Primordial Villain With A Slave Harem - Chapter 1153: Hypocrite
Chapter 1153: Hypocrite
The battlefield was chaos. Smoke, steel, and screams came together into a single chorus of death. Fujimori soldiers pressed forward in disciplined lines, but even their order was fraying under the sheer resistance of Quinlan’s companions and the assistance of Veil Walker Rynne.
Through the haze, his girls carved a path.
Serika’s solar energy-powered punches tore their enemies apart in groups. Seraphiel’s magical bow loosed shafts of light. Aurora’s enchantments layered over everyone, becoming glimmering barriers that absorbed spear thrusts, explosions, and stray arrows alike.
They were running themselves ragged with their magic getting stretched thin, but they forced their way toward Quinlan, knowing he was in danger.
The first to reach him was Vex. She dropped to her knees beside him, cradling the charred stump of his arm with trembling hands, lifting it from the ground. Her crimson eyes widened as they flared into a feral spark.
“Who dares do this to my man?” Her voice was a low, shaking growl, equal parts devotion and madness.
Quinlan smirked wryly, despite the agony. “The nuisance came knocking again. We’ll deal with her later.”
That was all it took. The group didn’t need further explanation. They understood.
“Mimi’s safe?” Feng and Serika asked at once.
“She’s asleep. In a coma of sorts… but otherwise I believe she’s fine.”
That was enough to ease their worries, at least somewhat.
Then Seraphiel approached with staff in hand, having used her Dawnbringer magic to transform the bow into her tool of healing. The elven bombshell pointed the staff, and her aura bathed Quinlan in light. She pressed her palm gently to his chest and whispered, “Your body and mind feel more… stable. I sense significantly smaller mind-tearing – if that’s the term for it – this time.”
Quinlan found it surprising. “… Really? That’s new.”
Her lips formed a small smile. “It’s as if Mimi took the brunt of it for you. What a protective little lady.”
“Of course she did…” Quinlan muttered. He was not one bit happy to have the dryad girl suffer in his stead, but he didn’t even understand what was really going on. He’d have to have a serious talk with Rosie about it; that mischievous daughter of his seemed to have some clues, at the very least.
Seraphiel raised her staff. The time for talk would be later.
The light converged. Bone knit. Sinew stitched. Veins rewove themselves in a harmony only proficient practitioners of healing magic could achieve in this hazardous environment.
Slowly, painstakingly, his severed arm was reattached.
When the glow faded, his hand flexed. It was scarred and bloodied, but functional.
That was all Quinlan cared about. With the Fujimori closing in, it was time to get back to work.
…
While Quinlan and his girls resumed the war, Chizuru staggered back with her lungs burning and sweat and blood streaking down her face.
Her robes clung to her body where venomous cuts still seeped. Even with her mastery, even with her centuries of combat, her body strained to keep pace with the monster in human skin.
Across from her, Black Fang was worse off.
Cuts lined her entire body, so much so that her attire was outright threatening to fall off. But Chizuru knew better than anyone that Black Fang was not the kind of woman who’d get flustered even if that happened, so the old woman wasn’t even hoping for it.
She examined the tortured soul before her even better. Blood matted her hair and dripped down her porcelain mask, staining it in dark streaks. Yet her posture never faltered, and her grip on the katana remained as firm as ever.
Kaede stood to Chizuru’s left, equally battered. Bruises painted her limbs, her once immaculate stance weighed down by fatigue. But her blade still shimmered with power. Her breath came hard, but her eyes… her eyes remained sharp and glacial, analyzing coldly.
The battlefield between them was littered with the corpses of serpents and shattered hounds, with many Fujimori corpses also unwillingly decorating the ground.
The air reeked of iron and venom.
Chizuru drew a breath, steadying herself despite the ache in her ribs. “Still… are not willing to stand down? We will let you go. No chains, no pursuit. End this… Hanako-”
The word was something she shouldn’t have uttered.
Black Fang’s head snapped toward her. The purple haze around her blade screamed alongside her eyes, signaling venomous anger.
“Your hypocrisy knows no bounds. I despise you,” she declared as bluntly as possible and lunged with a slash meant to carve Chizuru in half.
But Kaede was there. Her blade intercepted the furious plunge with a clang that shook the ground beneath their feet. The impact drove Kaede’s knees into the dirt, but she held.
Chizuru saw it in her; the exhaustion was real, evidenced by her muscles quivering under strain. Yet her eyes did not waver. They were cold, merciless, as if her body could collapse at any moment, but her spirit would never yield.
The two blades locked together, purple venom sparking against silver moonlight.
Black Fang’s eyes narrowed, measuring Kaede. Her gaze dragged over every bit of muscle, every falter in her grip, every tremble in her stance.
She didn’t understand what she was looking at.
“What are you, abomination?” Black Fang spat.
Chizuru’s breath hitched. “What a scary woman you are… Your intuition is terrifying.”
Her hands trembled as she summoned the last dregs of mana into her staff. “We end this now!”
But then…
“Sister?”
The battlefield froze.
From the haze of chaos emerged a figure clad in Fujimori battle armor. Ayame’s voice carried over the carnage, filled with innocent relief. Her face lit with joy, eyes shimmering like a girl who had finally found what she’d lost.
Kaede gasped. For the first time, her mask of ice melted. Her head whipped toward the voice, and soon, disbelief and raw emotion flooded her usually cold features.
“Ayame…”
“No, Kaede! Focus!” Chizuru’s scream tore across the field in panic.
But it was already over.
Black Fang moved with frightening speed. She only needed a single opportunity, and when presented with it, she took it without a moment’s hesitation.
Her katana exploded in a blur of purple venom. First came the arms, severed in twin arcs that sprayed the ground red. Then the legs, carved out from beneath her with merciless exactness. Kaede buckled instantly, helpless.
Without even letting the limbless woman hit the ground, Black Fang drove the blade forward. Steel punched through Kaede’s chest and burst through her back.
Kaede spat a mouthful of blood, which saw scarlet spill down her chin. Yet her eyes… they did not falter. They softened, looking uncharacteristically tender as they found Ayame through the haze. There was not a hint of fear toward death.
“Sister…” she whispered.
Ayame froze.
Her crystal blue eyes examined her, then shifted, warping into cruel red. White hair shimmered into being, and fox ears twitched energetically as Kitsara’s mocking smirk replaced the face Kaede just saw.
Her crimson gaze was dripping with venom that nearly matched Black Fang’s disgust when interacting with Chizuru. She looked at Kaede’s broken body and raised both middle fingers.
“What’s with those eyes, bitch? You don’t get to look so sentimentally at Ayame after betraying and selling her into slavery. Die already, you nasty cunt.”
