PRIMORDIAL VILLAIN WITH A SLAVE HAREM

It was time for me to make history, and to do so, I had to start with a spell of mine I hadn’t cast ever since I got it: [Overlord’s Sacrifice].

I reached behind my back and grabbed the arrow etched into me. With a pained hiss, I pulled it free, greatly damaging my body in the process. Then, I activated [Master’s Link].

<Vivienne, Amara, I hope you’ve been doing well,> I said to the Greenvale twins.

<L-L-L-Lord Quinlan?!> Amara cried, she sounded like she almost had a heart attack.

<We’ve been working diligently!> Vivienne quickly added. <But even with us wailing in Father’s bed every night, he is on the fence about going to war with the Consortium…>

<Well, I have some ammunition for you wonderful ladies. I suggest you sit down and grit your teeth.>

With that, I activated [Overlord’s Sacrifice]. It was a spell I gained after upgrading my Slave Master class to Primordial Subjugator. [Overlord’s Sacrifice] allowed me to transmit the damage I sustained to my designed sacrificial pawns, who had to be [Subjugated] people. It had a very long cooldown, seven days long, and only worked if the targets could sustain my injuries.

Thankfully, Amara and Vivienne both had enough levels under their belts to have a high enough Vitality stat to take my injuries over should I split it between the two—it would just hurt like a bitch and they would likely be bedridden for a bit and mayhaps go ever so slightly insane. Finding no issues with that whatsoever, I marked the lovely pair as my designated sacrificial pawns.

<AAAAAGGGHH!!!> Immense screaming welcomed my actions, giving me a bit of a headache, so I terminated the communication link between the three of us.

The pain vanished in an instant. My wounds closed, my flesh knitted back together, and the burning agony of the arrow embedded in my back was no more. A fresh breath of relief nearly escaped my lips…

Until the foxfire reminded me of its existence.

The unnatural flames still clung to me, slithering over my skin like sentient parasites. Even though my injuries were gone, the fire refused to be purged. It was a festering affliction, a sickness that transcended mere physical damage.

*Tssssss!*

I clenched my jaw as the searing heat gnawed at me once more. If I don’t do something to stop this, my healing will be for naught. I was getting injured all over again.

This was the true danger of Veyrin’s foxfire. It burrowed into you. It latched onto your essence. And worst of all, I still couldn’t manipulate it, nor could I quench it with elemental magic.

Veyrin had every advantage in this fight.

He was faster.

He was more experienced.

He had every tool he needed to keep me at range.

Even if I had a way to heal myself over and over again, it wouldn’t matter. Without a way to counter foxfire, I would simply lose.

That was unacceptable.

I exhaled and forced myself into a seated position, folding my legs beneath me. I couldn’t afford to waste any time.

If I couldn’t fight this enemy through sheer force…

Then I would learn.

I reached out, letting a wisp of foxfire dance in my palm. I studied it intently, watching the way it moved, the way it resisted, the way it clung to the very fabric of existence like a curse that refused to be undone.

And so, I sat there, deep in meditation, while my body burned.

Because if I wanted to win…

I had to understand the enemy’s power as if it were my own.

Foxfire didn’t just burn. It disrupted, coiling into my mana channels and biting at my ability to command the elements. It was more than fire. It was a curse, a magical predator that feasted upon energy itself.

I had tried to suppress it. That failed.

I had tried to overpower it. That failed.

I had tried to expel it. That, too, had failed.

If it was me before the Primordial Rank-Up Mission where I learned, I would’ve long since fallen into despair.

But as I was now, I simply observed.

I studied the way foxfire slithered along my arms, watched how it flickered unnaturally, refusing to behave like ordinary flames. There was no fuel source, no oxygen feeding its hunger. It burned in defiance of nature itself.

The realization struck me like a hammer.

It isn’t just an element. It’s alive.

Not in the way a true creature was, but in the way a parasite was. It didn’t just consume—it thrived on mana, latching onto my magical circuits and feeding off my energy to sustain itself.

A predator. A parasite. A leech.

Foxfire was feeding off me. It was taking from me.

Then, my words from before sounded in my mind.

‘There’s always a bigger fish in the pond.’

What if I took from it instead?

I was fighting foxfire on its terms, trying to resist it like any other spell. But what if I flipped the script? What if I became the greater parasite?

An excited smirk tugged at my lips.

Alright, little leech. Let’s see how you like being mooched off of.

Instead of trying to force foxfire away, I opened myself up to it, allowing it to coil even deeper into my magic. I felt its hunger, its relentless need to devour my mana.

That was when I understood: foxfire thrived because it took. Because it fed. Because it claimed dominion over the mana it latched onto.

But no matter how unique, how supernatural it was… in the end, it was still an element.

And the elements did not rule over me.

Foxfire wanted to feed? Fine. Let it. But this time, I wouldn’t be the prey.

I reached into it—not with brute force, not with resistance, but with understanding. If it was a parasite, then I would become a greater one. I let my authority as the Avatar of the Elements settle over it.

And then, I began to feed.

Like a siphon, I was draining its magical properties, leeching the very essence that made it more than mundane fire.

The foxfire stuttered.

For the first time, it weakened.

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