Primordial Villain With A Slave Harem

"Can you heal the one who is busy bleeding out thanks to Ghosty cutting his throat? I have some questions…"

After saying her piece, Kitsara's three tails flicked excitedly behind her butt, telling me she was ready to show off, despite her earlier words calling me out on doing exactly that. This absolute hypocrite's form shimmered as two of her tails detached.

"[Veil of Deception]."

Her lithe, feminine body began to shift.

Her frame stretched outward in all directions. Slender arms thickened into bulging, fur-covered muscle. Her delicate hands warped into large, clawed fists. Even her soft face reshaped itself, elongating into a strong lionkin jaw, complete with sharp fangs.

But that wasn't the end of it.

"[Doppelgänger's Masquerade]."

As if shedding her own existence like a snake discarding its skin, the two tails detached from her back, and as soon as they landed on the ground, they expanded, growing taller and broader until two figures now stood beside her.

Both of them bore the same faces as the lionkin warriors that Iris and Ayame had slain just moments ago. If that wasn't enough, even their weapons and armor were replicated down to the finest detail. If we were to momentarily ignore the sight of their desecrated corpses, it was like the warriors had never died.

Then came the real kicker of the show.

Kitsara, now in the skin of the hulking lionkin Blossom targeted, turned toward me.

She clenched her fists and flexed her arms, making her already massive biceps swell to an absurd degree. Then, in a voice so deep and rumbling it could make mountains tremble, she addressed me.

"You still find your woman hot and adorable, right? You appreciate me for more than just my body, right?"

The sheer contrast of it all… The Kitsara I knew was small, cheeky, and oh-so-sexy. But now, a massive lionkin warrior was puffing up his chest at me while spouting the same type of lines I would expect from my foxkin ever-so-slightly unhinged lover… It made me stare blankly for a moment. Then I sighed, rubbing my temples.

"... No comment."

Before Kitsara could throw a hissy fit, a loud, energetic chuckle rumbled from nearby, diverting both of our attention.

Darius stepped forward as he rolled his shoulders. "Nice bulk you got there, little sis." He grinned while lifting one massive arm and flexing, his muscles bulging like tree trunks.

Forgetting she was supposed to be mad at me, Kitsara didn't hesitate for a single second to dismissively scoff at her brother. "Oho! You're so going down! Get ready to call me big sis from today onwards."

Having said her arrogant piece, she raised both arms, making her exaggerated lionkin form flex back, matching her brother's pose.

He laughed amusedly at his sister's antics while shaking his head. "Haha! It's nice to dream big, but you should set realistic expectations for yourself. Setting yourself up for failure is a recipe for depression."

And just like that, the most ridiculous flexing showdown in history began.

Biceps bulged. Veins popped. Pectorals twitched.

It was, objectively, the dumbest thing I've seen in a long while—perhaps ever—but neither of them seemed to be ready to throw in the towel. Even the replicated lionkin illusions on either side of Kitsara began posing alongside her, completing the utterly absurd display.

I exhaled slowly. "Haah… I'm beyond proud of my woman's capabilities… But I hate this so damn much."

Vex crossed her arms beside me, staring at the scene with a bemused smile. "I didn't know you were so open-minded, Devil. They say today's youth is more brazen, but I didn't dare think that it was so by this much."

"Please erase any such notions from your mind," I whimpered. My seventh woman was painting me in a rather bad light in front of my ?th woman.

"I can't tell who is winning…" Aurora muttered while watching the sibling pair show off with a deadpan expression.

"[Divine Arsenal]." The sudden sound of Seraphiel's spell casting interrupted the horrible showdown, thank the Goddess' sexy white lacey panties.

Seraphiel raised her hand, and light erupted from her palm. It was pure and blinding, yet without any heat or weight. It shimmered, shaping itself into a staff of radiant white energy. Its surface constantly shifted yet also maintained the sturdy form of a solid item.

Gone was her old trusty Lifebloom Arc, now resting on her back as a mere backup. This new spell of hers, which allowed the Dawnbringer to materialize a weapon of her choosing, made her old artifact a bit obsolete.

"Sorry, Ghosty," she said with an apologetic smile as she approached the dying lionkin Blossom had left gurgling on the ground.

A warm, golden glow spread from her staff as she channeled healing magic into him. Flesh stitched itself together. Blood ceased to flow. The gaping wound across his throat sealed itself with great speed, leaving behind only a thin, raw scar.

I had to blink to ascertain she was indeed capable of such rapid pace rejuvenation now. The Healer class would never be able to do it so quickly. I heard faint whispers from the dogkin elite saying she was near the capabilities of the Goddess's Arch Priests.

Arch Priest was the Epic-rarity, upgraded version of the Healer class. But it wasn't all sunshine and rainbows: in exchange for gaining more power derived from what I assumed was her divine energies, its holders gave up their freedom.

Unlike Healers, Arch Priests were obligated to follow the decrees of the Goddess, and if that wasn't binding enough, their powers only worked in the vicinity of Lilyanna's temples. The farther they ventured, the weaker they became, losing their powers fully within only a hundred or so steps.

Anyhow.

The moment the lionkin's airway was fully restored, he sucked in a frantic breath, ready to scream for help.

But before he could so much as let out a warning cry, Seraphiel drove the butt of her staff into his throat. His gasp became a strangled gurgle as he choked on the sudden and unwelcome item entering his body.

"Allow me," Shallan interjected, smoothly stepping forward as a subtle breeze began swirling around her wand. Her lips curled into an excited smirk as she sent me a single, grateful glance for her new class before lifting her wand.

"[Silent Tempest]."

The air convulsed around us, forming an invisible dome of refracted light and distorted sound. The outside world went silent. Hoho. My amazing Anemomancer upgraded to a truly useful class.

"Now he can scream for help all he wants," she purred.

Seraphiel nodded her thanks before pulling her staff back, letting him breathe.

However, before he could collect himself, a heavy weight pressed down on the lionkin's chest as Kitsara planted a foot on him. He stared up, locking his terror-stricken eyes onto a face that was his own. The exact same mane. The same hardened features. Even the same battle-worn armor.

Except this version of himself was grinning from ear to ear, having the time of his life.

"So…" Kitsara mused, tapping her clawed fingers against the hilt of the illusionary sword she had manifested. "Are we going to be doing this the easy way…"

Her weight pressed down ever so slightly, forcing a wheeze from his throat.

"…or the hard way?"