Primordial Villain With A Slave Harem

Ayame sprang to her feet, sword raised in a tight grip. The clicking of high heels echoed once more through the golden void, growing louder, closer.

Then she appeared again.

The mute woman.

She moved with unshaken grace, her golden-embroidered yukata flowing like liquid silk, her face a mask of serene, unreadable beauty. There was no hostility in her expression. No amusement. No cruelty.

Just silence.

Ayame gritted her teeth, planting her stance firmly. Although she didn't quite understand what was going on, she refused to be caught off guard again.

The woman's hand drifted to the hilt of her katana.

Not this time.

Ayame lunged forward, her blade flashing in a precise, lightning-fast arc.

But it was all for naught.

Her sword whiffed through empty air, as if cutting at a ghost.

The woman was already gone.

Ayame's instincts screamed at her. She twisted, spun, slashed—but the woman was nowhere to be seen.

Then, from behind…

She felt a sharp tug at her collar.

Before Ayame could even process what was happening, a powerful force yanked her backward, throwing her hard onto the ground.

She coughed, gasping for air, only to feel the cold press of steel against her throat.

The woman stood above her, her katana's edge gently resting just beneath Ayame's chin.

Ayame's fingers twitched toward her weapon.

A flicker of movement.

Steel flashed, accompanied by the crackling of electricity.

Her head flew off her shoulders.

She gasped awake, body jerking upright… whole again.

The high heels clicked once more.

The woman had already returned, walking toward her with that same, unreadable expression.

Ayame gritted her teeth.

She wouldn't lose again.

She refused.

This time, she wouldn't wait. The best defense is a good offense.

'If I can't react to my enemy's movements, I must be on the attack!'

Ayame launched herself forward, her blade lashing out with great speed. A perfectly executed strike, meant to kill.

It never even touched her opponent.

The woman was gone, leaving an electric trail behind her wake.

Ayame's mind barely had time to register her own failure before an unseen force slammed into her ribs.

Her world spun.

She crashed onto her side but forced herself up, pivoting into another strike.

Her katana shattered.

The woman stood just behind her, her blade's polished edge now painted with the faintest hint of red.

Ayame couldn't even feel where she had been cut.

Her knees buckled.

Her body collapsed.

Her vision blurred, then faded to black.

She awoke again, breathing ragged.

Her sword was whole again.

Her body was whole again.

The void remained unchanged.

And then—

*Click. Click. Click.*

The high heels echoed, slow, deliberate.

Ayame's fingers clenched into fists.

…

Iris awoke to fire and death.

The air was thick with rot and decay; the scent of charred flesh and smoldering metal assaulted her nostrils. The battlefield stretched endlessly before her. Even calling it a battlefield was generous. In reality, it seemed more like a ruined graveyard full of shattered weapons and desecrated corpses.

And then…

A sound.

A horrible, wet gurgling.

Iris turned just in time to see the monstrosity.

A grotesque thing of clawed limbs and stretched, peeling flesh dragged itself forward. Mangled faces were fused into its body, their mouths moving soundlessly, eyes flicking wildly in all directions.

And then they all—every single eye—locked onto her.

It screeched.

The noise ripped through the battlefield like a shockwave.

Iris moved.

Her sword came free of its scabbard, making a shining arc in the darkness. She lunged for the monster and struck for its chest.

The blade hit home, slicing deep into the thing's pale, sinewy flesh.

It barely reacted.

Instead, it whipped a claw toward her head.

Iris barely managed to dodge, so much so that the razor-sharp talons tore strands of hair free from her scalp. She countered with a fierce upward slash, aiming for its exposed gut.

Her blade sank in.

The thing shrieked, but there was no pain in its voice.

Only anger.

Then it moved.

Faster than she expected.

A limb slammed into her chest, hurling her backward, crashing through the remains of a shattered siege weapon. Pain flared in her ribs, but she forced herself up while violently coughing blood.

Her strength wasn't enough.

Her attacks weren't enough.

She needed more.

She needed power.

Iris activated [Dangerous Game].

Agony exploded through her body.

Her veins burned as power surged through her, her muscles tightening, her vision sharpening to inhuman levels.

The monster twitched.

Its flesh twisted.

New spines erupted along its back, claws extended, its pupils shrank into slits.

It had evolved, growing stronger alongside her.

Iris barely had time to react before it was on her.

She tried to dodge, but was too slow.

A claw ripped through her abdomen.

Pain assaulted her mind: searing, raw, unbearable.

Blood gushed from the wound, her body lurching as the monster lifted her off the ground, impaled on its limb like a discarded doll.

Iris gasped, fingers clawing in resistance—

The monster squeezed.

Her spine snapped.

The world faded.

She awoke again.

Whole.

Back in the same war-torn battlefield.

The monster stood before her, unchanged.

Waiting.

Iris shook as she looked down at herself. Her hand went to her stomach. No wound.

She was alive.

She was back.

She gripped her blade.

This time, she wouldn't hold back.

"[Agony's Imbuement]!"

Her blood burst into flames, wrapping around her weapon in a fierce, raging aura.

She charged.

The monster charged.

Blade met claw in a flurry of metal and flesh.

She pushed harder, landing a dozen rapid slashes that carved deep into its hide. The monster screeched, stumbling…

Then it turned its claws on itself, harming its own body.

As a result, a third arm burst from its back.

Its skull split, opening into a hideous maw lined with rows of jagged fangs.

It lunged faster than ever before…

And devoured her whole.

Iris gasped awake.

Her hands trembled as they grasped her sword.

She was back.

Whole.

The monster stood before her once again.

Watching.

Waiting.

Evolving.

She tightened her grip.

This was impossible.

She was powerless.

And yet, her blade lifted once more.

"My greatest strength is my ability to endure suffering better than anyone else… No matter how long it takes, how many times I'm ripped to shreds, I'll prevail," she declared resolutely.

...