Chapter 1061: The Immortal Trickster
Chapter 1059 of "Primordial Villain With A Slave Harem" opens introducing characters: That was when the confrontation was interrupted by a lazy, feminine yawn. "Haaah... What a... Find out more!
That was when the confrontation was interrupted by a lazy, feminine yawn. "Haaah... What a loud bunch. How is one supposed to get their beauty sleep like this?"The sound came from right above Quinlanâs head.
The ancient creature stirred.
A little midnight-furred cat stretched languidly on his crown. Her movements were thoroughly exaggerated, as though the chaos unfolding in the hall had nothing to do with her.
Her back arched high, dark fur rippling with purple streaks under the light, tail curling. She stretched each paw one by one, claws extending just long enough to scratch circles into the air, before settling into another yawn so wide it nearly split her tiny face.
Morganaâs eyes narrowed to slits. For the briefest second she dismissed the sight as a conjured familiar, until the aura hit her. Recognition made her breath hitch. There werenât many talking cats in Thalorind. Talking cats with this an aura depth of this level, even less so.
In fact, the number of such existences could be counted on one finger.
Morganaâs voice became sharp. "Yoruha... The Trickster Immortal. The Goddessâs Prank. The Illusionist of Nine Tails."
The foxkin woman had accumulated many nicknames through her millions of years spent roaming the Iskaris continent. Some titles of hers were outright badass, while others alluded to how incredibly annoying she was to deal with.
Lilith clicked her tongue. "Curses. I shouldâve brought the whole team. Whatâs she doing sleeping on top of this manâs head anyhow?"
The little cat ignored them both, still mid-stretch, tail flicking with slow, lazy rhythm. She finished with a luxurious roll onto her back, paws batting the air for a few seconds as a final morning excercise before she righted herself again.
Then, at long last, she finally bothered to answer.
"Mmn~ His presence is just so calming," Yoruha purred, voice drowsy but velvety. "Sleeping on him has been giving me the best quality rest Iâve had in, well... forever."
Her voice carried a strong hint of annoyance. "And a pair of lunatic sisters ruined it."
"Donât lump me in the same basket with my older sister. Iâm perfectly normal."
"You both popped out of the same hole."
"So? Please make some sense."
"What about the rumors from 300 years ago? Didnât something happen in that acidic slime dungeon-"
"No. Nothing happened. And I was a rookie back then."
"Enough chatting." Instead of outrage, Morganaâs lips curved into something worse; a smile. Her aura dimmed just enough to let her voice cut clear. "I knew he was unique... but to think even you would be drawn to him, fox."
But in the next moment, the pleasant curve of her lips dropped in an instant. Magic flared like a storm breaking through dam walls, her killing intent crashing back into the chamber. "This only makes me more interested."
Lilith exhaled through her nose, and raised her blade toward the cat. "Great. As if one crazed witch wasnât enough to deal with." She shook her head, knowing full well that once her sister became obsessed with something, there was no helping it. Especially when her obsession reached the levels it had when it came to the man called Black.
The spellblade knew that even if she were to retreat now, Morgana would still attack the whole group in her lonesome.
Though... âretreat...â she mulled over the word before ignoring it completely.
It was out of the question, and not out of mere loyalty. Heat began bleeding off her skin as her battle persona slipped to the surface. Pure hunger for adrenaline leaked into her voice. One didnât simply get to her level, lived through what she had, and got away without picking up a few quirky personality traits.
Lilithâs grin stretched feral as her aura flared. "Both my sister and that venomous bitch had the honor of fighting you before. Iâm the only one left out."
"Show me what you got, Yoruha."
"Perfectly normal, hmm?" the foxkin woman dryly shook her head.
"Mother! Stop this nonsense right now!" Felicity screamed from the top of her lungs. She was as lost as can be. âYoruha...â even she heard that name before. But the teenage princess couldnât care less right now.
Her mother was attacking her friends for no good reason. She hated this from the bottom of her heart.
Once again, she was ignored, save for a strong current of wind that pushed her aside. It came from Morganaâs staff, a preloaded spell.
"Grr..." Felicity half-groaned in pain and half-growled out of pure anger while coughing violently as she dragged herself up from the ground.
Her silk skirt was torn to the knee, the skin beneath scraped and bruised. Her chest heaved, her arms shook, but her resolve refused to break. She lifted her head with furious tears burning her eyes.
And then her anger froze.
Because what she saw was not something her young mind could believe.
The little cat, perched lazily atop Quinlanâs head mere moments ago, suddenly moved. In the instant both Morgana and Lilith lunged, one with magic like a collapsing storm, the other vanishing into a speed too fast for untrained eyes, the catâs body unraveled into blinding shadows and purple light.
A single paw stretched, and that small, furry limb warped into something impossibly elegant: an obsidian claw longer than her arm. Bones cracked like thunder, fur burst into motes of black and violet, and her form expanded until the entire chamber trembled under her presence.
Yoruha landed lightly and her body coiled protectively around Quinlan. She stood much taller than the man even on four legs.
Then her tailsâall nine of themâsnapped open. Each midnight-black tail shimmered with woven patterns of purple, glowing brighter and brighter until they looked like spears of starlight tearing through the skies.
"!" Morganaâs staff lit the world ablaze with sparkling magic, a roaring vortex of storm energies tearing at the air itself.
"!" Lilithâs blade cut the space between heartbeats, her figure a blur too fast to register. Together, their combined strike should have shredded everything before them.
But when their attacks landed, both women struck nothing.