Primordial Villain with a Slave Harem

Chapter 1063: Annoying Fox

But no matter how much he desired to join in, he knew perfectly well that this wasn’t a real fight. Yoruha wasn’t here to defeat the pair. She was just buying time, waiting for him to make his move while he got their attention.

He didn’t need to give instructions using [Master’s Link]. His girls understood what they had to do.

Blossom flickered into ghostly mist, slipping toward his side. Ayame’s hand was already on her blade, her body angled protectively so that she could defend others while running toward. Aurora’s staff hummed with layered enchantments, shields flaring over the group. Seraphiel’s bowstring was drawn, arrow ready to snap the moment anything came near.

They all knew. They had to leave now.

Morgana noticed the change instantly. Her head snapped toward Quinlan.

”You’re going nowhere!” she roared.

Her staff swung, and the spell she unleashed was aimed directly at Quinlan and his party. A spear of condensed water split the air, too fast to dodge.

But then...

*Snap.*

Reality convulsed. Magic flared around Morgana’s frame. It was not Quinlan’s. In a heartbeat, she was gone.

The world shifted around the woman. She wasn’t in the garden anymore. Instead, she was plummeting through open skies, far above the clouds. In the reflection of her staff’s glow, she saw it: the symbols coiling across her own skin. A prison of illusions and displacement.

Her eyes went wide.

”She cast such an intricate spell before I noticed her presence?!”

Realization sank in. The trap had been set before Yoruha even spoke, the fox weaving spells under the guise of a nap atop Quinlan’s head. She had been waiting for Morgana to lash out. And Morgana had done exactly as expected.

Her teeth clenched. Her veins surged with rage.

”YORUHA!!!”

The scream tore through the sky as her murderous aura erupted. Lightning split the heavens, fire bled from her frame in molten waves. The sheer fury of her turned the freefall into a blazing storm, a comet of pure destruction plummeting toward the earth.

She would not forgive this trickster. Not ever.

Back in the ruined garden, Yoruha yawned, violet eyes gleaming with amusement. ”Too predictable.”

Lilith paused, but instead of getting scared, her smile became even wider. She didn’t have to ask where her sister had gone. The cataclysm echoing across the skies was answer enough. Morgana was on her way back. And she was utterly furious.

The spellblade instead began walking toward Yoruha. ”I’m getting the hang of fighting you. I won’t fall for such a spell.”

Yoruha chuckled with obvious dismissal evident in her eyes. ”Ah, youth. Always so blindly ambitious. Adorable, really.”

Lilith was not easily rattled. She was a battle-maniac, yes, but one with a steady head on her shoulders. She knew what Yoruha was. A monster. An immortal trickster whose name was woven into the old war songs of her ancestors. To fight Yoruha was to fight a shadow given teeth.

Yoruha’s large form suddenly began dissolving into radiant wisps before reforming, becoming a tall, elegant woman with midnight hair and nine languid tails that swayed behind her. She raised a single hand into the skies as though calling upon the stars themselves.

The air warped.

The sky fractured.

Reality folded into a kaleidoscope of screaming colors and whispering shadows, the garden dissolving into an endless abyss where time itself seemed to shiver. 𝘙₳𐌽𝖔𐌱Ě𝐒

”[Forgotten Dreams].”

The world died around Lilith. One heartbeat, she was in the garden; the next, she was in a nightmare of blades, shadows, and phantoms. Yoruha’s voice echoed everywhere and nowhere. Thousands of illusions lunged at once. Claws came at her back, blades at her throat, whispers in her ears promising her failure. Every sense betrayed her. Every breath was wrong. Every blink was a trap.

Lilith’s chest rose and fell. Her heartbeat pounded. But it was not out of fear. All she felt was exhilaration. Yes. This was the monster of legend. The one kids grow up hearing tales about is the monster who even attacked the kings of old. The one that ended the lives of many of her ancestors. This was the battlefield her bloodline had warned her of. Her veins burned with joy.

”Good...” she hissed, eyes gleaming manically. ”Give me your ultimate ability. I’ll cut through it.”

Her blade blurred, faster than lightning, faster than thought. She cut not the illusions themselves, but the concept of being deceived, her strike ripping through the distorted reality with defiance absolute.

And then...

The garden returned. Silent. Calm.

No abyss. No claws. No shadows.

Only Morgana was standing there once more, rage still dripping from her aura. And another presence. Someone was leaning against a tree as though none of this had mattered.

Yoruha, in her humanoid form now, hands tucked lazily behind her head, lips curled into a condescending smirk.

Lilith froze. Her battle grin faltered. ’That wasn’t her ultimate technique?’ It hadn’t even been serious. No real attacks came for her life.

Just a cruel distraction, meant to buy time.

”That man,” Yoruha declared. ”Is mine. I suggest you find another hobby. Perhaps killing each other with Black Fang? Now that would be a very productive usage of your lives. I hope to never see either of you ever again, bye-bye~”

Lilith’s fury surged, her blade slicing clean through Yoruha’s throat, only for the fox’s body to scatter like smoke. An illusion.

Yoruha appeared again, hands at her neck, feigning a dramatic choke as blood spilled from her neck. Yet she had no trouble speaking at all. ”So feisty. Perhaps what you girls need is a firm man in your lives. I would know, I see him conquering one crazy chick after another and turning them into loving little wives.”

And with that, she lifted two fingers in a cheeky V-sign, tails swaying as her body shimmered into nothingness. ”Now, if you don’t mind, I have a tremendous amount of sleep to catch up on.”

And she was gone.

...

The portal opened hurriedly, spitting bodies out one after another.

Feng hit the ground first, followed by Seraphiel, and then two more figures came crashing down on top of them. The pile grew into a mess of tangled limbs, curses, and the distinct sound of weapons clattering against stone.

Quinlan was the last to pass through, finding himself on top of the pile. He opened his eyes and immediately froze.

Beneath him, pinned awkwardly to the human pancake, was a young girl. Her light purple hair framed her delicate features, and her wide violet eyes blinked up at him with startled innocence. Except her lips curved into a small, guilty smile.

”Ehehe...” The girl let out an awkward laugh, cheeks pink, but her tone was anything but apologetic.

”Oops?”

Felicity, the royal princess.

And she didn’t sound sorry at all.