Primordial Villain With A Slave Harem - Chapter 1048: The King’s Response

Chapter 1048: The King’s Response

The king’s gaze swept to the young woman before him without forming a single expression.

Kaede met his eyes with the same unreadable poise.

They stood like statues carved of different stones—his a monument to ancient endurance, hers to unyielding purpose.

Blood pooled in a quick spread beneath her feet, each ripple of the crimson mirror touching the hem of her white-and-silver yukata until it bloomed into a deep, violent red. Droplets traced down her cheek and chin, marking her face in streaks that made her look less like a noblewoman and more like a wild goddess of war.

The chamber held its breath.

Seconds crawled by. The silence between them grew heavier until it became a living thing, a phenomenon that wrapped around every noble’s throat and held it shut.

Then, King Alexios rose.

It was not the hurried jerk of a man startled, but the measured, deliberate ascent of someone who had stood before armies and made the skies tremble with his presence.

With a slow exhale, he extended one hand. Air shimmered around his palm as if the world itself bent in recognition of his will. From the far end of the throne room, a scabbarded sword tore free of its resting place, crossing through hallways and entering the feast in a streak of light before landing in his grasp.

Alexios lowered its tip to the marble before him. The sound of steel kissing stone echoed like a temple gong. Power radiated outward, heavy and solemn, making even the bravest hearts in the room feel suddenly small.

When he spoke, his voice was deep, unhurried, and absolute.

“Let it be recorded, and let it be remembered for as long as this kingdom endures: under the leadership of Kaede Fujimori, the Fujimori clan has accomplished a feat unmatched in living memory.

When the Vraven Kingdom and its ducal lands festered with human parasites who bled its strength and strangled its prosperity, she has done what others—her peers, her predecessors, and those who call themselves her equals—have failed to do since time immemorial.

She has purged them.”

The king’s eyes, still locked on hers, seemed to pierce past flesh into the very steel of her soul.

“The Silverwind Duchy and her new Duchess stand as a testament to what is possible when one has the will to do whatever it takes.”

“Such exemplary work,” Alexios continued, “cannot go unrewarded. Tell me, Kaede Fujimori. What is it you desire?”

Kaede’s reply came without hesitation.

“I want for nothing.”

The king regarded her in silence, the same emotionless eyes fixed upon her as before. Yet somewhere, deep within, a ripple stirred.

For a fleeting moment, Alexios felt the weight of her answer settle on his shoulders like an old, familiar cloak. The difficulty of giving to someone who does not desire… he had lived it his entire life.

The awkward truth of being ungrateful not by intent, but by the absence of need. The same truth that had, on countless occasions, left others standing awkwardly before him, gifts in hand, wondering how to honor a man who could not be bought nor tempted.

Now he stood in their place, looking at her.

“When the time is right, I will reward you.”

He said at long last.

Kaede simply stepped back and melted once more into the ordered ranks of dukes.

The elders of the Fujimori clan moved without command, gliding to the table where Kaede had sat before the announcement. Their motion mirrored the other noble houses, families, and advisors taking their places beside their ducal leaders, as protocol dictated.

The atmosphere shifted. The feast was nearly done.

It was time for the final gift.

Alastair Greenvale stepped forward, letting a loud splash sound reverberate through the hall as he stepped into the large pool of blood standing between him and the king.

His previous extreme confidence had diminished, seeing Kaede’s display. His expression was wry. But he wasn’t an old and experienced duke for nothing. He shook his head and somehow managed to force confidence back into his heart.

“I, too,” Alastair began, “wish to honor His Majesty… with the eradication of vermin within my lands.”

The declaration landed with a thud in the minds of the gathered nobles.

Several brows rose. A few lips twitched in disbelief. The thought was plain in their eyes: ’Greenvale’s lands, free of crime? Since when?’

It was well known by now that the Consortium was prospering.

Alastair clapped his hands once.

Kaede’s earlier display had been a blade slicing open the air itself to create a dimensional tear. His was… grounded.

From beyond the grand doors came three knocks.

The heavy panels swung open.

A column of Greenvale soldiers marched in, their armor polished to a mirror sheen, each breastplate adorned with the deep green and silver of their house. They guided behind them a long, shuffling chain of prisoners.

<Mother…> Jasmine whispered.

There, among the bound figures, was a woman hunched from years of captivity. Her once-proud frame was draped in rags, her hair a tangled mass of grey. Dirt and neglect clung to her skin, the weight of decades written in every line of her face.

Alastair’s gaze swept the hall. “These are the architects of rot. Men and women whose hands have strangled trade, bled cities, and sharpened blades for enemies beyond our borders. They have hidden in the shadows for eternity, believing themselves untouchable. My men and I made certain they were wrong.”

“It took months of intelligence work, infiltration, and careful timing. We struck where they slept, where they feasted, where they whispered their poisonous deals. We tore them from the very roots of their power and dragged them into the light of justice.”

A proud expression adorned his face as the soldiers stepped aside, revealing the captives in full. “These are not vagrants or common thieves. These are high-value criminals, the kind who believe that gold, influence, and fear are shields against the law. But nothing shields them from His Majesty’s will.”

He turned to Alexios, bowing low, every word polished for maximum effect. “I present them to my king, that their fate may be decided here, before the court, and that all may know Greenvale’s loyalty is not in word alone, but in deed, and in victory.”

<What is this dumbass yapping about?> Feng couldn’t believe what she was hearing. There was so much wrong with what the duke just said.

<No wonder his children turned out to be such awesome existences…> Quinlan’s sarcasm was palpable while he gently stroked the fur of the black cat who returned to his lap, where she slumbered peacefully once again. It seemed Yoruha truly was only here just to lay her eyes on the king one final time, as she said before. The ancient fox didn’t harbor ulterior motives.

<Hey! Watch your mouth, Quinlan Elysiar!> Lucille gasped, feeling wronged to the very core.

<… Right. I still struggle to accept that you came into existence from such a loser’s pair of balls.>

<Hehe! I took after my mother, of course.>

<Now that I think about it, you’re not alone. So many utterly awesome women were created by faulty men. You, of course. Then there’s Jasmine. We’ll somehow take this poor, hunched-over woman away from here so she can have a lengthy conversation with that man she was unfortunate enough to call husband.>

He looked toward Iris, and even before he could say anything, he was already kicked in the shin under the table.