Primordial Villain With A Slave Harem - Chapter 697

Chapter 697: Slow but Steady
*Thud!*

A sudden thud sounded as someone enveloped me from behind.

At first, it was barely a touch, feeling more like the ghost of pressure against my back, as if the person wasn’t sure whether they should even be there. The hesitant weight of arms lingered, neither tightening nor withdrawing.

I didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

Iris.

She wasn’t one for closeness. She wasn’t one for touch. In fact, since suffering her trauma, she was against opening up to anyone, not willing to display any sign of weakness.

And yet…

I felt her fists clench against my shirt, gripping the fabric like it was the only thing keeping her standing. Her whole body was stiff, trembling. Not with fear, but with something deeper.

For a moment, she just stood there.

Silent.

Frozen.

Then, ever so slowly, she stepped closer and buried her face against my back. Her grip tightened around my chest, like she was afraid that if she let go, she’d lose something she could never get back.

“…Thank you.”

It was barely a whisper. So quiet, so fragile, that for a second, I thought I had imagined it.

But I hadn’t.

Iris—who had endured alone for decades, who had fought through agony without a word, who had seen dependence as weakness—was clinging to me. Not as a fighter, not as a warrior, but as a person. A woman who had finally, finally allowed herself to lean on someone else.

I didn’t speak. Instead, I simply reached for her hands, resting a palm on over them, letting her know I was there for her. That I wouldn’t leave.

And for the first time, I could tell she allowed herself to believe it wholeheartedly.

For a while, neither of us moved. Neither of us spoke. All observant ladies remained dead silent, knowing how important this moment was for Iris. Not even the aloof Yoruha made a sound—though perhaps that was because she’d entered slumber after a strong yawn.

Then, as if realizing what Iris was doing, she tensed. With a sharp inhale, her fingers twitched, letting me know she was about to pull away, but then she hesitated.

She didn’t want to let go.

But she also didn’t know how to stay.

I turned slightly, just enough to glance back at her. Her face was hidden, buried against me, but I could feel the conflict in the way she gripped me, torn between instinct and newfound trust.

So I made the choice for her.

Reaching back, I patted her head gently, affectionately.

She stiffened again… then, slowly, exhaled.

For a moment, she stayed still, as if allowing herself to settle into the warmth of the moment, basking in the quiet reassurance.

Then, my hand ruffled her hair.

It was a mistake. Her brain got overloaded.

Iris instantly jolted awake like a wild animal whose peaceful sleep had been disturbed by the arrival of an unknown presence in its territory.

She practically launched herself away from me as if I had just stabbed her instead of given her hair a gentle pat.

I turned around toward the woman with an amused expression, which only strengthened once I laid eyes on her gorgeous face that was partially obscured by her windswept black bangs, but even with their obstruction, a shade of crimson I had never seen her display before could be observed.

What a breathtaking sight this one was…

“I-I…” she stammered, then clenched her jaw shut so hard I thought she might break her teeth.

I raised an eyebrow. “Is there a problem, dearest Iris?”

She turned on her heel so fast it was a miracle she didn’t snap her own neck. “Wipe that smug grin off your face, bastard.” And just like that, she was gone, marching off with the stiffest, most robotic posture I had ever witnessed a human showcase.

“Don’t run off too far, the territory is surrounded by traps!” I shouted after her but only received a fierce showing of her middle finger in return.

How adorable… I couldn’t help but smile from ear to ear. This woman didn’t have the chance to develop her social skills as she practically grew up getting tortured by her unhinged bastard of a father in his basement, which was shown perfectly in her awkward attempt at hugging me. However, she was getting there. Slowly, taking baby steps, yes, but she was still making progress.

“What amazing progress,” Ayame purred as if reading my mind perfectly. Sarcasm was oozing from her delicate lips. “If it was the Iris from a few months prior, you likely would’ve gotten attacked instead of flipped off. Amazing, Quinnie. A perfect display of your one-of-a-kind Casanova capabilities. In a few years’ time, she’ll only ignore you instead of flipping you off.”

“Maybe you should publish a ‘how to’ book about charming ladies for the poor, struggling boys of Thalorind,” Seraphiel added fuel to the fire with a giant, coy grin.

My smile faltered just as my eyes narrowed into fiery slits, observing both ladies.

The pair straightened their spines and returned the stare with confident smirks. Our fierce staredown was interrupted by Kitsara’s sigh. She sagely shook her head, disappointed.

“This young lady doesn’t know what’s good for her… I’ll talk to her,” she said and bolted after Iris. However…

“Ack!” she yelped when Lucille placed a firm hand on her shoulder, not letting her do as she wished. “Unless you want to become mincemeat, I recommend you stay put…” my Bloodmonger said. “If you were to begin incessantly yapping to Iris about your glorious sexapades and nasty fetishes, she would beat you to a pulp at best.”

“Glorious sexapades and nasty fetishes?” Rosie repeated, putting a finger to her chin to signify how deep in thought she was.

Every single lady gasped as a collective, including even Kaelira and her team. Only Yoruha, Celeste, and the unconscious Sylvaris didn’t react. And, well, Kitsara too, who instead eyed Lucille with a smug, victorious grin.

Lucille’s face went through five different shades of horror in three mere seconds.

“No! Wait!” she started, but it was far too late.

Rosie tapped her chin, her expression a picture of pure, innocent curiosity. “Daddy and Mommies have glorious sexapades and nasty fetishes?”

“What have I done?!” Lucille cursed at her own existence. She’d just come back from whatever simulation she was partaking in to become a Bloodmonger—which I imagine wasn’t the most peaceful undertaking—so she wasn’t exactly in the most motherly mindset upon her return to our midst, momentarily slipping up as a result.

The entire group erupted into chaos.

Aurora immediately grabbed Rosie’s head, shaking her as if trying to rattle the thoughts out of her skull. “As your big sis, I order you to forget you ever heard that!”

Seraphiel pressed her hands together as if she were praying. “Rosie, my dear, we’ll revisit this topic in a century.”

Ayame actually unsheathed her sword. “Rosie… focus on training your blade. Until you defeat me in a duel, you’re forbidden from even thinking of this topic.”

“Training her blade…? She’s going to fight using plant-based magic, I bet.”

My words were completely ignored.

Kaelira covered her face with one hand, muttering something about how she felt way too young for motherhood. It seemed like a horribly daunting task. Her team nodded solemnly in agreement.

Even Blossom, who was always so sweet and naïve, was shaking Rosie’s shoulders in great distress. “No! Rosie must never think about those words! Not until she gains permission to have a boyfriend!”