Primordial Villain With A Slave Harem - Chapter 1462 Beta Simp

Chapter 1462  Beta Simp

Björn snorted. “When we meet again, you’ll show me how far you’ve come. Don’t disappoint me.”

“I won’t!” Kaelira replied at once, straightening with a bright beam.

“One moment,” Quinlan said, stepping forward before they could move on. “Björn, I’d like to ask you something.”

Quinlan explained the matter of Kaede’s blade, the katana whose existence refused to fit neatly into any framework he understood, a weapon that had elevated its wielder from someone a level 14 Ayame could defeat with ease into a force capable of matching a level 74 Black Fang head-on, a jump so vast it surpassed the word absurdity, made stranger still by the blade’s ability to cleave through space itself and carve open paths where none should exist.

Björn’s hands clenched at his sides.

“That sword,” he said slowly, “should not exist.”

Quinlan felt the shift immediately, straightening a fraction. “You know it?”

Björn let out a breath through his nose that sounded more like a growl. “Not the sword itself… but chances are, the one who made it was my first student. The most promising I ever had. My firstborn son.”

That gave Quinlan pause.

“He forged masterpieces one after another,” Björn continued, gaze fixed somewhere past the anvil, past the forge walls themselves. “His hands were steady. His sense for material was instinctive. He understood weight, balance, and intent before I ever had to explain it.” His mouth twisted. “But he was a weak man.”

“A weak man?” Quinlan echoed, one brow lifting despite himself.

Björn turned, eyes hard. “Weak where it mattered.”

He snorted sharply. “The firstborn daughter of Nyxara seduced him.”

There was a beat of silence.

“…Hah?”

“She got into his head, twisted his priorities. He stopped forging to refine his craft and started forging to impress his demonic lover. Chasing spectacle, chasing power without understanding its cost. He abandoned my teachings and tried to make artifacts that would please her fleeting interest, to remain a curiosity in her eyes.”

“So he was a hopeless simp-”

Quinlan found his sides elbowed as Kaelira once again narrowed her eyes at him. “…” Quinlan slowly exhaled. “And that katana…?”

“It’s likely a curse weapon of his making. A blade built on obsession, shortcuts, and rot dressed up as brilliance.”

Inside Quinlan’s head, a thought slipped free before he could stop it.

‘Did the first mortal dwarf prodigy really turn to the dark side because the demonic pussy was just that good? Really? I mean… I tasted the forbidden fruit and I gotta say that it’s amazing, but still…’

Nyxara howled with laughter inside his head.

“Oh, this is superb! I didn’t even know my daughter did that!”

Quinlan was having none of it. “How can you not know?”

“I am a demon,” Nyxara replied breezily. “Do not compare us to humans. When my daughter became strong enough to defend herself, she left on her own with the intent of building herself a reverse harem of strong and impressive men.” There was an unmistakable note of pride in her tone. “I suppose this pathetic little loser was one of her prey she wrapped around her fingers. Hehe. What a talented girl.”

Quinlan stared at nothing for a long second, expression growing increasingly flat.

Of course, that was the explanation.

Of course, a weapon capable of jumping someone from fodder to Black Fang-adjacent power involved forbidden craftsmanship, corrupted intent, and abyssal pussy so good it rewired a genius craftsman’s brain.

He looked back at Björn, who was still scowling at the memory, then mentally back at Nyxara, his tone dry enough to sand steel.

“Every time I think the universe can’t get more ridiculous, it proves me wrong.”

…

As Björn could offer no specifics to Kaede’s katana due to his having rejected his son’s craft, it was time to leave the smithy behind.

“I still can’t believe it,” Kaelira muttered after a moment while staring ahead. “A blade like that… made by Björn’s line.”

Quinlan hummed thoughtfully as they walked. “Maybe it didn’t come directly from his son. After all, he couldn’t tell for certain who made it, just that his son was the likely culprit. Could be one of the beta simp son’s demonic descendants.” He shrugged lightly. “Wouldn’t shock me if there are demonic smiths running around somewhere, hammering away at cursed monstrosities.”

Kaelira grimaced. “That somehow makes it worse.” She shook her head once, ears flicking. “All that talent, all that potential, and it ends like that. What a waste.”

“That it is,” Quinlan agreed.

He glanced sideways at her then with a faint smile creeping onto his lips. “You know… I noticed something.”

Her eyes slid toward him, suspicious. “What…?”

“You’re not racist toward Björn. I used to think you were the biggest dwarf racist in the world, but when faced with their forefather, you were nothing but respectful.”

She slowed half a step and shot him a narrow-eyed look. “You’re poking fun at me, aren’t you?”

“How could I possibly do that? I wouldn’t dare,” Quinlan replied, tone innocent to the point of being offensive.

Kaelira let out a long sigh as she decided to entertain the man who was very obviously just enjoying himself more than dying to know the answer. “I hate the insecurity of the dwarves in Thalorind. Their laws, their posturing, the way they puff themselves up and try to shove everyone else down. But that doesn’t mean I inherently hate dwarves.”

She paused, then continued anyway.

“Well. Not entirely.”

Quinlan’s smile deepened, wisely saying nothing.

“They’re brutish,” she went on, gesturing vaguely as if ticking points off in the air. “Their mannerisms are rough, their voices too loud, their breath smells, their women look even more hairy than their men, and whenever one of them visits an elven home, we have to worry whether the doors are wide enough, because despite being so short they’re the butt of jokes on the whole continent, they can be broad enough to get stuck.” She huffed. “And their fingers… So stubby they’re wider than an elf’s forearm-”

She stopped herself mid-ramble, blinked once, then grinned. “Okay. I might be a little racist inherently. Just the healthy dose, though. I’m an elf, after all.”

Quinlan’s grin deepened, loving the confession.

“But my extreme hatred didn’t come from that… It came from being suppressed by their insecure laws. Björn is different. He’s teaching me their craft, which is something no other dwarf ever would. Naturally, I treat him with respect.”

She shot Quinlan a nasty, sharp side-eye. “But you already knew that.”

“I like hearing you explain yourself,” Quinlan said easily, smiling at her. “You rarely speak much, it makes me happy to hear your voice.”

Kaelira puffed her cheeks out and looked away with a scoff. “Tch…”

She held it for a few steps, long enough to convince herself she was still annoyed, but the effort faded as the silence stretched and her stride relaxed, her ears twitching once as she realized she wasn’t actually upset at all. Having these inconsequential conversations, where two people were just enjoying themselves in each other’s company…

It was new to her.

Even when Quinlan poked fun at her, even when he pushed her into admitting things she would normally bury, it felt strangely pleasant. She caught herself wondering when she had started looking forward to it, and the thought lingered uncomfortably long.

‘Am I faulty?’

The question came uninvited, followed by a small, traitorous smile she tried to crush before it could fully form, though the corner of her mouth still twitched as she stared at the path ahead and pretended very hard that she did not enjoy walking like this beside him.

The road dipped, and the air changed.

A cluster of uneven buildings squatted ahead, chimneys jutting at odd angles and belching smoke in irregular bursts, some thin and pale, others dark and oily, as if each one belonged to a different failed idea. Pipes ran along the walls without any obvious plan, glass tubes visible through warped windows, and the whole structure looked like it had grown outward through sheer stubbornness rather than design.

Quinlan had just opened his mouth when the door slammed open.

“Quin!” Aurora shouted, bursting out with wild energy, her platinum hair loose and her apron stained with colors that suggested several experiments had gone very right and very wrong. “I made a giant discovery!”

“Oh?” Quinlan said.

She grabbed his arm, eyes shining. “Your sperm is even more wonderful than we thought! Your seed will change the world!”

“Huh?”