Primordial Villain with a Slave Harem

Chapter 1242: News in Greenvale

The long table was crowded with maps, tallies, and stacks of parchment marked with red ink. The smell of burned wax and oil from the lanterns mixed with the iron tang of tension.

Duke Alastair Greenvale stood at the head of the war table. His teeth were gritted as he studied the markers showing troop movements across the front.

“The competition for the duchy is heating up, My Lord,” one of his generals said carefully. “The Fujimori moved their armies the swiftest; our reports suggest they’ve taken the lead in points.”

*Bam!* Alastair’s fist hit the table, shaking the figures on the map. His voice came out low, rough from anger. “I have to compete to reclaim my own ancestral land. What a joke! That damned Alexios thinks he can strip me of what has been mine for generations?!”

“Yes, that is exactly what he thinks,” came a new voice from the doorway.

The door swung inward, and Duchess Ophira Greenvale stepped in. Her tone carried no warmth. She crossed the room with the poise of someone used to sharing power, not begging for it.

And for a very good reason; after poisoning Lucille’s mother, she became the head wife, the only wife.

Now, only Alastair stood above her in their lands, but the duke was quite the hothead. He liked to lead their armies, letting Ophira do the ’boring stuff’ like managing the realm.

“Alexios has every reason to believe he can take power right out of your hands, my love. In our generation, more and more power has been concentrated in the royal family’s hands. Morgana getting engaged to the king created one frightening power couple, considering Ravenshade is now on the king’s side instead of trying to gain independence. Duke Duskmere, married to Alexios’ eldest daughter, Calienne, is on the royal family’s side as well.”

Ophira decreed before stopping beside the table.

The geographical setup of the kingdom was simple but had a great impact on the quality of the duchies. Ravenshade bordered the Alliance of Elvardia while Greenvale bordered the Beastman Confederation.

This made it so they were, by necessity, warring lands focused on producing strong armies that could both defend the human lands and also launch invasions into hostile territory.

In the center of the Vraven Kingdom was the Central Region, ruled by King Alexios Valorian himself.

Then came the acutely titled ’Sustaining Arm,’ the three duchies that bordered no hostile nation.

Silverwind, Duskmere, and Thornhollow.

Duskmere was allied to Ravenshade, supplying them with whatever they needed to become as strong a duchy as possible.

Thornhollow did the same for Greenvale, sending abundant resources, including grains, weapons, and even people, should the duchy lose great amounts of manpower.

Silverwind, ruled by the Fujimori clan, was also part of the Sustaining Arm, but they were not allied to either of the frontal duchies.

Instead, they were focused on domestic development, sporting by far the greatest army out of the three members of the Sustaining Arm.

Sometimes, when Ravenshade or Greenvale were in trouble, instead of sending resources, Silverwind would simply send its armies.

This allowed them to develop a competent and experienced force.

Ophira’s gaze swept across the charts and wooden pieces representing armies and factions. “I see the Fujimori are going after the Consortium with reckless abandon.”

Alastair grunted. “That nasty Kaede cunt and her decrepit elders have been drooling over my lands since before the unjust decree. If they think they can spill more Consortium blood in my own lands than me, they’re straight up delusional.”

The duchy’s contest was simple but brutal: whoever dealt the most damage to the Vesper Consortium would win the right to rule Greenvale.

Such was the decision of Alexios, made on the banquet celebrating his 1000th birthday.

Ophira rested one hand on the table. “I’m not surprised, the Fujimori have by far the best army out of the three ’non-combat’ duchies. They could use our realm, which borders the Beastman Confederation, to polish their strong army even further by not just defending during times of crisis but going on the offensive as well. However, what’s even more interesting is who they’ve partnered with. Lilith Ravenshade.”

Her husband snorted. “Yeah, we’ve been through this already. She’s an adventurer at heart, not a soldier. She prefers to stay out of human conflicts. Kaede must’ve offered something big to make her jump into politics.”

Ophira smiled. “I can only imagine.”

Alastair looked up from the map, observing his wife before asking, “So? Did you bring me anything useful?”

Instead of answering, Ophira reached across the table and flicked the carved figures representing Kaede and Lilith, knocking them over.

“What are you doing?” Alastair asked.

“Updating the board,” she said simply. “News just arrived. The Fujimori army suffered a major setback. Black Fang joined forces with the Consortium rookie called Devil, and together with the defenders of the stronghold manned by Veil Walker Rynne, they forced the slit eyed cunts into retreat. Kaede herself was injured heavily, and one of the Scarlet Lilies, Scar, was killed in action.”

The room went still.

Then, slowly, Alastair’s eyes began to gleam. “So, that woman and that rookie managed to cripple the Fujimori’s offensive?”

Ophira nodded once.

He threw his head back and laughed. “Hahaha! I knew it! Holding the position was the right choice all along. Let those fools exhaust themselves. Patience always wins the long game.”

He turned toward his senior advisor, a silver-haired man standing near the far corner. “You’ll be rewarded for your wisdom, old friend. Your counsel to wait saved us from throwing men into a pointless battle.”

The man bowed deeply, his voice steady. “It is my honor to serve, my lord. With the Fujimori advance halted, our time has come. I suggest we begin making preparations.”

Alastair nodded, but soon, his grin faded into a more thoughtful expression. He leaned over the map, eyes moving from the Fujimori troop markers to the figures of the Vesper Consortium.

Namely, the seven Obsidian Circle Members who are each worth 1,000 points in this cruel competition, and the sole man worth 2,000, Devil.

“Well?” he asked, gaze shifting to his wife. “How much did this Devil actually do? Was it all Black Fang? I saw him fight at the banquet; he’s some budget version of Queen Morgana, just with some melee hybrid build instead of pure mage.”

For the first time since she had entered the war room, Ophira grimaced.

Without a word, she reached into the sleeve of her embroidered coat and retrieved a folded sheet of parchment. Thick lines of charcoal stained the edges. She set it on the table with care.

It was a sketch, hastily drawn, slightly smudged, but astonishingly vivid.

On it, read;

The Devil

Even in rough strokes of ink and charcoal, his presence bled through the page. His sharp jawline, tousled dark hair falling over intense eyes, and the confident smirk at the corner of his lips were all captured with startling clarity. But more than his features, it was the atmosphere drawn around him.

The artist had shaded the space around his shoulders as if the air itself bowed under an unseen weight. A storm-like pressure. A silent dominance.

They had even tried to sketch the way the ground cracked at his feet, where his aura had pressed into the stone.

The picture felt alive.

Alastair’s brows knitted. “This… was drawn by a soldier?”

“By one of the surviving Fujimori officers,” Ophira said. Her voice quickly lost its earlier ease. “She sent it with a report. I can tell that her hands were still shaking when she held the quill.”

Alastair looked up, puzzled. “You’re telling me a single rookie caused this much fear?”

“No,” Ophira said quietly. “I’m telling you he is not a rookie in the first place.”