Primordial Villain with a Slave Harem

Chapter 1231: Night Shift Maids

“Mana-conductive mineral. Retains heat better than normal rock. You pour water over them to make steam, creating moist heat,” Quinlan explained.

That made Black Fang’s eyes flicker. “I heard about them. I even have some myself lying somewhere.”

Then her expression darkened. “I had,” she corrected.

With Kaede and Lilith ransacking her home, these were likely seized. She no longer owned any.

“… May I ask how you got your hands on them?” Ayame asked. “These are dwarven creations and only the Duchy of Ravenshade borders them, which is Covenant of Eternity territory.”

“I was never locked to Greenvale territory. The strongest members of the Vesper Consortium were often sent on missions abroad,” Black Fang explained with an abnormally large amount of words for her.

“I fail to remember the origin of the stones I used to possess, but I must’ve killed or robbed either a human noble, a Covenant member, or a dwarf for it.”

She then paused for a moment to think, then added lightly, “It could’ve also come from the treasury of a beastkin tribe.”

“…” The sheer implications of her answer made Ayame pause. The fact that she couldn’t decide if she wronged a human noble, an enemy syndicate member, a beastkin lord, or a dwarf meant that she basically attacked all factions on the Iskaris continent indiscriminately.

Truly, this woman’s life was full of violence.

The silence stretched for a long time, though Black Fang did not seem to mind. Her eyes remained focused on the sauna’s intricacies.

Then she turned her head, and her mesmerizing purple eyes gleamed at Quinlan.

He understood.

“Would you like to try it out?” Quinlan asked, offering a welcoming smile.

For a moment, Black Fang didn’t respond. The night air stirred, cool against her bare shoulders. Then – at last – she smiled. A small, tender smile that looked almost shy on her face.

“I’d love to,” she said.

The words were simple. But coming from her, they meant a lot.

“Great,” Quinlan simply said, more than happy to have her present. Truth be told, Black Fang was not the only one who was fascinated with someone here.

Quinlan, too, found Black Fang not only immensely beautiful but interesting as well. He wanted to learn more about her, to spend more time with her.

Ayame cleared her throat and spoke with a respectful tone.

“Lady Black Fang, considering this is a new innovation, I’m not sure if you’re fully aware of a detail that might be important. Please allow me to say something.”

That earned Black Fang’s attention. She, at long last, stopped studying the sauna and turned her head to the oriental warrior.

“A sauna is usually entered naked, or only with a towel wrapped around your body to cover the private parts. I wouldn’t want you to feel… uncomfortable.”

Quinlan hid a smirk the moment he caught the unspoken meaning behind her words.

He could almost hear the rest of that sentence in her tone: ’I don’t want you to get flustered and then cut someone in half because no one warned you beforehand.’

Black Fang didn’t seem offended. If anything, she appeared faintly amused. “I was told that the sauna is for sweating out the body’s impurities. Why would I be clothed if I’m to sweat?”

That caught Ayame off guard.

For a moment, she blinked, then realized that Black Fang was, in fact, fully aware that she would have to show a lot of skin.

She just didn’t seem to mind it.

Ayame’s shoulders eased, then she turned her attention to Quinlan. “We didn’t plan to actually enter the sauna tonight. We only wanted to show Lady Black Fang the place, so we didn’t have towels prepared.”

“No problem. But we shouldn’t wake the maids. They’ve worked enough for the day.”

That earned him an instant, genuine smile from Ayame. The thought of her man, someone of his wealth and power, caring about his servants’ rest wasn’t just unusual; it was almost alien.

Quinlan lifted a hand, summoning a ripple of black and silver energy.

Next came his Soul Reaper, from which he summoned Scar, Eve, and all other female Elite Souls.

Naturally, he would not have his male souls see his women naked.

Unlike his maids, the souls did not need rest. Instead, he thought they might even find some joy in doing mundane tasks like this, though he wasn’t sure if they preferred being inside the Soul Reaper’s soul storage or doing errand jobs for him.

However, when he told them what he wanted, none showed any signs of annoyance. Instead, they even seemed to be excited to get the items he asked for.

They all bowed in unison. “Master.”

Quinlan gestured casually. “Towels for five. And something refreshing to drink afterward. Use what’s available.”

Scar took charge immediately. “Yes, Master.” The rest followed.

The group dispersed like a small army on a mission.

Scar herself carried a neat stack of towels, folded with outright military precision, while the others began raiding the pantry and kitchen in a coordinated strike.

One retrieved herbs and citrus from the cooler; another returned dragging a table she’d probably taken from the dining hall; and another one came back balancing utensils, glass cups, and even a tray of ice cubes. Others brought various ingredients.

Ayame blinked, then smiled. “I didn’t know you had night shift maids on call.”

“They even got exotic blue skin,” Vex giggled. “Most nobles who care about showing off would be going red in the face right now.”

Within minutes, the souls had assembled a makeshift refreshment station beside the sauna.

One of the Fujimori souls, Nozomi, a graceful woman who was a fire mage, was directing the rest like an instructor in a kitchen.

It seemed the concoctions would be birthed using her recipe.

“No, no, no,” she scolded her companions before snatching the herbs from their hands. “You slice the rosemary thinner, or it overpowers the taste. Now, someone bring the honey. Just a spoon, not more.”

As the soul warrior maids were working their magic, something grabbed Quinlan’s attention.

A soft rustle broke the moment.

Fabric shifting.

Then the unmistakable sound of clothes falling to the floor followed.

Quinlan’s head turned toward Black Fang on command as if he were possessed. He simply didn’t have the option to resist.