Primordial Villain with a Slave Harem

“Haaah… So much time has passed…” Mearie sighed heavily, worry etched deep across her flawless, primordial features. Her gaze flicked—yet again—toward the towering monument in the distance. For the hundredth time in the past minute, her son remained absent.

“Quinnie must be struggling so badly! And here we sit, useless! That damned creature must’ve given him a too harsh trial!” Luminara seethed, her delicate elven features twisted in barely-contained rage. If the Soul Records were within arm’s reach, the elven mother, the one titled ‘Primordial Nurturer,’ would’ve already tried to strangle it by now.

… Or at least sent an incredible amount of disapproving gazes in its direction, like a mother who hated a decision her son’s homeroom teacher had made and was more than happy to articulate her thoughts.

The fact that Primordial Trials often lasted months, sometimes years if not decades or more, didn’t concern either of their motherly brains in the slightest.

They wanted their Quinlan RIGHT NOW, logic be damned.

Time dilation? Cosmic tempering? The necessary forging of his soul? Pfft. Irrelevant.

As far as their turbo-charged mommy instincts were concerned, their precious boy had been gone far too long already. His rightful place was in their arms, getting pampered, fussed over, scolded for worrying them, and stuffed full of their home-cooked meals, preferably all at once.

Rational thought had left both of their brains the moment the portal had closed behind him. The two Primordial mothers were now operating on 100% pure, undiluted maternal override mode.

And so, the two mothers fumed side by side, pacing and muttering dire curses under their breath.

That was when he spoke.

“Calm your hideous udders, ladies,” Karl drawled lazily from a nearby bench, legs crossed and a ridiculous feathered hat perched atop his pig-faced head. “The lad’ll come back soon enough. He had a very manly aura, y’know? I can smell that stuff in handsome men, and let me tell you, Quinlan didn’t strike me as some spineless bastard who’d leave his mothers sobbing. He’ll succeed, even if it’s the last damn thing he does.”

There was a moment of pure silence.

Then two pairs of blazing death glares locked onto him.

Karl blinked, glanced between them, and gave a sheepish little grin. “…Er, I meant that in the most respectful way possible, of course.”

But even as the mothers’ glares burned, their sharp edges dulled slightly as his words settled in.

“He had a very manly aura.”

“He’ll succeed.”

“Would never leave his mothers sobbing.”

The two mothers glanced at one another, and just like that, an entire conversation passed between them in a single wordless exchange.

‘Mmm. He’s an insufferable pig bastard…’

‘But he spoke true.’

‘Right… and while I don’t like that he calls Quinnie handsome, we both know how beautiful our son is… It’s only natural this disgusting creature would notice him.’

‘That’s right! As long as Karl stays away, I don’t mind. It’s only natural… He’s like all the other wenches who eye our handsome son!’

‘Right, right!’

‘Then we don’t need to beat him senseless… this time.’

‘Agreed.’

Both sighed at once with their gazes softening, the boiling storm of feminine fury momentarily quelled.

Karl, feeling the tension ease, exhaled in relief and quickly busied himself adjusting his eloquent hat. “We’re all friends here. Sentenced to the same miserable fate, we gotta support one another.”

Both mothers ignored him, turning their eyes once more toward the monument.

Their beloved son was still out there.

And they would wait as long as it took.

Just then, Karl’s snout twitched.

The pig-faced shapeshifter lifted his nose, sniffing the air with exaggerated flair. A slow, knowing smile crept across his face. He tilted his gaze toward the two mothers, eyes glimmering with impish delight.

“Ladies,” he said, voice dripping with mystery. “It seems your greatest wish has come true…”

Mearie and Luminara blinked, uncertain what the pig loser might be yapping about this time.

But then, only a heartbeat later, they felt it too: an almost imperceptible shift in the air, a powerful, familiar resonance humming across the space near the monument.

Their eyes widened as one.

“Quinnie!” they gasped in unison.

Even before Quinlan’s form had fully materialized in a swirl of primordial light, the two mothers were already dashing at full speed toward the source, skirts and hair flying behind them like banners of war.

And then, there he stood.

Tall. Broad. Strong. Handsome beyond belief. His features even more refined, his aura deeper, heavier, more magnetic than ever.

Quinlan barely had time to blink before he was hit by a double impact.

“QUINNIEEEEE!”

“MY BABYYYY!”

The two beautiful primordials collided into him, wrapping their soft, voluptuous bodies tightly against his frame. Their arms squeezed around his torso, their ample chests, those two pairs of incredibly heavy, divine mommy milkers, molding greedily against his hard, sculpted chest as though trying to fuse with him.

Both women wept openly now, not caring one bit about restraint. Their faces were buried in his chest as they clung to him with all the desperate affection they’d held back for far too long.

“How dare you worry us so much?!” Mearie sobbed, her voice thick with relief.

“What possible excuse could you give for this horrible, horrible crime against your mothers?!” Luminara demanded tearfully.

Quinlan didn’t say anything for a single moment, observing his overly animated pair of mothers… before a rich chuckle rumbled from his throat.

With a warm smile, he slid one powerful arm around each of their waists, pulling their trembling, needy forms even closer. Their plump, feminine curves pressed tighter against him, with their large, soft breasts squishing delightfully against his sides.

“Mothers…”

Hearing his deep voice, they stopped their tearful sobbing and perked their ears to hear what he had to say. But instead of providing them with a myriad of excuses or logical explanations one might expect, he only said two words.

“I’m home.”

At those simple, strong words that were spoken in that confident, manly tone of his and feeling the undeniable heat of his hard body against them, the two mothers gave high, feminine squeals of pure joy.

Their tears of worry turned to tears of happiness. The barrage of questions and horrible accusations ceased instantly.

Instead, they simply melted into his embrace, rubbing their cheeks against his chest with contented little hums, savoring his scent, his presence, his warmth as though they could never let him go again.

Karl, watching from a polite distance, simply chuckled and tipped his hat at the unique scene. “Ah… the love of mothers. Truly a force of nature.”

And so, Quinlan stood, holding both of his utterly doting, curvaceous mothers close. No trials, no battles, just this precious, perfect moment.

And this time, he intended to enjoy it fully.

That was, until…

*Sniff… sniff-sniff.*

Mearie’s nose twitched sharply. Her brows furrowed in concentration as she leaned in, examining parts of his robe, inhaling deeper.

“…Hmm.” She tilted her head as her delicate lips pursed in inner deliberation. Then her eyes widened, sparkling with realization.

“I smell… two women on you, Quinnie… One younger, probably with oriental features… and the other one… very fertile. Mmhmm. She has a bit of a fiery scent to her. She probably has a fire-related class.”

Luminara gasped, pulling back with wide, scandalized eyes. “You didn’t lie with one of the trial women, did you?! You know you can’t bring them back! What if you fall for them and get heartbroken?!”

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