Primordial Villain with a Slave Harem

Chapter 1258: Terror in the Skies

The armor answered his words with an explosive scream.

A deafening, metallic roar tore through the air as if Synchra herself had a voice of her own, one born from fire and fury as she released a guttural howl aimed at the men and women who dared try hurting Quinlan.

The red veins running along the dark plating pulsed violently before bursting open, flooding the air with waves of molten light and rushing across the plating as if it wanted to eat him whole.

The air sizzled, and for an instant the entire chamber was painted in crimson light.

[Anima Ward] activated, the first skill imbued into it, which granted 25% damage reduction.

The core pulsed deep within the armor, converting its stored essence into defense.

Next, as the first projectile hit him, the [Heart of the Anima] showed its worth.

It granted him 50 base Vitality bonus stats. The keyword being ’base,’ which was an incredibly important detail. If the stats were not base but bonus instead, meaning it was added into the calculation later, then his Primordial villain class’s 25% boost to Vitality wouldn’t have made it stronger.

But because it was counted as base stats, meaning as if they were a part of his core physical prowess, it was increased further.

Vitality was incredibly important for one thing: Durability.

The higher the Vitality, the more naturally resistant one’s body was.

Thus, the two skills, [Anima Ward] and [Heart of the Anima], worked together to create an incredible natural defense around the armor’s wearer – as long as its core was charged.

But as if that wasn’t enough already, beyond the skills, there was a third reason why this armor was incredibly tanky; it’s material.

Adamantite, the rarest and most sought-after metal of the Iskaris Continent, was hard to work with but made for the best armor. It was relatively lightweight but by far the best at resisting damage.

Quinlan felt every impact, each arrow and javelin striking him like dull taps against his ribs, but the force dissipated instantly, absorbed by the Ward’s energy, his boosted durability, and the armor’s impeccable natural resistances.

Below, the soldiers stared upward in disbelief.

“What… what is that?” one whispered with his voice threatening to break.

“I don’t know…”

“I-I’ve never seen anything like that… Is this a humanoid monster…?”

The sight before them was outright otherworldly, something these seasoned men and women hadn’t heard about before, let alone had the misfortune of fighting.

The man in the sky burned red.

The darkness behind him only made it worse, creating an outline of a demon hovering over the palace with flames crawling over his armor in the form of molten hatred. The air vibrated with power; their arrows had hit, but the man hadn’t even recoiled.

Then his head tilted downward. His eyes, glowing blood-red through the dark, locked onto them. His grin spread slowly, illuminated by the mix of red armor flames and the blue glow of the saber in his hand.

It wasn’t human.

It wasn’t sane.

It was the kind of smile that stayed with you in nightmares.

One soldier dropped his bow. Another took a step back, tripped, and fell. Then panic spread quickly. Some ran. Some froze. A few vomited from the pressure alone.

But not everyone broke.

The true veterans, the ones who had survived many centuries of war, stood their ground. They’d seen horrors before. They knew running from a monster of this magnitude only got you stabbed in the back.

“This is kill or be killed! Don’t run if you want to live!” one captain screamed.

“Formation! Shields up!” a second captain roared. “Archers, reload! We fight!”

Steel clanged as they rallied, forming lines.

Above them, the monster’s voice rolled through the dome, calm and heavy.

“Your bravery is admirable, soldiers of Winterwood. You will make perfect soldiers for my army of the damned.”

A silence followed. Army of the damned… Those words were notorious in the entirety of the Vraven Kingdom now, but especially in the Greenvale Duchy.

It was the new nightmare mothers told their misbehaving children.

The soldiers realized.

“Th-that’s him! Devil! The Primordial Villain! The one who defeated the giant Fujimori army!”

Every face turned pale. Every hand shook.

Quinlan’s grin deepened, his pristine white teeth catching the red and blue light. “I don’t even have to introduce myself these days, huh? I suppose we can skip the formalities then.”

He raised his saber.

Blue fire roared to life along the blade’s edge.

“[March of the Damned]!”

The flames exploded outward, curling into ghostly figures that solidified on the ground.

One by one, five hundred blue-skinned Fujimori soldiers stepped forth from the blue inferno. They formed ranks in perfect silence, surrounding the palace guards on all sides.

“Where’s the backup?!” a captain screamed, with panic breaking through his commanding tone now.

The undead closed in. Their boots thudded in unison, shaking the ground with mechanical rhythm.

High above, Quinlan began to move, taking slow, heavy steps through the air. He made it seem as if the very air mortals breathed was there for him to walk on.

Those who were too far gone to listen to their captains watched the man with reserved faces, seeing how the darkness was lit up by the dark saber trailing lines of cold flame in its wake, perfectly contrasted by the armor’s angry, hissing red flames.

The battle below erupted, steel against steel, screams echoing within the dome.

Quinlan looked down at his gear, noting, “I’m way too flashy for this… I’m a failure at the art of stealth.”

His own red visor gleamed like a beacon in the dark. Even his eyes were giving away his location. No wonder he was shot at by the guards so quickly.

He sighed in mock defeat. “Perhaps I was just meant to shine brighter than anyone else.”

Truth be told, that was not at all the case. Quinlan merely didn’t bother dimming anything. He could, of course. One thought would snuff out his armor’s flames, another would force the saber to be subdued. A third would dim his eyes until they didn’t shine brightly.

But he didn’t do any such thing this time. It was not in the plans to remain hidden.

If they wanted a beacon to aim at, he’d gladly be their star.

…

The soldiers of Winterwood would soon realize that the true horror hadn’t begun yet.

The monster in the skies was beginning his descent.