Primordial Villain with a Slave Harem

Chapter 989: Changes in the Soul Realm

Sensing something stir deep within his Soul Realm, Quinlan moved to stand.

Or tried to.

But the woman kneeling between his two legs had other plans.

Vex clung to him like a greedy octopus, her arms looping around his waist as she nuzzled deeper into his lap, which in turn meant her throat welcomed even more of his length into her moist depth. Her white ponytail spilled across his thigh, and her fingers tightened, firm enough to tell him: ’you are forbidden from leaving.’

Quinlan rested one hand on Vex’s head, his fingers threading through her snowy locks with a great deal of affection. Her body leaned into the touch instinctively, purring more than breathing—as that was an action with which the Hexwitch greatly struggled right now.

His gaze slid downward.

Streaks of ruined makeup darkened her cheeks, smudged from heat and passion both. And still, she looked up at him like he was the only thing that mattered in the world.

He exhaled and placed both hands on her head, gripping onto her skull. “Is this really what you want?”

The meaning behind his question was understood instantly by Black Fang’s student. She nodded her head in confirmation as her mouth was far too occupied to respond.

“So be it.”

With that declaration, Quinlan’s grip tightened, becoming a firm hold that locked the woman in place where she kneeled.

At the same time, he summoned a dome of earth around them and lit a small fire for illumination.

<You’re possessive even when it comes to soon to be dead men?> Vex giggled.

“Kitsara might be right, you seem to have some faulty memory faculties, old wife. Don’t you remember I even made my soul soldier turn away from the sight of your naked body during our first time together?”

Vex eyes widened at his words which she didn’t like one bit, but before she could mount an offensive of words at him…

He drove into her, deep and relentless, instantly evaporating any such thoughts the woman might’ve held beforehand. He forced her head back, her throat stretching to accommodate his full length. Vex didn’t flinch or pull away; instead, a guttural moan ripped from her, a sound of pure, unadulterated pleasure.

Her body arched into each forceful thrust, meeting his aggression with an eager, desperate need. The roughness of his movements only seemed to heighten her arousal, her fingers digging into his thighs as they released his waist, knowing he was no longer trying to run away from his husbandly responsibilities.

It didn’t take Quinlan long to push her to her limits, eliciting a series of broken gasps and choked moans that were music to his ears. Her eyes, wide and heavy-lidded, remained locked on his.

Soon, a final, shuddering thrust emptied him, and his [Blessed Seed] exploded forth, overflowing her moist depths and decorating her belly in a warm, slick sheen. Vex shivered just as a deep, contented sigh escaped her.

“You know…” Quinlan murmured while reaching for the underside of her chin with a single finger and pulling it up so he could bask in her overtly sexy face that was full of ruined makeup and tears of joy, “Far be it from me to complain, but don’t you have somewhere to be? You joined us to fight Sareth Greenvale, which happened hours ago. Didn’t you abandon an important location to do so?”

Her eyes widened.

A beat passed.

And then, slowly—reluctantly—Vex blinked as the haze of lust gave way to memory. She sat back on her heels, lips still wet, but at least her breathing was slowly steadying.

“Oh… fuck me.”

“Later.”

Still kneeling, she looked up at him with fire still dancing behind her lashes. “You know I didn’t mean it like that, but good. I’ll hold you to it. As for your words… I’ll go back soon. I just needed to be here. To see it. Jasmine’s revenge… It’s beautiful.”

“That it is.” Quinlan nodded in agreement. He wasn’t Vex’s father nor her boss, so if the woman deemed she could stay a bit longer, then he was more than fine with it. Vex was her own person with her own responsibilities.

Still, he couldn’t shake what was going on in his Soul Realm. “Ladies, please keep Jasmine company while I leave for a short bit. I must check something out. Serika, you might want to come with me.”

Serika arched a brow at his words. “The Soul Realm?”

Quinlan gave a single nod.

There was a flicker of understanding in her eyes. Her posture straightened. She set her wine down and stood immediately.

Without another word, she stepped beside him, and together, they entered after Quinlan sat back down so that his real body could remain here while his mind traversed.

The realm opened around them.

Time felt slower here. Tranquil. Unmoving.

And yet…

Something had changed.

Quinlan’s gaze swept the field, his mind immediately cataloguing the knowns:

Rykar sat exactly where he had for months now, cross-legged and meditating.

Rosie hovered in the air near the man, her little green hands glowing as she maintained the strange magic of hers while her tree branches helped her out with whatever it was that she was doing.

But where Lysandra’s corpse had once been, there was now only a blooming flower. Her body was nowhere in sight.

Petals of pale water-blue, with hints of silver, opened slowly in a rhythm akin to slow breathing. It wasn’t just any flower; it radiated the residue of a soul long since shed. Lysandra was gone.

Just then…

A subtle crack echoed in the silent realm.

Rykar’s eyes opened.

For the first time in months.

His eyes were calm, yet shone with the intensity of someone who had been submerged in truth far beyond normal comprehension.

At the exact same moment, Rosie released a sharp puff of breath and let her hands fall to her sides. She flopped backward into a sitting position on her branch with a little squeak.

“Whew~!” she huffed, wiping her forehead dramatically with her wrist. “That took soooo long.”

Then her senses spotted him.

Her entire body lit up like springtime sunlight. With a joyful squeal, she kicked off the branch and dove. In a blink, she was at Quinlan’s location, latching onto his face with her full body.

“Papa!” she chirped, rubbing her cheek against his like a nuzzling squirrel. “I’m done!”

Quinlan reached up with one hand, gently patting her back as she coiled herself tighter around his head like an overexcited sloth.

“Done?” He couldn’t help but ask. Was this… it? She turned Lysandra into a flower? ’I mean, she’s a very pretty flower, but…’

He was hoping for more.

Based on Serika’s teary eyes, so was she. But at least her father seemed to be back mentally. Serika’s throat tightened. She didn’t speak as she walked forward, step by slow step, until she came to a stop before the withered man who had once shaken mountains with his fists.

Rykar sat tall despite his condition, his shoulders still broad, his jaw still firm. But his body bore the proof of betrayal: the stumps where his limbs had once been. The cost of surviving Nalai’s assassination attempt. The cost of being a father, an imperfect one.

She knelt without hesitation.

And then Serika wrapped her arms around her father’s torso, burying her face against his shoulder.

“Look who decided to wake up finally…” she sniffled the accusation, though no hate could be sensed in her tone.

Rykar didn’t say anything in response. With only his shoulders and upper chest left to work with, he leaned into her, embracing her as best he could with what remained of his battered body. “You’re right. I was weak and retreated into my shell to escape the harshness of reality.”

“No! I’m not angry or anything…” Serika declared instantly.

“Your feelings do not change facts, Daughter.”

Before she could respond, however, Rykar decided to move on. He visibly didn’t want to be coddled for his weakness.

“In my meditative state… I was still aware. I heard it all. Felt it all. It was like listening through water, but I heard every word, every spell, every scream.”

His gaze shifted. “Especially from your friend there. Or should I call her my granddaughter…?”

He nodded toward Rosie, whose leafy ears perked up with an alarmed jolt.

But Rykar wasn’t done. His expression shifted from solemn to oddly playful. A slow grin crept across his lips, a grin that didn’t belong to a broken man, but to a father indulging a mischievous child.

“Young lady… You said you’re done, but that’s not true, is it? Are you trying to play a prank on your father?”

Rosie froze mid-wiggle.

“Eep!”

A single bead of sweat ran down her little forehead. Her feet stiffened atop Quinlan’s shoulder. Then, in a flash of movement, she leaned forward and smooched his forehead with an apologetic little kiss.

“I’m sorry, Papa!” she blurted, hugging his head even more strongly than before. “I was gonna tell you after you got all curious and worried! It’s funnier that way!”

Quinlan gave her a look in response, stern and flat.