Primordial Villain With A Slave Harem - Chapter 859

Chapter 859: No Longer a Mere Trainee
The crystalline corridors of the palace shimmered with a soft, rippling light. Blue-tinted walls refracted sunlight into dancing waves, while the soft gurgle of flowing water echoed gently through the marble arches.

Four figures walked in tandem: Quinlan flanked by two of the most powerful women on the continent. Feng Jiai was also there.

*WHAM!*

A meaty slap landed squarely between Quinlan’s shoulder blades.

He staggered forward with a grunt, nearly kissing the floor.

“What in the!?”

Behind him, Serika cackled with unrestrained glee. She was very clearly excited.

“Are you sure you’re ready for what’s to come?” she smirked, throwing her arm around his neck and dragging him into a half-headlock, ignoring his protests. “I’m telling you, this time I’ll get to go all out. No more relying on just fists: my fire gets to join the dance.”

“I can’t wait,” Quinlan muttered, but instead of resisting, he only added jokingly, “If you’re planning to make me sweat, at least buy me dinner first.”

Serika blinked in surprise at his reply, then barked out a laugh loud enough to rattle the walls, tightening the headlock.

“You wish, brat!”

Nalai and Feng giggled behind them, walking with far more grace.

Serika soon released him of her hold and stretched her arms over her head, her muscles visibly flexing. “But jokes aside… you’re actually really close, you know?”

Quinlan glanced over with one brow raised.

“To the Spirit Tempering stage,” she clarified. “You’ve already nailed the hard stuff—battle intent, pressure control, how to read an opponent’s flow. I don’t quite know all about your past, but it’s clear to me that you’ve been through more life-and-death fights than most of my generals. That part’s solid.”

Quinlan nodded slowly, thinking deeply.

“Your spiritual awareness is there too,” she continued. “You sense subtle things most people miss: danger, lies, emotions. I’ve seen it. Your gut reactions are clean. Sharp. Although they’re not on the level of a prophet, you’re good. Those are all prerequisites for the final stage; that’s why I’m saying that you’re about halfway there already.”

Serika shot him a look. “But you wanna know what’s keeping you from the next stage?”

He shook his head.

“It’s not your power. It’s your alignment. You’ve got all the right pieces—just not in tune yet.”

Nalai, calm and elegant, laced her fingers behind her back. “Qi, Core, Instinct, and Emotion. All four must move as one. You must become still, but not stagnant. Flowing, but not chaotic.”

“Very poetic, sis.”

Nalai ignored her. “And that’s where we come in.”

Quinlan turned toward her.

“I’ve already contacted Rongtai, the Earth Sovereign,” she said with a soft smile. “He’s agreed to come here to train you in his own way.”

Serika’s brows rose. “You convinced him to leave Daluang?”

Nalai smirked with the barest hint of pride. “I can be persuasive.”

“Unfortunately…” she added more somberly, “Zephyra, the Wind Sovereign, was killed by the invader. We’ll need to find a substitute to train you in wind. But I’m already on the case, so you don’t need to worry.”

A quiet beat passed. Quinlan nodded once. “Understood, and thank you.”

He only got a gentle “Don’t even mention it,” response.

Quinlan then glanced between them. “So… once I do break through… what happens?”

Serika’s grin was brighter than firelight. “Your elemental powers’ll skyrocket, for one. I can’t wait to have a duel against a guy with perfect resonance in the Spirit Tempering stage. It’ll be legendary.”

Nalai’s voice sounded, grabbing Quinlan’s attention. “But the real gift is the Still Heart.”

He frowned. “What exactly is that?”

“A state where nothing shakes you. No fear, no rage, no hesitation. It’s clarity. Total, absolute inner balance.”

“You’ll still feel,” Nalai added, “but nothing will control you. Chaos outside won’t become chaos within.”

“This is why we call it Spirit Tempering stage: once you step into it, you’ve tamed your own spirit.”

Quinlan looked forward, deep in his own thoughts.

Still Heart.

It wasn’t about power.

It was about becoming whole.

Serika’s eyes flicked toward him. “You already have strength, Quinlan. Insight, instinct. But your alignment…”

She held up her hand, ticking off fingers.

“Your qi is volatile. Multi-elemental, unstable. Your core is powerful, but raw. Your combat instinct is fire-forged, but too aggressive for water and earth to sync with. And your emotions…”

She paused, tilting her head.

“You still carry rage. Pain. Grief. Vengeance.”

Quinlan didn’t quite like the sound of that. “I don’t want to become numb to my emotions. This Still Heart thingy sounds like a drawback to me… Rage, grief, they’ve made me stronger in the past. They kept me alive. I don’t want to let that go.”

Serika’s eyes flicked toward him, but it was Nalai who answered.

“You won’t. This isn’t about erasing your pain. Or silencing your rage. Does it look like Serika or even I are emotionless husks?”

She looked at him then, gaze clear as moonlit water. “It’s about control. About choice. A storm that rages all the time becomes predictable. A blade that never sheathes dulls faster. But if you choose when to burn, when to strike, when to feel, you don’t lose your edge. You sharpen it.”

She paused.

“The Still Heart isn’t eternal emotional serenity, Quinlan. It’s the eye of the storm. All your chaos still lives inside you—but you decide when it erupts.”

Serika smiled while watching her student react to the news. He didn’t deny its worth. The Still Heart was a mighty tool to any combatant.

Serika patted his shoulder, gently this time. “Which means we get to knock that last bit into place.”

Nalai added cheerily, “Starting today.”

They reached the grand door leading to the training fields.

Quinlan cracked his knuckles, a wild glint appearing in his eye.

“Bring it.”

The grand doors parted with a hiss, unveiling the training field beyond.

It was vast, an arena carved from seamless white stone reinforced by numerous formations. Dozens of towering jade pillars ringed the edge, etched with elemental runes. Above, an open dome revealed the sky, its circular mouth was warded by barrier sigils meant to contain even the wrath of Sovereigns.

Quinlan stepped through, boots tapping against polished stone. His gaze swept the space, admiring the subtle power woven into its very walls. This wasn’t a place for beginners. This was where supreme cultivators made each other bleed so that they could evolve.

Behind him, Serika rolled her shoulders with a predator’s grin.

“I’m first,” she announced, stepping forward. Her voice rang through the arena with the very promise of violence. “Been waiting to burn the smugness off your face, student. I feel that our last practice session made you think quite lowly of me.”

Nalai chuckled behind her, shaking her head with sisterly fondness. “Go ahead, sister. It’s obvious you’ve been waiting a long time for this moment.”

“She’s practically vibrating,” Quinlan added.

Serika flashed him a savage smile, not wishing to hide her emotions one bit. “I am.”

As she strode toward the center, Nalai turned to Feng, who stood a bit stiff at the back, trying her best to stay out of the way of these two legends and their prodigal student.

“Would you like some pointers while they fight?” Nalai asked, her tone light but sincere. “Your affinity for water is unpolished, but not weak. I think I could help.”

Feng froze.

Her mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again. However, nothing came out but a squeaky gasp.

Quinlan’s laugh echoed around them.

“Come on, Feng, stop gawking at the queen like that,” he said, walking up to the teenage girl and giving her head a casual pat. “Not every talentless girl gets offered one-on-one training with a Sovereign, and she’s even of your element at that. I think you might want to say yes before she changes her mind.”

Feng snapped out of her dazed fangirling with a flustered yelp, which soon transformed into hostile growling aimed at one man and one man only.

She turned quickly to Nalai and bowed deeply with her fists clenched. “Please teach me, Lady Nalai! I want to grow strong enough to beat him up one day!”

Nalai raised a hand to her lips, hiding her amusement. “Defeating the Avatar? That’s an ambitious goal.”

Quinlan waved a hand dismissively as he began walking toward the center of the arena, where Serika was waiting for him. “It’s never gonna happen. As they say, dreaming is good, but you should settle for something achievable. You’ll be chasing a star you have no hopes of catching.”

“I’ll show you, Stupid Uncle! You just wait!” Feng declared before scoffing strongly and hurrying after Nalai as the woman began leading her to a viewing platform at the edge while giggling at the antics of the pair.

At the center of the arena, Serika waited.

Her eyes were already glowing: embers dancing beneath her lashes.

She cracked her neck.

“Diligent and humble student of mine, I officially promote you from trainee. I’ll treat you as a proper challenger who’s here to defeat me.”

Quinlan stepped forward, summoning a breath. Fire flickered faintly along his arms.

“Good, because I’m done training, Serika Vael. Your defeated, limp body will soon be lying beneath me.”

“Hoh? Those are very big words for a mere boy. Can you make good on them?”

“Watch me.”

With their brief banter out of the way, the pair faced each other in the ring. No more words were exchanged.

The air stilled. The water curtains ringing the arena shimmered.

Serika Vael stepped forward in the next moment.

Her aura flared.

No longer gentle, no longer teasing, but radiant. Blazing. Overwhelming.