Primordial Villain With A Slave Harem - Chapter 789

Chapter 789: Arrival [Bonus]
I spent the next few minutes saying goodbye to my lovers and allies, all of whom wished me good luck and promised they would get much stronger should I be away for some time. Even Ayame and Iris stopped the catfight to say a proper goodbye, though they got back to it as soon as they could.

[Ding!]

[Primordial Rank-Up Mission initiating!]

The usual white nothingness overtook my senses, making me see and hear nothing for a moment before I arrived at the sealed primordial dimension. As always, my feet were planted on the edge of the floating continent, with the sea of clouds beneath the edge looking back at me.

However, this time around, there were no old bastards fishing in said clouds, nor overeager mommies awaiting their son’s return. I was welcomed by silence.

“How strange…”

I muttered, looking around. Indeed, no one was around. But then I shrugged my shoulders. It’s not like I can expect them to sit around fiddling on their thumbs, only waiting for me to return like dogs missing their owner who went to work.

I’m sure my mothers had better things to occupy themselves with, and I was happy for them. I didn’t want Lumi and Miri to be bored and lonely. Furthermore, I’d only just left a couple of days ago. The last primordial trial of mine took place when we stepped foot into the Beastman Confederation lands and helped Kargrim and the resistance forces fight against the lionkin, just before we encountered the necromancer and her large undead army.

It’s been like what? Three days since I left? They must’ve assumed they had a couple of weeks at least until I came back. After all, going from level 30 to level 39 max XP required nearly 7 million XP in total.

This awesome son of theirs must’ve done better than even their wildest estimations.

Hehe…

After my thorough self-glazing, I began walking toward the town square. The usual shimmer of divine energy that limited how long I could stay here before suffering repercussions lingered in the air, tingling against my skin. But otherwise, everything felt… still.

But then I soon began to hear it.

The sound of fighting.

It wasn’t subtle. The clash of overwhelming forces rang out like thunder. Shrill, feminine shrieks cut through the air like knives, followed by bestial grunts that rattled the sky itself. The distant tremors of unleashed mana made the very ground quake beneath my feet.

“Oh, for the love of… What are these oldheads doing now?!” I sighed, picking up the pace.

As I reached the stone-paved square, the full scene unfolded before me.

Malakar sat at the porch of a modest-looking house with his legs crossed, one hand holding a teacup while the other rested wearily on his cane. Beside him stood Karl, the primordial shapeshifter. He wore his seemingly favorite form: a bipedal pig-headed gentleman dressed in an immaculately pressed suit, complete with a monocle and bowtie.

They watched the madness unfold before them like two pensioners observing a particularly aggressive game of street chess.

And what madness it was.

Nyxara, the primordial succubus, danced across the cracked stone battlefield with a thorny crimson whip in her hands and a visible aura of pure lust and overwhelming feminine charm lingering around her. Her every movement pulsed with pheromonal magic, each step exuding an otherworldly seductive presence.

Opposite her stood Dragnar, the Primordial Dread. He was bare-chested beneath the shredded remains of his berserker robes.

“Let me taste the young baby primordial!” Nyxara shrieked, flicking her whip toward Dragnar’s face.

He grunted, swatting the strike aside. “I don’t even know what you’re talking about. But I’ll slay you anyhow.” His tone was as blunt and gravelly as ever, but there was a slight hesitation in his movements.

Nyxara grinned. “Oh? Is that so~”

Suddenly, a haze of violet mist enveloped her body, and she inhaled deeply before exhaling toward him. Her charm magic, backed by primordial succubus pheromones, wafted through the air like an intoxicating perfume. It hit Dragnar square in the face.

His pupils shifted instantly, twisting into heart shapes. His jaw slackened. A deep, guttural groan escaped his lips as a very noticeable bulge grew in his tattered robes.

I winced at the sight.

Karl adjusted his monocle.

Malakar kept staring at the sight with a deadpan, tired expression.

But I didn’t look away. No matter how cursed that image of Dragnar was, I wanted to see how a brute like him would handle being charmed. Knowledge was power, and these age-old monsters were my best chance at obtaining battle data from these unique fighting styles of theirs.

For a moment, he stood there, panting, nearly drooling. He was completely enthralled. But then his hands clenched into fists, and without warning, he slammed his palm into his own chest.

Dark red mana exploded outward in a spiral of blood. A jagged syllable etched itself into his flesh as he muttered a guttural incantation—”[Blood Purge]!”

The magic tore through his body like wildfire.

The heart-shaped pupils shattered. The fog in his mind cleared.

“You gay brute!” Nyxara screamed, fuming. “No wonder you went to bed with the pig-faced loser!!”

Karl, completely unbothered by the jab thrown his way, adjusted his tie. “Hey now, Dragnar thought I was his wife. It’s only me who did something extremely gay that day.”

Dragnar’s expression darkened as the last of the charm was burned from his body. “I didn’t know what your problem was before, but I no longer care. Now it’s personal. You’re going down and then I’ll spend the next hundred years strangling that slimy faggot.”

And then the duel truly began.

Dragnar charged like a freight train of muscle and hate, his giant axe covered in what seemed to be some dark aura, probably related to his Primordial Dread class.

Nyxara’s whip snapped like a serpent, blocking one strike before using her weapon to hurl herself sideways with Dragnar as the center of her rotation, letting her lay a myriad of kicks at the man with her high heels. The ground beneath them shattered with each blow she dealt, and he tanked. Dragnar began bleeding from her sharp heels impaling his thick skin, but I knew that only meant he was getting more powerful.

Berserker types were nasty enemies.

He grabbed onto her whip and yoinked it toward himself. But instead of letting the man get his hands on her, she let go of her weapon, and even before landing, she began casting.

Spires of magic erupted as Nyxara summoned illusions of herself surrounding her opponent from all angles, each whispering seductive lies, trying to seep back into Dragnar’s mind.

But he wasn’t having it.

He detonated a shockwave of dread energy, obliterating the illusions and barreling through the smoke. One punch landed square on her gut, sending her flying across the plaza and crashing into a nearby pillar. But she bounced back with an inhuman shriek, her wings that have been lying limply on her back flaring to life, extending wide.

It was beauty versus brutality.

Seduction against rage.

And neither side was backing down.

I finally walked over to the weirdo pig and Malakar, the latter of whom gave me a glance that could only be described as “done with everything.”

“Laddy… You’re back,” he muttered weakly.

“Indeed, old man.”

He nodded, “I’m surprised. I thought a wimpy lad like you would take a few months at the very least now that the XP requirements have drastically increased.”

My eyes trembled for a moment. But then I smiled at him, “Once again, your eternal wisdom has failed you, old man. I’m back already.”

“I can see that… What have you done?”

“I jerked off on a Geim, birthing a unique tree spirit girl whose fruit gave me 10x boost to my experience gains for 48 hours upon its consumption, after which I burned down a lionkin metropolis with over a million people in it.”

“…” For the first time since my arrival, he slowly moved his wrinkled face to stare up into my eyes.

“Are you sure you aren’t his father, Malakar? He reminds me of you,” Karl chirped. “His pair of mothers are crazy, sure, but they’re not the arrogant and egotistic conquering type of lunatics like you were back in the day. They’re just… unhinged mothers. Quite frankly, he’s basically a more masculine and slightly stronger version of your newborn self.”

“You may shut up now.”

“Yes, sir.”