Primordial Villain with a Slave Harem

With a joyously beating heart, I brought my ghostly blue saber out of my storage ring, collected the souls of my slain enemies, and readied myself mentally to face the lionkin reinforcements.

Strapped to each rider’s back was a quiver full of long javelins designed for aerial combat.

That wasn’t all of their gear, however. Strapped to the side of the mounts so that the items were easily accessible by the riders, lance-like weapons could be seen. These polearms were clearly intended to be used for close combat encounters, allowing the mounted lionkin to fight at mid-range with their javelins and close range with their polearms.

The wyverns screeched in unison as the formation split into coordinated teams, creating a wide net of impending doom above the battlefield.

Javelins were the first to rain down from above. The sharp whistle of deadly projectiles cutting through the air sounded, forcing BunBun to zigzag, narrowly avoiding the lethal barrage.

The lionkin riders didn’t relent; they descended in controlled spirals, ready to drive their long lances into any who dared oppose them. Their wyverns weren’t mere mounts either, they bit and swiped with their sharp claws at nearby fliers, tearing through flesh, fur, and feathers alike.

Their synchronized attack pattern made it clear—they had one objective: seize the skies, slaughter all opposition, and crush the morale of the resistance.

“Curses!” Unhappy swearing sounded from the female birdkin who seemed to be the captain of the resistance’s aerial force based on her earlier command of releasing the explosive vials. “Aerial units, ready yourselves! We have to take the wyvern-riders down before our sky maneuvering spells go on cooldown, otherwise, our land units will be forced to retreat into the tunnels where only a slow, embarrassing death awaits us!”

Instead of joining the other bunny and birdkin riders, I decided to follow a different path.

“Let’s go high once again, BunBun.”

The chaotic battlefield below became smaller and smaller as we ascended. I needed a clearer view of the lionkin’s tactics—and if I may be honest, I planned on using the resistance forces as bait to gauge their capabilities.

Rather they fall than I do.

Although outnumbered three to one, the lionkin riders still seemed to hold the advantage, and it wasn’t hard to see why. Each of their javelins and polearms outclassed the rather primitive bows and makeshift arrows carried by the forces of the resistance. Their projectiles barely scratched the wyverns’ thick scales, while the lionkin’s weapons effortlessly pierced wings and shattered bones.

One might wonder why were these beastkin so technologically behind the Vraven Kingdom and the Alliance of Elvardia. They were fighting wars with both of these nations, surely they could’ve captured some artificers or even just simple smiths and learned their ways, or at least enslaved them, creating crafter slaves.

The simple answer was the innate pride of beastkin. They were physically imposing forces of nature compared to humans, dwarves, and elves. In their culture, relying on something beyond one’s Goddess-given tools was the most shameful thing they could do.

Why were they using bows and arrows then?

There were two answers to that question.

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First, some of them weren’t. Only the non-apex predators used tools. The tigerkin, bearkin, and wolfkin refused to lower themselves to the level of shame the lionkin did.

Second, the less arrogant tribes did it out of necessity. Seeing no way but to swallow their pride, the different beastkin tribes like dogkin, foxkin, and many more began doing their best to catch up to the lionkin, igniting a technological race for supremacy.

However, the superiority of Ragnar’s crafts was only the smaller problem the resistance had to deal with.

What truly seemed to tip the scales in the favor of the wyvern-riding lionkin was the resistance’s reliance on sky-maneuvering spells.

Spells like [Sky Hopper] were potent but they came with cooldowns. Meanwhile, the lionkin could soar on their wyverns for days on end. Their mounts were tamed monsters with the innate ability of flight, after all.

I only saw one way for us to win, which was to act as fast as possible in order to make the best use of our numerical advantage until they shot most beastkin riders down from the skies.

To that end, I told BunBun to ascend higher than ever. Once we reached the altitude I was satisfied with, I glanced down to see the chaotic aerial combat the resistance forces conducted with the lionkin riders.

My biggest concern in joining the ongoing battle was that once it became clear I was a bigger threat than these archers, they would give chase and not let me breathe—or even worse, farm XP.

I nodded to myself, happy with the sight my eyes were showing. My targets were preoccupied enough now with their focus drawn entirely toward cutting down as many beastkin fliers as possible.

No one would be looking upward—not until it was too late.

I gave BunBun the signal, intent on repeating a similar maneuver to what we’d done before. Like the obedient steed she was, she instantly listened, dropping me into a freefall aimed right at my first target. I welcomed gravity’s ruthless pull to take control of my body, drastically increasing the velocity of my incoming strike.

An exhilarated grin found its way to my lips when I felt the wind scream in my ears as I plummeted like a falling star toward the unsuspecting lionkin formation below.

The first rider never saw me coming.

My saber made a gorgeous arc through the air, accompanied by the dance of its ethereal, ghostly blue flames before slicing clean through flesh and bone as I decapitated the lionkin from above. His headless body slumped forward before—with magnanimous help from my boot—slipping off the saddle and tumbling toward the battlefield below.

[You’ve slain level 33 Solrik. You’ve gained 4,139 XP.]

I had to double-take to confirm that I indeed just one-shot a level 33 muscular lionkin…

Just a few months ago, these beings would’ve killed me with a mere flick of their fingers, yet now, it was I who descended upon them like a grim reaper, ready to bring an end to their journey.

Once I seated myself on the monster, it began thrashing wildly, not happy with its new rider.

I tightened my grip around its body with my legs in order to stay mounted, before raising my saber on it.

The wyvern screeched louder after each slice and stab I delivered to its strong body, jerking and screaming like a frenzied bull in a futile attempt to dislodge me.

In an attempt to once and for all prove that the sentiment ‘women are better multitaskers than men’ was entirely false, I unleashed a barrage of spells on the nearby lionkin riders while I was busy butchering the wyvern.

“[Aqua Bolt]!” The condensed water projectile tore through a lionkin’s shoulder, forcing him to spin out of formation.

“[Fireball]”! Flames ignited and exploded against another rider’s side, scorching his mount.

“[Thunderclap Barrage!]” Bolts of crackling electricity arced through the sky, striking several more lionkin and their wyverns, forcing some into panicked retreats while others outright fell from the skies as a result of my spells.

The first wyvern beneath me finally gave up the fight for survival and began its descent to the depths below. For a moment, I watched blood streaming from its mutilated body as the monster hurtled downward in a death spiral with me still being mounted on it.

But then, raising my left hand high, I signaled BunBun, who had been waiting patiently above.

I leaped from the falling monster, feeling the rush of weightlessness for but a moment before BunBun’s dainty but strong arms caught my outstretched hand.

[You’ve slain a level 30 wyvern. You’ve gained 5,138 XP.]

“Good girl!” I exclaimed while glancing up into my bunny mount’s eyes.

“Hehe! BunBun is indeed a good girl!”

If I had a carrot, she would’ve received one right now. However, as I lacked such a veggie, I had to settle for following after the riderless wyverns and those whose masters were wounded from my earlier spells.

Intent on slaying them before they could find reinforcements, I instructed BunBun to drop me on my next prey, and just as so, the cycle repeated itself many times. I remained vigilant throughout the aerial battle, intent on not letting bloodlust get to my head. Biting more than I could chew would not help me achieve my goal set for this battle.