Primordial Villain With A Slave Harem - Chapter 1552 Queen Morgana Makes Her Move

Chapter 1552  Queen Morgana Makes Her Move

Scar’s expression changed.

The mask hid her mouth, but the cold composure that had carried her through the entire fight softened, and the woman underneath showed through. Scar’s eyes glistened with the brightness of a woman who believed in what she was about to say with everything she had.

“Ever since this conflict started, he has been going from orphanage to orphanage. Tens of thousands of children, Lilith. He took them in.” Her voice cracked at the edges. “Children are useless to a war effort. They can’t fight. They can’t work. They won’t be useful for ten, even twenty years. Every single one of them is a burden on a man fighting a war against a stronger enemy, and he took them anyway.”

“Is that your evil villain?” Scar asked. Her voice was raw yet steady at the same time. “A man who burdens himself with orphans while everyone else treats him like the plague?”

She rose from her knee, and when she straightened to her full height with both daggers at her sides, she decreed, “They call him the worst parasite this world has ever seen but to me… He is the greatest blessing the mortal races have ever received.”

“He is called the Primordial Villain because he refuses to accept the way this world works, and he will burn every broken system to the ground and build something worth living in on the ashes. I will be beside him when he does it. I will command his armies, I will fight his wars, and I will do whatever he needs me to do, because I serve a cause that deserves it.”

Scar settled into her stance.

Lilith stared at her.

She knew the counter-argument. She’s bound. She’s a soul soldier. Of course she believes it. That’s what the spell does.

But the woman looking back at her was Scar. The same woman who had watched over the Scarlet Lilies for four hundred years, the same quiet intelligence that had kept them alive through engagements that should have killed them, and the conviction shining in her gaze was so deep and so genuine that Lilith’s prepared argument died in her mouth.

Lilith looked at the queen tearing across the sky and shook her head.

‘I can’t believe the words of a mind-controlled soldier. No matter how much they sound like her.’

She let out a long breath and shifted her grip on the spellblade, settling the weight of it back into the familiar groove between her fingers. The grief was still there, and it always would be. But grief had never stopped Lilith Ravenshade from doing what needed to be done, and it wouldn’t start now.

“I’m just a simple adventurer. A dumb fighter who only understands the way of the strong.” She raised her sword. “So show me the truth of your path.”

Behind the mask, the ruined mouth curved. Lilith couldn’t see it, but she knew it was there because she’d known that woman for four centuries and she knew what Scar’s eyes looked like when she smiled.

“I knew that already,” Scar replied quietly. Then beneath the mask she grinned. “My favorite orc in existence.”

The daggers came up.

“Hah?!”

They lunged.

…

Morgana hit the soul army like a natural disaster.

The “Protect the Master” regiment had time to raise their shields before seven elements tore through their front line. Wind sheared the first rank apart. Fire consumed the second. Lightning arced through the gaps in the shield wall and earthen spikes erupted from beneath the third rank’s feet, impaling soldiers who were still reacting to the fire.

Ice spread across the ground in a flash-freeze that locked the legs of every soldier in a twenty-meter radius, and before the mages in the back line could counter it, magma burst through the frozen earth and swallowed them in a molten tide that melted shields and armor and bone in equal measure. Water surged behind it, hardening the magma into a wall of cooling rock that split the formation in two.

The royal guards tried to keep up.

“Your Majesty, the flanks are exposed!”

“Your Majesty, please wait for us to establish-”

Morgana didn’t hear them. Or she heard them and didn’t care, which amounted to the same thing. Her eyes were locked on the figure standing behind the defensive perimeter, and the mana pouring off her body warped the air around her into a shimmering haze of elemental energy that made it hard to look at her directly.

Soul soldiers threw themselves into her path. Scar’s defensive regiment was well-coordinated and disciplined, tankers locking shields while mages wove barriers and archers peppered the sky with volleys aimed at the queen’s flight path.

Morgana flew through the volley. Arrows burned to ash in the elemental field surrounding her body before they got within arm’s reach. The barriers cracked under a concentrated beam of fire and lightning that punched through three layers of defensive magic in under a second. The tankers who stepped into the breach were swept aside by a gust of wind so dense it hit like a battering ram, scattering bodies and shields across the scorched field.

The “Protect the Master” regiment was built to hold a perimeter against organized assault, absorbing damage and trading bodies for time while the offensive regiment handled threats. A Level 74 Elemental Sovereign who had decided that the shortest distance between herself and the Primordial Villain was a straight line was not an organized assault.

“My Queen!”

The royal guards finally caught up, more than a dozen elite soldiers crashing into the gaps Morgana had torn through the soul army’s ranks. They fought well. They formed up, covered each other’s flanks, and carved a corridor through the reforming soldiers with the efficiency of warriors who had trained together for centuries.

Morgana’s eyes found him.

They were wide. Too wide. The pupils darted and cycled with mana saturation, each iris shifting through colors as different elements surged and receded in her channels. This was a woman on the edge of breaking, months of searching and frustration and obsession compressed into the singular focus of finally, finally having the man she’d been hunting standing in front of her.

“I found you,” she breathed, and the words trembled with an intensity that had nothing to do with exhaustion. “After all these months I finally found you. I am never letting you go again.”

Quinlan looked at her.

“Your daughter spoke to you.”

Morgana didn’t react, besides the maelstrom of destructive mana around her fingers intensifying.

“Felicity stood between two armies and begged you to stop. She called your name.” He tilted his head. “You didn’t even look at her.”

Nothing. The manic gaze didn’t waver. The mana kept building.

Quinlan’s voice went cold.

“You are the worst mother in existence, Morgana Ravenshade. Your daughter still cares for you after all that you have done and you can’t even be bothered to see her.”

Quinlan’s disgust for this creature was evident in every atom of his being as he straightened and declared, “You, Morgana Ravenshade, Queen of the Vraven Kingdom, are a disgrace to every woman who has ever held a child in her arms. I will thoroughly enjoy putting you in the ground.”

Morgana’s response was seven elements aimed at his chest.