Primordial Villain With A Slave Harem - Chapter 843

Chapter 843: Trouble with Breaking Through [Bonus]
“Hmm… I feel that I’m ready for a breakthrough into the True Foundation stage, but for some reason, my body refuses to begin the process,” Quinlan muttered under his breath as he slowly opened his eyes from yet another unfruitful meditation.

Two weeks had passed since the heist in the Jiai family’s treasury. Two weeks of seclusion, of grim recovery from near-death wounds, and constant cultivation in this forested sanctuary, hidden beneath veils of mist and interwoven branches. His body had healed, but something was missing.

Across from him stood Feng.

She was different now.

The playful imp who once relied only on wits and mobility had matured into something else. Her presence no longer felt like a breeze passing by: it was like standing before the still surface of a deep lake, deceptively calm, but filled with latent power.

A soft glow outlined her silhouette, and her qi rose gently with every breath. Meridian Opening Stage. Six meridians. Not many could achieve that in one go, not even in the high clans. It was no nine-meridian storm like Quinlan’s awakening, but for a human girl who was not specially talented at cultivation, it was nothing short of astonishing.

“You did well,” he said, offering a smile as he studied her with pride.

Feng flushed slightly before collecting herself and tilting her chin upward with an exaggerated scoff. “Well, obviously.”

He chuckled. “Now that you can actually fight, maybe I won’t have to keep shielding you every ten seconds.”

“I helped you out back then!” she huffed in protest.

He waved a hand lazily, easily dismissing her claim, earning himself a strong pout of dissatisfaction in the process. Then Quinlan’s expression turned thoughtful.

“Do you think… maybe I’m stuck because we didn’t collect the lìng shards this time? You know, back when the old man told me to gather a hundred? Maybe that matters?”

Feng narrowed her eyes. “Excuse me? Did you just interrupt my quiet moment of meditation to tell me I’ve been worthless all this time and then follow it up by asking me a dumb cultivation question?”

Quinlan blinked. “Uh… yeah?”

“You still haven’t been taught your manners, Stupid Uncle!” she said firmly, crossing her arms. “But since you look so lost, this nation toppling jade beauty is willing to help you out. No. That’s not it.”

She flicked a lock of her long black hair back and turned toward the nearby spring. Mist curled around her bare ankles.

“The lìng shards were useful when you needed to form your Core. But now you have it. Qi density shouldn’t be the problem anymore. You’re overflowing with it. Frankly, you’re more charged than a bloated spirit battery.”

“Then what is the problem?” Quinlan asked, shoulders slumping a little.

Feng shrugged. “Beats me. My family didn’t tell me everything, probably because they never thought I’d make it this far. Or because they’re a bunch of condescending bastards. Probably both.”

Quinlan sighed, rubbing his forehead. “Great. So I’ve got the potential of a never-before-seen prodigy, but I’m bottlenecked by incomplete instructions.”

Feng turned back to him, eyes sharp with dissatisfaction. “Or maybe you’ve just been using your brain for everything but cultivation. Maybe if you focused more on your martial path and less on your imaginary harem of eight nonexistent beauties-”

“They’re not imaginary.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she waved him off. “Point is, you burned your foundation in that battle, Quinlan.”

Her voice softened, but her words were edged with truth.

“You forced yourself to keep fighting at all costs. You brute-forced transitions between elements that didn’t want to mesh yet. You overloaded your system with conflicting elemental signatures. Every attack—fire to water, earth to wind—was resisting, unstable. I could see the qi tearing into your muscles. You were coughing blood by the end.”

He remembered. The loss of breath control. The spikes of pain whenever he pushed for more. The hollow, grinding sensation when he tried to summon water after using fire. Elemental friction inside his meridians. The quiet chaos.

“I believe that you’ve been underutilizing the Avatar Style,” she finished. “From what I can gather, it’s probably meant for flow. For seamless transitions. It’s not just about having four elements—it’s about becoming them. Maybe instead of trying to bend them to your will… You could try to become their vessel.”

Before Quinlan could respond, a new voice drifted in.

“What acute observations you have, young lady. I’m thoroughly impressed.”

Both Quinlan and Feng immediately snapped to their feet with elemental qi condensing around them in an instant, preparing for combat.

Wind gathered at Quinlan’s heels. Water danced in Feng’s palms.

Their eyes locked onto the intruder hidden beyond the mist-draped clearing.

Then she moved. Right toward them.

A glimmer of emerald shimmered through the mist first.

Bright green eyes, sharp and unblinking, pierced the haze like twin daggers. Then came the flash of red: her fiery hair billowed with a life of its own.

Then she stepped forward fully, the mists parting at her presence like supplicants before a sovereign.

Serika Vael.

Even now, wreathed in danger and brimming with intent, she moved with a hardened warrior’s gait. Her crimson armor hugged her form, but she let the deep tan of her skin shine through as the armor didn’t exactly cover everything… Quinlan’s eyes dipped, drawn to the tight ridges of her chiseled abs.

He mentally slapped himself.

‘Now is not the time.’

Quinlan already knew it: there was no winning this. Not here. Not against her. Against Serika Vael, running was the only option. And even that was a very generous assessment of their odds.

Feng’s body had already lowered into a runner’s stance. She was thinking the exact same thing.

“Surround the perimeter,” Serika said, her voice cool, composed, and commanding. “Do not let anyone interfere.”

Scarlet-robed scouts emerged from the trees around the clearing like ghosts from the mist. Each one bore the Vael family insignia: a coiling serpent over a blazing sun. They spread out in practiced silence, forming a loose ring, but none drew weapons.

Quinlan’s body tensed further, ready to move.

Then Serika took a breath and, to both their disbelief, she stepped forward again, planted her boots on the damp earth…

…and bowed.

A perfect, ninety-degree bow. Her tone rang with clarity.

“I humbly apologize for what I’ve done to you two. I’m begging for your forgiveness regarding your horribly unjust treatment in my lands. I ask that you blame not the nation of Vulkaris but solely me, Serika Vael, the Fire Sovereign. My nation had nothing to do with your treatment. All blame lies solely on me.”