Primordial Villain With A Slave Harem

Seraphiel herself was the definition of the term \'ethereal beauty\'. All of my girls were beautiful, incredibly so, thus I won\'t call her prettier, but instead different. Her beauty was simply different. I can\'t describe it properly, which alludes to just how different she was from my women, all of whom are \'top tier\'.

Just a simple look was enough to tell that she was of a different species, and not because of her long ears, which were also present, naturally. She was like a real porcelain doll, which was further accentuated by her expressionless, delicate face.

I got the distinct impression that she didn\'t fit into this environment, as if it was plain wrong to house her in a bustling city, within human-made walls.

Her incredibly long, lush, golden hair cascaded all the way down to the back of her extremely tantalizing thighs, and she wore no shoes. However, I know from Ayame that elves prefer it that way. Supposedly it lets them connect with Mother Nature better. A strange perk of their race is that their feet never gets dirty or hurt (by the terrain) despite living their entire lives barefoot.

Seraphiel had large, blue eyes framed by delicate elven features- a high, graceful brow, sharp cheekbones, and pointed ears that only enhanced her elegance.

As for her feminine assets, well, let me just say that they were absolutely glorious.

(Picture)

<Quinlan…!!!> Jealous growling entered my mind. I was staring for too long, it seems.

"Ehem." I coughed into my palm to get my senses back. "Can we have a short discussion with her in private?"

"Please, go ahead, esteemed lord."

Just as so, Ayame and I were left alone with Seraphiel. She glanced at us emotionlessly at first, but the more she looked at us the more fear I could sense from her. Which was understandable, considering we were two masked individuals who pretended to be nobles. As far as she knew, she was about to become the plaything of two rich brats.

Maybe that\'s why they dressed her like a slut, thinking I just want a sex slave who can heal me when I hit my toe on the edge of the dinner table or something.

Before she could begin to hyperventilate from the terror that was starting grip her heart, I decided to take my mask off. These rooms were meant to be completely private, mandated by law, so a high-class firm like this should have no reason to take such a big risk just to spy on their buyer.

In case they dare put a spying artifact in here, I should still be fine since I changed my appearance drastically from the time I bought Ayame. I don\'t believe they would recognize me.

I gave her a gentle smile, which somehow managed to lessen the terror her heart was getting gripped by. "Please, sit."

Seraphiel gulped nervously, her original expressionless state of being erased completely. She spent months here, so I imagine she lulled herself into believing that she would not be sold as a form of desperate coping mechanism. For a virgin elven sex slave like her, staying here was definitely better than getting bought to be a noble\'s plaything.

Once she stepped foot outside this door, centuries and centuries of cruelty and humiliation awaited her.

She listened to my gesture obediently, then eyed Ayame, probably hoping she would also take her mask off. That wasn\'t going to happen, since the slavers would surely recognize her should they be spying on us.

"Seraphiel. I am a fighter who is looking for a healer to be my party member. I have no racial prejudice against elves or other races. Will you join us?" The reason why I wanted to hold this minor discussion here before purchase wasn\'t to get to know her or reveal everything about us, but to ascertain her personality.

I don\'t want someone who despises humanity just for the sake of it or someone who is so depressed that they just want to die.

She didn\'t speak up for a good thirty seconds, instead choosing to simply look into my eyes. I gotta admit, this long silence was pretty awkward. Maybe due to their long lifespans elves don\'t mind a bit of a lull state in the midst of their conversation, but to me, it was definitely strange. "I have no say in the matter." She finally parted her lips to reveal her honey-smooth voice.

Just like the rest of her appearance, it was gorgeous. I will have to ask her to sing for me while I\'m resting my head on her tantalizing thighs sometime in the future, should we decide to take her.

"I know that. I\'m asking if you would be fine with being part of a combat group that consists of other races. As the leader, it\'s my job to make sure my members are in harmony with each other."

Thankfully this time she only stared at me for five seconds before replying. "I have no hatred towards the human race."

"What about beast-kin?" Ayame spoke up this time.

"I have no hatred towards any race." Seraphiel clarified with a short answer that were quickly becoming her trademark. It was clear that she didn\'t wish to be here at all. She was about to be sold into eternal slavery, so I understood where her reluctance to converse was coming from. To alleviate that, I decided to speak up once again.

"Seraphiel, I know that you don\'t deserve it, but the reality is that you will be sold one way or another. The slave merchants aren\'t willing to suffer a loss with a young, Rare classed, high leveled elf who has your stunning physical appearance to boot. Honestly, you\'re lucky to have been housed here for this long without getting bought.

I want you to know that I have four extremely beautiful ladies in my harem, so I won\'t be taking advantage of your sex-slave state. I want you to be our healer, archer, forest guide, and herbalist. That\'s it."

Naturally, I will try to warm her heart up and make her mine, but this is not the time nor the place to do that. As to why I don\'t want to rape her, well, first of all, I might be a slave owner, but I\'m not a rapist. Second, I want to get to know such an astoundingly beautiful woman earnestly. Maybe I\'m just a romantic guy, but Seraphiel is definitely wife material.

I want her to love me, not feel hatred and disgust when I approach her.