Primordial Villain with a Slave Harem

Chapter 1765: The Church’s Demand

"Before any agreement is reached," the Arch Priestess announced, her stare fixed on the armored figure at the center, "you must release the dead you’ve stolen, Necromancer."

The temperature of the discussion shifted.

"Necromancy is an abomination before the Goddess." Elisabeth’s voice rang with certainty. "Every dead you’ve chained to your service is a soul denied its rightful passage. You will release them, or no agreement forged here carries the Goddess’s blessing."

"Yes..." Skarn’s head dipped in agreement, reeling from his careless blunder with the dogkin.

Rajah’s followed a beat later. Keeping the fallen as soldiers was an insult to the kill.

"You’re wrong, Arch Priestess."

Ayame’s voice cut through, crystal clear and full of conviction.

Elisabeth’s head snapped toward her. "You again? I am the Goddess’s chosen representative, tasked with carrying out her will. You seem to be forgetting that part!"

"I have forgotten nothing." Ayame met the woman’s glare without flinching at the accusation. "I keep calling you Arch Priestess for a reason."

"Is that so?" Elisabeth’s eyes narrowed.

"Educate me, then."

Elisabeth’s hands went to her hips, sassy, waiting.

Ayame began walking forward. "With pleasure."

She’d been standing behind Quinlan since he’d squared off against Skarn and Rajah, content to let her lover handle the beastkin lords, but this was her domain now.

If Quinlan started defending himself, it’d sound weaker.

But, frankly, that was just an excuse. He was the Primordial Bullshitter, he could most certainly flip the tables on this hypocrite.

Thus, the real reason why Ayame felt the need to make a move of her own was that...

She was just done with this bitch’s bullshit.

Her boots stopped a pace from the Arch Priestess and she looked her straight in the eyes.

Unlike her arrogant primordial, the petite samurai did not stare anyone down.

In fact, she had to crane her neck back just to meet Elisabeth’s gaze. The height difference should have undercut everything, yet it didn’t.

If anything, the fact that this small woman had walked up to the Goddess’s chosen enforcer, visibly ready to tell her off, gave her a gravity of her own.

"The Goddess condemns ’necromancy’ with a lower n, which is now universally called Corpse Animation."

Hearing just that one sentence, Vex closed her eyes and began swaying her fingers back and forth, conducting an invisible orchestra because the yandere witch knew every word that would follow from her petite friend’s lips would be music to her ears.

"Corpse Animation is a corrupt art that puppets dead flesh. It is a sacrilege to the living and to the dead, and any practitioner who uses it deserves the judgment she prescribes."

Elisabeth’s hands dropped from her hips.

"Necromancy, with a capital N, is a brand new branch of magic that was never seen before, wielded only by a single entity in the whole wide world."

Black Fang watched her little sister’s back, and a strange glint appeared in her eyes.

"Quinlan’s souls retain their consciousness, their ’self’."

To the side, Serika was grinning from ear to ear and nodding along with every point.

"Please ’educate me,’ now, Arch Priestess. Because I just don’t know..."

"What is it...?" Elisabeth murmured, her tone having lost all its previous edge.

A smile spread across Ayame’s face, smug and victorious.

"Has the Goddess ever condemned Quinlan Elysiar by name? Has she declared his art a heresy that must be eradicated? Or are you deciding what your Goddess thinks without consulting her on the matter?"

Ayame knew, of course.

She knew exactly how much Lilyanna bitched and moaned about what Quinlan did with the dead, because what he did was far worse than Corpse Animation from a certain point of view.

He took the souls themselves, the ones the Goddess considered hers by right, and kept every last one until he no longer needed them.

Every Elite Soul in his army was a soul the soul ecosystem would never collect, and the Goddess was more than happy to screech about that ’theft’ any time of the day.

Quinlan would of course deny it being theft, citing how he even did some of the work for her. After all, when he used [Soul Fusion] to rank up Elite Souls, the consumed Lesser Souls would be purified and sent right into her lap, without her having to do the purification herself.

’Such logic does not seem to land very well in that hypocrite’s little pea brain, though...’ Ayame snickered inwardly, then with extreme satisfaction, she realized, ’I’m so damned happy Quin corrupted her pristine skin... Serves her right...’

But Ayame knew one more thing: Lilyanna might bitch and moan a lot, but she also never publicly condemned him.

Not for stealing her souls nor for corrupting her.

’She never will, either...’ Ayame kept her outward composure perfectly intact while a giggle built behind her ribs.

’Luminara and Mearie would spank that brat senseless if she even thought about doing as such.’

Elisabeth’s mouth opened, and what came out wasn’t words. "I... Y-you can’t simply-"

The stammering died on its own.

The Arch Priestess’s face went white as the full weight of what Ayame had done to her hit home.

She had been accused of heresy.

She.

Elisabeth Valorian.

The Dawn Breaker.

Chosen of the Goddess.

Deciding what the Goddess condemned without the Goddess’s explicit word was not a matter of interpretation or zeal. It was putting words in the divine’s mouth, and for an Arch Priestess, that was the single gravest sin her faith recognized.

Elisabeth’s gaze swept the circle, searching for support, for a single voice that would push back against the samurai’s logic, and found nothing. Not even from her own father.

"I’m not a man of theological debates, dear..." he shrugged, apologetic.

"Since we are on the topic of ’justice,’ Arch Priestess..." Ayame pressed on, nipping the family drama in the bud. "Once upon a time, a woman named Isolde came to your church with a dying daughter. The clergy quoted her one gold coin for the healing."

"One gold coin is a significant sum for the average worker, yes." Elisabeth steadied herself, seizing the familiar ground. "But the church cannot offer its services for free. If we removed the minimum price floor for healing sessions, the waiting lists would stretch for decades. No one would be healed at all."

Her voice found its footing again, bolstered by the logic she was reciting. "We offer favorable payment plans that even the humblest of men can afford. The church does everything in its power to make healing accessible to every follower of the Goddess."

Ayame’s gaze sharpened, predatory.

Elisabeth felt it before she understood it, a sudden wrongness in the air, as if she’d said something she shouldn’t have when everything she’d said was the truth.

"Oh, is that so?" Ayame’s voice dropped low, dangerously close to a purr. "I can’t deny the economics of supply and demand. I understand that not every injured person will receive healing no matter what your clergy does."

Elisabeth blinked, thrown by the concession.

"But did you know? The healing failed. Her daughter died."

The words landed like stones in still water. Elisabeth’s expression softened, and genuine sadness crossed her face.

"That is... a tragedy." The Arch Priestess lowered her head. "I offer my deepest condolences to the mother. The girl is with the Goddess now, in a place free of suffering."

Ayame’s smile turned outright sadistic.

"I’m afraid she’d spit on those condolences of yours, Arch Priestess."

Elisabeth’s chin jerked up. "W-what?! We are healers, not miracle workers! We cannot save every patient who comes through our doors! The Goddess grants us power, but that power has limits. I understand her grief, but-"

"Grief?" Ayame’s eyes darkened as she slowly shook her head. "If only it was the grief of a lost one..."

"What do you mean...?" Elisabeth asked, confused and worried.

"You couldn’t heal her daughter, fine. But did you really have to add four more gold coins in hidden fees after a mother has already committed everything she owns to save her dying child?"

The blood drained from Elisabeth’s face.

"No." The word left her lips before she could stop it. "That cannot be. It is strictly against the rules of the clergy to-"

"Your colleagues would argue otherwise." Ayame didn’t let her finish. "After all, they happily sold the grieving mother into debt slavery to collect."

She smiled softly at the stammering woman as she asked, "Is that also part of the Goddess’s justice?"