Primordial Villain with a Slave Harem

Chapter 1438  Lesson From the Primordial Samurai

Hanae stood relaxed for the time being with her feet set and hands resting near the hilt, watching Ayame and Black Fang settle into position. Her gaze carried approval rather than concern, waiting for them to make their moves.

Ayame moved first.

She closed the distance fast, using her Skysplitter class to the maximum as she cut upward in a clean diagonal meant to test timing. Black Fang did not mirror her. She disappeared sideways instead, with her body folding into motion as her curved blade aimed for Hanaeʼs flank.

Hanae stepped between both attacks.

Steel met air.

She turned Ayameʼs strike aside with a small rotation of her wrist and slid past Black Fangʼs blade with a half step that placed her just outside killing range. Her sword never fully left its sheath. The movement alone forced both women to adjust.

They pressed harder.

Ayame layered her attacks, forcing Hanae to move backward for the first time. Her cuts flowed into each other without pause, vertical into horizontal, forcing space. Black Fang used that space immediately, slipping in behind Hanaeʼs shoulder, blade angled for the neck.

Hanae drew.

The sound was soft. Almost polite.

She pivoted and struck once.

Black Fang twisted away at the last moment, her robe tearing where the edge passed. She landed light, already moving again. Her eyes were sharp, and her expression focused. She did not slow, for this was not the first rodeo of this professional murderer.

Sheʼd been at this job for four centuries now, started before she learned how to even speak properly. Her reflexes were honed to the utmost, and she was a great tactician as well when it came to personal combat, evidencing how she used Ayameʼs attacks to make strikes of her own.

Despite being much stronger than the Skysplitter, Black Fang had no ego that demanded she take center stage. She was more than happy to let Ayame play the main character while she remained out of focus.

She knew that the primordial samurai held an immense upper hand even in a two-versus-one fight; thus, using a distraction - her half-sister - to land a critical blow was her best bet.

Hanae shifted, straight into Ayame.

Her pressure snapped forward, blade finally freed of its scabbard as she drove Ayame back step by step. The cuts came tight and close, never wide, never greedy. Ayame met them head-on, katana flashing in fast deflections, wrists burning as each impact carried weight that should not have been there based on her past experiences.

Hanae did not slow.

She crowded Ayameʼs guard, shoulder nearly brushing chest, blade striking from angles that forced Ayame to give ground. One misstep. Another. Ayame gritted her teeth and held on to the best of her ability.

Behind Hanae, space folded.

Black Fang struck.

Her blade came in low and silent, aimed for the spine. Hanae did not turn.

Steel rang behind her back.

Hanae caught the strike with the flat of her blade without looking. At the same time, her heel drove forward.

The kick landed clean into Ayameʼs stomach.

Air left Ayame in a sharp burst as her body lifted and flew, tumbling across the primordial village before sliding to a stop a long distance away. Her katana clattered and stuck point-first into the ground beside her.

Hanae turned.

The warmth was gone from her face.

Black Fangʼs instincts howled at her. This woman was danger itself, its personification. Her stance widened on its own as Hanaeʼs eyes settled on her and nowhere else.

”A big sister,” Hanae muttered, ”who would trade her little sisterʼs life for an opening.”

Black Fang stepped back once and set her feet. ”I didnʼt come here for lectures in morality.”

Hanaeʼs mouth curved.

Not kindly.

”Good. Thatʼs the mindset one needs to survive your way of life for as long as you have, Miss Venomborne.”

Hanaeʼs cruel smile deepened as she decreed, ”Great sacrifice is required when faced with an insurmountable enemy.”

Black Fangʼs jaw tightened. She hated how Hanae spoke as if there was simply no chance of victory in this battle.

She lifted her blade, and venom traced patterns along its edge, dark and alive. ”Enough talking. Letʼs kill each other.”

A sharp grin emerged on Black Fangʼs delicate features. She was not alone.

The two women stared each other down with extreme cruelty showing in their gazes, making it clear that, despite her laid-back attitude, Hanae used to be a fierce warrior.

She giggled, light and wrong, her expression darkening into pure sadism. ”As you wish.”

Black Fang moved first.

Venom surged through her limbs, speed snapping her forward in a blur meant to end the fight in one motion.

Hanae was already there.

There was no chant. No spell spoken. Just a step that crossed too much distance and a single cut that passed through Black Fangʼs neck as if nothing resisted it.

Her head left her shoulders cleanly, with blood trailing after it.

Hanae caught it midair with one hand and lifted it to her face.

She looked into Black Fangʼs widening eyes and smiled. ”Sweet dreams, child.”

The world reset. Or to be more accurate, her body regenerated almost instantly, as was the nature of the primordial dimension.

Black Fang gasped.

She dropped to one knee with her hand flying to her neck and fingers digging into skin that was whole again. Her breath came fast as the sensation caught up to her. The ground beneath her felt cold. Death.

True death.

Thatʼs what happened to her.

Her body had returned. Her strength had returned.

What had not returned was the certainty that had followed her for centuries.

Four hundred years of surviving that plane of cruel existence… It all ended in one motion.

No struggle. No contest. One step. One cut.

While Black Fang took a moment to gather herself, a fight was already underway.

Ayame rushed Hanae with her katana raised. The attack was direct. Hanae met it without surprise.

Steel clashed once. Then again. Ayame pressed hard, teeth bared, refusing to give space even as each exchange drove her backward.

Hanae turned her blade and knocked Ayameʼs katana aside. She stepped in close, so close Ayame had to tilt her head back to keep sight of her.

”You are weaker than her,” Hanae said, voice level. ”By a wide margin. So why are you the one charging me? Are you intent on playing the role of the suicidal hero?”

Ayame swung anyway.

Hanae caught the strike and pushed. Ayame stumbled. A foot hooked behind her ankle, and the world flipped.

Ayame hit the ground on her back with a grunt. Hanaeʼs katana stopped a fingerʼs width from her chest, aimed straight for the heart.

”Why do you fight with reckless abandon?” Hanae asked.

Ayame clenched her fists. ”Get it over with.”

Hanae tilted her head. ”Is it because you believe you must? Second in command of the Primordial Villain. The young girl who steps forward when the mighty leader cannot. Those are tough boots to fill, child… And you know that better than anyone else. Now that Quinlan fights his own battle, you believe it falls to you to stand taller than you can reach.”

The blade did not waver.

”It is admirable, and foolish.”

Ayameʼs breathing was rough. Her gaze stayed fixed on the steel above her. She did not look away.

”Honor and creed,” Hanae said. ”Those words shaped my youth as well. They are useful guides. But tell me this. Is it worth discarding your life for them?”

Ayame swallowed. ”Is this something the primordial samurai should be saying…?” She remembered her Fujimori upbringing, of the many values hammered into her to become the next clan leader. Her demigod ancestor was contradicting them right now.

Hanaeʼs gaze didnʼt soften. ”I am who I am. I think what I think. Thereʼs a time and place for honorable deaths, but it should come when all other avenues have been eliminated… Not you trying to outshine a much stronger ally and folding under a burden you simply had no business carrying on your back.”

Her grip loosened around the hilt of her katana. Memories pressed in, voices from another time, lessons carved into her before she had known better ways existed.

The pressure lifted.

Hanae withdrew her blade and rose in one smooth motion. She sheathed it and straightened, the sharpness draining from her presence as if it had never been there.

Then she clapped her hands together, bright and delighted. ”Oh, you two are wonderful! Truly promising students. I cannot wait to see what you become.”

Ayame pushed herself up slowly and shot her a narrow look. ”Great…” she muttered. ”The happy granny is back. Guess the demoness from a moment ago went for a walk.”

”No, the demoness is busy draining your loverʼs life essence,” Black Fang let out a low breath and stood.