeks.

Princess Delilah. The first wife of Prince Darius.

One of the most revered healers on the entire continent.

And yet… she wasn’t healing.

As we closed in, I could finally see the full damage. Darius, the beast of a man who had displayed his extreme prowess firsthand to us, was grinning up at the sky with a crooked, pained smile. One of his legs was gone—torn clean off at the thigh—and the left side of his face was a ruin. His eye had been gouged out, the socket charred black. Despite the horror of his condition, he chuckled upon sensing my arrival.

“Heh… These damned Covenant bastards got me good, Devil.”

The dogkin around him went still at the name, some stealing glances at me, but I barely noticed. My attention was on Delilah, her hands pressed against his shredded wounds, but glowing with nothing. No divine light. No healing aura. Just the soft, broken sobs of a woman who should’ve been able to fix this, yet couldn’t.

It didn’t make sense.

But then I looked closer and I saw it.

Woven through the edges of Darius’s wounds—just beneath the blood, nestled between torn muscle and ruined skin—were thin, dark threads. Almost imperceptible at first glance, but now that I focused, I saw them clearly. They slithered like parasites pulsing with a sickly dark violet shine. They branched outward, like roots growing through his flesh, anchoring themselves deeper into his body.

“You’re wondering why she’s just crying,” Darius said, guessing my thought process.

He gave another dry chuckle, one that turned into a cough of blood, painting his lips red. “The bastards… they laced their magic into their weapons. Can’t be healed. Not by her. Not by any holy light. The moment she tries, it just digs deeper. Burns hotter.”

Delilah let out a choked sob and pressed her forehead to his chest. “I tried, I-I tried so many spells, Darius! I thought maybe if I just-if I just-“