Primordial Villain with a Slave Harem

Chapter 1058: End of the Feast

The attendants moved instantly, dashing out the side doors. Within moments, they returned, dragging along a gaunt, sharp-eyed man in fine black robes. The crest of a Slave Merchant gleamed faintly on his collar. His hands were full of intricate silver tools and a scroll that shimmered with binding magic.

There was no one particular method to conduct the slavery spell; most of those who could cast it had a different ritual to do so. But one truth remained: casting the spell was not as simple as most other spells. It required a ritual. Just as Vex’s Hexwitch curse, which saw her bind herself to her beloved through a curse that affected her negatively and him positively, the slave spell was too intricate to be cast without a ritual.

This was the case when Blossom was enslaved as well. The Slave Merchant, who was forced by Quinlan and Ayame to bind Blossom to him instead of being an ownerless slave, as her ex-master was brutally murdered by them, also used a ritual back then.

The merchant didn’t waste words. He bowed stiffly before the king, then the royal family, followed by the dukes, and lastly broadly at the noble audience at large.

Then, the slaver stood before the woman. His hands moved with a practised, almost mechanical precision as he unlatched the iron chest.

Inside lay a black iron collar, simple yet heavy. He lifted it carefully, as though its weight was more than physical. Without ceremony, he locked it around her neck.

Then came the scroll. He unrolled it over the floor, letting people observe the vellum that was covered in sigils that pulsed with power.

A circle of pale light bloomed beneath her feet. The symbols on the scroll began to lift into the air, drifting toward her body, crawling up her skin in lines of faint silver.

The collar reacted. Runes along its rim flared to life, burning red for a heartbeat before cooling to a dull, steady glow. The woman’s eyes widened as the cruel magic took hold, pressing down on her soul, chaining her will to an unseen hand.

When the glow on the collar finally dimmed and soon disappeared entirely, the merchant spoke up. “You are forbidden from lying.”

That was all he said. Then the man turned toward the highest authority in the room. “Please ask your questions, Your Majesty. She cannot lie.”

King Alexios had distaste written in his eyes, which also affected the merchant, who suddenly tried to appear as small as possible. But, after only a second, the king spoke up.

“Were you married to the man called Aurelion before he became a criminal?”

Her head jerked as the spell compelled her. “Yes. We came from humble merchant families, and our parents arranged the marriage.”

“Did you aid him in his rise as a criminal?”

“No. I wasn’t allowed to. I was not trusted enough.”

“Did you ever betray the Crown?”

“No.”

“Do you still support him?”

“No. I wish the worst possible fate upon him. May the Goddess find it in herself to torture his soul for eternity.”

A moment of silence hung over the hall. The magic collar flickered, then faded away as the merchant rolled up his scroll and stepped back.

King Alexios raised his hand. “You are free.”

He knew he could’ve asked more questions, dug deeper into whether she truly never assisted him in any shape or form. Doing so much as helping him for a few minutes would make her a criminal. Hell, if one were to interpret the law as literally as possible, simply tying his shoelace before he left for his work with the syndicate could be enough. Cooking him a meal, giving him emotional support by simply being there… One could argue that these all helped Aurelion in his rise.

This was why the word ‘willingly’ has been mostly ignored by the judges of the Vraven Kingdom. It all depended on their interpretation of the law, and, frankly, their mood.

And who was in the mood to spare the family of a disgusting criminal? Just off with their heads.

But seeing the many expectant feminine gazes on him, carefully directed that way by the annoying noble called Black, the king felt it was best to move on. Truth be told, the woman, and even her husband, were so small-scale in his eyes that he just couldn’t give a damn. It was more worthwhile to make the ladies in the audience feel better.

The mother swayed as the iron collar fell away, hitting the marble floor with a dull clang that seemed far louder than it should have been. For a moment, she remained still, head bowed, her thin shoulders trembling. Her empty, glassy stare was fixed on the ground. It was the same hollow gaze she’d worn since the moment she was dragged into the hall.

Then, slowly, her lips parted. A ragged gasp tore from her throat as though she’d been holding her breath for years. Her eyes blinked rapidly, their dead stillness giving way to something raw and painfully human. A tear slipped down her cheek, followed by another, and another, until suddenly her face crumpled.

The dam broke. She sagged forward, clutching at her own chest as sobs shook her body. The sound was jagged and uneven, unpracticed, sounding like someone relearning how to cry. Her fingers dug into the fabric of her dirty dress as though to ground herself in the present, and her breath came in desperate, uneven bursts.

Jasmine began tearing up in sync. But, thankfully, she was not alone. Many ladies became emotional, letting her blend in. Many gazes full of wonderment were sent toward Quinlan, who all but saved this woman’s life.

Two attendants moved forward, kneeling beside the mother. She didn’t resist when they took her arms. In fact, she clung to them. They led her gently away. The echo of her sobbing lingered in the banquet hall long after the doors closed behind her.

The matter was concluded.

The festivities resumed almost immediately. Music swelling, goblets clinking, nobles laughing again as if the interruption had been nothing more than a short rain shower.

By the time the night wound down, Quinlan knew it was time to leave. He’d gotten all he could from this event. The results were… a mixed bag to say the least. Either way, the next phase of his life was waiting, one where his life as Devil was worth as many points as two Consortium heads put together.

And that meant the entire kingdom would soon be hunting him.