Primordial Villain With A Slave Harem

"Yoruha!" Iris roared, hands white-knuckling her sword handle so hard the blade groaned. Every muscle in her body screamed to swing. To stab. To eviscerate.

But despite the extreme amount of hostility directed at her, Yoruha smiled wider. Then, as if just remembering Feng existed, she tilted her head and gestured lazily. "Come on, little heartbreak. Join us. Let’s discuss the tragic woes of unrequited love."

Feng blinked. Once. Twice. "H-How did you know?"

Yoruha’s smile widened but didn’t answer.

Iris, knowing perfectly well she couldn’t kill Yoruha just yet, stood. "I’m out."

"Oh, don’t be like that," Yoruha sang. "Stay. Help the child. Give her your... endless wisdom on how to repress feelings and brood under trees."

"Not interested."

Yoruha’s expression sharpened into something sly, resembling a true foxkin much better than when she’s yawning lazily. "I’ll let you help plan a prank on Ayame."

Iris paused mid-step. "... How cruel?"

"Lighthearted."

"...Not good enough."

"I don’t want to get thrown out of his home because I traumatized one of his wives."