Primordial Villain With A Slave Harem

"Grim Reaper of the Skies! Thank you for your help today. Without you, a lot more of my good friends would've fallen."

BunBun had already rushed off to reunite with her friends, so I wasn't talking with her but with the birdkin lady who seemed to lead the aerial units of this resistance army. She declared her gratitude while bowing to me deeply.

It seemed I'd received my first beastkin-given title like Vex's 'Red-Eyed Demon'. I would be lying if I said I didn't like the sound of it.

'Grim Reaper of the Skies… Yep, it's epic.' I happily nodded to myself.

<I bet he's grinning like a silly kid behind his mask.> Seraphiel voiced her thoughts coyly.

<Of course he is… Stroking his giant ego is an easy way to earn his favor.> Ayame grumbled cutely.

<Giving him freebies is still the best approach in my opinion.> Lucille added while giggling amusedly.

<Indeed.> Aurora nodded sagely before expanding on her thoughts, <Just look at Black Fang. She keeps showering him with gifts like a rich sugar mommy and as a direct result of her actions, his opinion of her went from 'must avoid the crazy bitch at all costs' to 'when can I meet this nice lady?'>

<That's right!! Also, Blossom noticed that Master is weak to good-looking women too!! And it's a big bonus if they're not only strong but weird as well as a result of a heavy dose of mentally crippling child trauma.> Blossom decided to join in on the conversation…

Upon her statement, numerous heads snapped toward Iris to observe her, though she elected to not only remain silent but ignore their meaningful gazes as well, only letting a strong scoff of dissatisfaction convey her disapproval regarding their insinuation.

"Don't worry about it, it was my pleasure," I replied to the bowing birdkin at long last while ignoring the chatter of my girls. "May I know your name?"

"Sova the Windbreaker." I noticed that she added her favored title to her name. Earning a badass title must mean a lot to the proud beastkin.

"Glad to make your acquaintance, Sova. Kargrim invited us to stay overnight, could you provide us with a room that can properly house seven people? We would rather stay together."

I didn't trust the beastkin enough to feel good about separating, especially because I wanted to do my Primordial Rank-Up Mission overnight.

"It would be my pleasure." She nodded, and we were given a small tour of the resistance's underground base of operations.

The heavy price of war was easy to observe.

Beastkin of all shapes and sizes worked tirelessly to deal with the grim task before them—handling the great number of corpses left behind. Many dug trenches with calloused hands and rudimentary tools, forming mass graves for the dead lionkin warriors.

On the opposite side of this scene, respectful burial sites were being prepared for fallen allies. Piles of stones marked these places, adorned with flowers and personal trinkets from grieving family members.

Some beastkin knelt by the gravesites, whispering prayers to the Goddess, begging her to grant mercy and welcome their loved ones to the afterlife.

Tears ran freely down the faces of those left behind. A bearkin mother clung to a small charm as though it were her last connection to a lost child. A foxkin father stood rigidly in front of a freshly dug grave. His face might've been carved from stone but his watery eyes betrayed his sorrow. The sobs of a young rabbitkin boy echoed in my ears as an elder consoled him near the burial site. Based on what I understood, he lost his brother.

I wasn't here to play hero, hell, I could even be held accountable for some of these deaths as I fought like a true opportunist, using my supposed allies as disposable meatshields.

While I didn't regret my choices, seeing the grieving loved ones of those the dead left behind made my heart contort. Not because I was blaming myself for their deaths—without my help, more would've fallen, despite my despicable tactics—but simply because the overwhelming grief of these people saddened me.

Further down, the tunnels expanded into a makeshift hospital. The pungent stench of blood, bandages, and healing herbs filled the air. Healers, mostly amateurs, worked frantically to treat the wounded. I did find something quite curious, though; dozens of sheepkin had the Healer class. Perhaps their pure souls helped them receive the Goddess' blessing.

Cots lined the room in uneven rows, occupied by beastkin groaning in pain or lying still on blood-soaked linens.

A doe-eyed healer pressed her hands against a tigerkin's mangled leg, and I could see sweat beading down her face as she fought to mend the shredded flesh. Beside her, a young wolfkin growled in pain as a medic reset his broken arm.

Beyond the hospital, we passed training and leisure rooms filled with training dummies, sparring mats, and crude weight stations fashioned from heavy stones. None of these were occupied—the resistance's forces were far too busy dealing with the aftermath of the battle to have time for playing.

At last, Sova came to a stop before a large room carved directly into the earth. It was as humble as one could imagine, but we didn't have expectations of a luxurious suite, so no disappointment was felt.

"This room should suit your needs," Sova announced before turning toward me. "I'll ensure you aren't disturbed. Once again, thank you for your help and may you rest well, Grim Reaper of the Skies and his allies."

We offered our gratitude and Sova bowed her head one final time before stepping back into the corridor, leaving us alone in the room.

I felt like I could trust the beastkin not to spy on us. Unlike how it was for the members of the Consortium or other humans, seeing my face and unearthing my secrets weren't important to them.

Not only did they not care much, but their pride wouldn't allow them to betray their helpers as such. Now I just had to worry about Vex's schemes, but she would not return for hours.
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A sudden voice sounded in my mind. It was Amara Greenvale's. <L-Lord Quinlan, Father seems less angry by the second. His advisors are working hard on pacifying his anger, I feel hostilities might be avoided at this rate.>

My initial goal of brewing shit up so that I could grow stronger while enjoying the Consortium's protection was already pretty much fulfilled, I gained an incredible amount of XP in the beastman lands and there was more to do tomorrow.

However, I had no intention of pulling back. Hostilities wouldn't occur for a few more days at least, giving me enough time to farm some beastkin before returning to the kingdom and continuing my soul and XP gathering there.

Furthermore, if war never erupted between the nobles and criminals, my mission would lose all relevance. Even if I managed to secure the help of the beastkin tribes, it would be pointless without conflict, turning my achievements into a hollow gesture rather than a great feat.

To that end…

<Vivienne, are you listening?>

Greatly panicking welcomed my words. <Y-y-y-yes, Lord Quinlan!>

Not caring for her thoughts or mental well-being, I issued my orders.