Primordial Villain With A Slave Harem - Chapter 775

Chapter 775: Family Picnic
While Quinlan was busy pounding away at Vex to properly welcome his beloved eighth woman into the Elysiar family, his stronghold was buzzing with life.

Under the shade provided by Rosie’s tree, a small group of ladies had gathered on a picnic blanket. The late afternoon sunlight filtered through the leaves in soft beams, making the whole scene look like something ripped straight from a masterful painting.

Everyone in the Elysiar family was there except for Jasmine, who couldn’t leave her Consortium duties on such short notice, and Kitsara, who was tending to her injured brother, and of course, Vex and Quinlan. In their stead, three new faces had joined the circle: Poppy, Lyra, and Iris. They had all been roped into the little celebration meal after their triumphant return from the beastkin war.

Meanwhile, far off to the side, Kaelira — that ever-dutiful, perfectionist tomboy elf — was holding an emergency team meeting. Her poor subordinates wore identical wry expressions as they stole long, desperate glances at the lively picnic they were missing out on. Yet, not one of them wanted to defy Kaelira’s wishes. As such, their heavy footsteps could be heard as they marched toward a long evening of lectures and “battle performance evaluations.”

Still, the ladies at the picnic had every intention of making the most of this rare, serene afternoon… or they would have, if not for Rosie.

The tiny dryad girl — the eccentric and endlessly dramatic Rosie — was curled up in Blossom’s lap, nuzzling her face deeply into Blossom’s soft, voluptuous breasts as though seeking refuge from the cruelty of the world. Her leafy green hair fluffed and bounced with every exaggerated sob of hers.

“Daddy…! Rosie misses Daddy sooo much…!” she wailed between sniffles, her small hands reaching for Blossom’s chest in search of comfort.

“There, there, Rosie,” Blossom cooed, gently stroking Rosie’s hair with slow, comforting circles, doing her utmost to replicate what she remembered from her childhood when Natalie comforted her when she was a little, scared pup who got scared at the idea of hunting in the forest. “Daddy will be back soon, okay? Blossom promises.”

Rosie just whimpered and burrowed deeper into the marshmallowy haven that was Blossom’s chest, letting out a loud, exaggerated snuffle that would have been heartbreaking if it wasn’t so clearly played up for maximum pampering.

There was a very good reason why the mischievous daughter of theirs was in Blossom’s arms despite 5 of her mothers (since Aurora is only her sister) being present. Rosie targeted Blossom specifically because she knew her dogkin mother would believe she was really freaking out and pamper her the greatest.

The rest of her mothers would’ve caught onto her ploy sooner or later, best evidenced by their deadpan expressions with which they stared at the dryad girl. A serious talk would take place soon, one that the little lady wouldn’t like one bit, but Blossom enjoyed playing the mother role too much for them to do it right now.

Poppy, the redheaded dogkin sister of the Void Stalker-classed airhead, watched the whole scene unfold with a look of thinly veiled shock. Sitting cross-legged on the blanket, she muttered under her breath, “I will never, ever get used to seeing Scatterbrain act like a mom… and she became one before me at that! Unbelievable!”

Rosie, oblivious to all the attention she was gathering from the rest of the picnic crew, or perhaps simply not caring, tightened her grip around Blossom’s chest, whining pitifully. “Rosie is so lonelyyyy… Daddy always cuddles Rosie… Daddy always carries Rosie everywhere… Rosie can’t survive without her Daddyyyyyyy!”

“What do you mean always? He’s barely here. You were perfectly fine playing with Lady Yoruha in his absence…” Aurora muttered wryly but got completely ignored by the dramatic little dryad who even went as far as to move her two small hands toward Blossom’s ears to shield them in an attempt to ensure she doesn’t hear her big sis’ sacrilegious words.

She didn’t need to fear, for Blossom was too happy pampering her daughter to pay attention to Aurora.

So much so that she was absolutely beaming. The blonde dogkin tightened her arms around the sniffling little dryad, burying Rosie even deeper into her chest, rocking her gently back and forth. The dryad’s previous sobs melted into a stream of delighted giggles, her small body squirming like a kitten overwhelmed by affection.

“Rosie feels so safe with Mommy Blossom…! Ehehehe~!” she squealed happily like a spoiled baby.

“Blossom loves Rosie!”

“Rosie loves Blossom!”

Watching the scene unfold, Ayame let out a long, tired sigh.

“Our cheeky little daughter has certainly inherited her father’s love for his mommies…”

“And it’s so adorable!” Seraphiel giggled joyously, watching the mother-daughter pair have the time of their lives.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Lucille nodded, greatly struggling not to be overly envious of her dogkin friend.

Aurora then began murmuring under her breath with a troubled tone, “Honestly… ever since Rosie was born, I can’t bring myself to call Quinlan ‘Daddy’ anymore. It makes me feel like a weirdo.”

Ayame gave a polite, almost professional cough into her hand, but it didn’t hide the sly undertone in which she wordlessly told her, “That’s because you are a weirdo, Aurora. We’ve all thought so for a long time.”

The women around the blanket burst into merry laughter, and even Poppy joined in, as she quickly found herself liking this odd group of ladies her little sister had found herself in a harem with.

“Hey!” Aurora cried out in annoyance, glaring at them all with eyes that told tales about the betrayal she was feeling right now. Her pout was so theatrical that it only made everyone laugh harder.

Well… not everyone.

Iris was far too preoccupied with shoving a frightening amount of food into her mouth, so much so that her cheeks bulged like a chipmunk’s. If one saw her current state, they would think this black-haired woman hadn’t eaten anything in weeks.

The maids had outdone themselves for the picnic, and she seemed determined to personally demolish half the banquet in one sitting.

While Blossom continued her crusade of love and Rosie continued to bathe in it, Lucille leaned lazily back on her hands and glanced toward Poppy.

“By the way, where did your mom run off to? Haven’t seen Natalie around.”

Poppy wiped a crumb off her mouth and replied with a casual shrug of her shoulders, “The beautiful elf lady approached her, dragged her off for a ‘tour of the place,’ she called it.”

At that, Seraphiel let out a small, knowing hum. “Ah, that must be Mother… She’s called Sylvaris. That aloof woman must’ve been thrilled to finally meet a fellow mother to talk to.”

Lucille’s eye twitched. She straightened her spine, feeling greatly wronged. “Hey! I’m a mother too! What’s wrong with me?!”

Aurora didn’t miss a beat, shooting a sweet — far too sweet considering she was enraged until a moment ago — smile at Lucille. “Yeah, a mother who’s sleeping with her daughter’s man. Pretty sure there are some barriers between the two of you that she finds hard to ignore… After all, she’s going to be your mother-in-law once Quin finally places a ring around our fingers.”

Lucille whimpered, realizing the platinum-haired girl might be onto something.

“I wonder what they’re talking about… Motherhood…” Lyra whispered with a puzzled face. As a girl who grew up in an orphanage, she never interacted with her mother, so she had a hard time imagining how Natalie’s and Sylvaris’ conversation might be different from what she, a single girl without a child, might be able to conduct.

A dry, and utterly deadpan voice of Iris sounded, speaking for the first time since the picnic began:

“Maybe they’re bonding over having their daughters kidnapped and enslaved by humans.”

A heavy, uncomfortable silence followed the comment.

Only Ayame, the blunt samurai, cracked an amused snort. “Heh. Didn’t know you knew how to tell jokes. If this was your attempt at a joke, that is. Don’t worry, we all have to start somewhere. Maybe in a few decades of trying, you’ll receive a small laugh from your audience.”

Without even looking up from her plate, Iris replied flatly, “You can shut up now, you damned oriental midget. Your horrible screeching ruins the taste of my meal.”

“Iris, Iris, Iris. Whatever shall I do with you?” Ayame chuckled ominously in response, pretending to be unfazed by her rival’s words, who now completely ignored her. At the same time, the others exchanged helpless looks between one another, torn between laughing or sighing at the pure absurdity their peaceful picnic had become.