Primordial Villain With A Slave Harem - Chapter 1248: Worried Girls
Chapter 1248: Worried Girls
Moonlight filtered through the tall windows of the harem room’s chambers, painting the room in soft silver. The night outside was still, with the only sound within being the crackle of the hearth fire and the quiet rhythm of his breathing.
He lay motionless on the wide bed. Around him, his girls knelt in silence. Their faces were full of concern.
Ayame sat at the head of the bed, letting Quinlan’s head rest on her naked lap. Her hand moved slowly through his hair, letting her fingers brush against his temple with a tenderness only those who truly love someone could replicate.
Every now and then, she paused, as if afraid even that light touch might disturb his rest.
Kaelira rested in her own room, tended to by her team, namely Liora, the second healer of the group. Both she and Quinlan had fainted after naming Synchra, as if the naming itself drained them of energy.
They didn’t know if that was the case for sure, though. Perhaps the pair were simply too ecstatic about their newest creation, with too much adrenaline coursing through their veins to notice it instantly.
Seraphiel’s hands glowed with a golden light as she continued to check Quinlan’s pulse, though she had already done so countless times.
The gorgeous elf sat next to his heart, and with her included, Quinlan had four of his lovers on either side of him, with Ayame occupying the spot above him.
No one spoke for a long while.
Finally, Lucille broke the silence. “He’s stable… right?” Her voice was barely more than a whisper. The only biological mother in the group, she looked extra concerned for the unwell man lying before her.
“You already asked that like fifty times,” Aurora muttered, though there wasn’t a hint of annoyance or mockery in her tone. She, too, like all the others, was greatly concerned.
Seraphiel, for once, didn’t make a cheeky remark. “Yes, he is stable. But his mana reserves are empty despite his incredibly potent mana regeneration. I think it’s safe to say that he regenerates mana faster than anyone on the continent, yet this time, he can’t do it for some reason… Whatever that armor took from him, it wasn’t just energy. It pulled from his essence.”
At the mention of ’armor,’ the girls turned to look toward Quinlan’s left ankle, where Synchra could be observed.
The living armor had, at some point, detached itself from the rest of Quinlan’s body and shrunk to occupy the smallest of areas in the form of an ankle brace of sorts.
It did this to give Quinlan’s lovers as much access to their man as possible, knowing she was to be blamed for his current state.
Its black metal gave off ember-like glows, and when Seraphiel spoke of essence drain, those embers flared with guilty heat.
To make it even worse for the armor, next to it floated Quinlan’s Soul Reaper. The weapon’s blue flames were crackling in silent accusation while it sliced in the armor’s direction, as if intending to cut it apart so it fully left his master’s body.
The two artifacts looked locked in some bizarre staring contest, with one being ashamed, the other judgmental.
“I get that Synchra is a bit conscious, but when did the Soul Reaper get so animated?” Jasmine couldn’t help but smile, despite the severity of the situation.
“I noticed signs of persona ever since Quin unlocked the [Eternal Damnation] skill and its flames came alive,” Ayame murmured while stroking Quinlan’s dark hair.
“Hmm… I’m no smith, but maybe with its master unconscious, more of itself came to the surface,” Lucille theorized.
“He must be worried for Master and came alive to help him recover!!” Blossom sobbed. Her teary eyes were overcome with worry.
Like the good girl she was, Blossom instantly accepted Quinlan’s designation of the items’ genders. She spoke of Synchra as a female and the Soul Reaper as a male.
“Do you think it’s a permanent loss of his life force? Then I won’t let him smith again, even if it means wasting my father’s legacy!” Serika decreed with a contorting expression. What she just said hurt the woman greatly, but she loved Quinlan far too much.
Before anyone could respond, Vex spoke up.
The Hexwitch had been unnaturally silent until now, sitting with her arms folded and eyes fixed on Quinlan’s face.
“No,” she said finally. “If it were a loss of permanent life force, he’d look different. I’ve seen ritual backlash before, including life-draining spells, pacts gone wrong, curse rebounds, and more. When someone’s essence burns away, their skin goes pale, their lips lose color, and their breath slows like an old man’s. Quin looks… healthy. His mana is just empty and does not recover. That’s all.”
“Isn’t that because he’s a primordial with infinite life force, though?” Aurora asked.
“I thought that might be the case as well,” Vex nodded before explaining, “Kaelira, while having the potential to live for 10,000 years due to being an elf as long as she reaches the higher levels, she still has a limited lifespan. Yet she shows the same signs as Quinlan does, which makes me think that her lifespan hasn’t been shrunk either, or at the very least, it happened on such a minor scale that it could not be observed, like a day or two having been lost. But, honestly, I think it’s something else, something deeper and more concerning than loss of lifespan.”
“… I think you’re suggesting it’s a soul business, would that be correct?” Seraphiel asked with contorted features. As a healer of the body, she hated how Quinlan seemed to get injured in a way she couldn’t heal.
“Yes,” the Hexwitch nodded again. “A part of their soul has been destabilized, consumed, borrowed, or something along those lines. At least, that is my guess.”
“So what do we do?” Jasmine asked nervously.
Vex’s expression turned sour. “That’s the part I don’t know. Healing magic won’t work, so our best bet is to trust him. He’ll recover with willpower and time. You all know he will never leave us alone, and when it comes to the willpower needed to return to his lovers, Quinlan is second to none.”
“Yes, you’re probably right… But…”
While her diagnosis lifted some spirits, it was by the smallest of amounts. None of his girls could help themselves; they were too worried.
Blossom let out a small, pitiful whimper with her ears folding down as she placed her hands on Quinlan’s arm. “Master… please hurry up. Blossom misses you already!”
Seraphiel’s expression softened. She reached over and stroked the dogkin’s head gently. “Come now, girls. Quin wouldn’t want us sitting here like this. He’d tell us to rest.”
Kitsara let out a breathy laugh. “Are you kidding? Nine gorgeous naked women kneeling around his bed, worried sick about him? He’d love it.” Despite her grin, her voice trembled, making it clear she was still greatly agitated by his state.
Lucille folded her arms. “I think Miss Elf just said that so she can pamper him alone once we all leave.”
“Hm?!” Seraphiel shot her an unimpressed look full of distaste for her words, but the pink flush at the tips of her pointed ears gave her away.
She huffed. “You’re wrong, Milf With Kinda Small Tits.”
