Primordial Villain with a Slave Harem

This wasn’t a duel.

It was a lesson in futility.

Quinlan gritted his teeth and unleashed a wide circular flame burst with a stomp, making a wind-fueled shockwave that tore outward.

The air cracked.

But when the flames cleared… Nalai was already above him.

She flipped downward like a falling stream, twisting midair into a liquid sweep that knocked his leg out from under him.

He hit the ground again.

Before he could rise, her palm hovered an inch from his throat, water condensing into a crystalline dagger of pressure.

He froze.

“…Do you yield?” she asked, still as calm as morning mist.

Quinlan glared up at her, then exhaled defeatedly and nodded.

“I do.”

Nalai smiled and lowered her hand. The water dispersed into droplets that fell and vanished.

“You did well,” she said, extending a hand to help him up. “Serika taught you to burn hotter. But to walk the path of the Avatar… you must also learn how to endure. And bend. And adapt.”

Quinlan took her hand, rising to his feet.

“I’ve got a long way to go.”

Nalai stepped back, her expression kind but firm. “Yes. But you’re on the right path.”

She turned toward the entrance of the arena. Her voice, still serene, held a trace of humor now.

“And if you thought fighting fire and water were hard… wait until you meet the mountain.”

…

The moon hung silver and soft above the palace, casting ripples of light over the wide, glassy lake that bordered Nalai’s estate. The dinner had been loud and hearty, mostly thanks to Serika’s and Quinlan’s boisterous antics.

Now, with her belly full and her responsibilities for the day done, Nalai walked the jade-inlaid halls toward the guest suite. She normally wouldn’t bother—privacy was a luxury she valued—but a small voice in her head (and a larger one belonging to her curiosity) whispered that it wouldn’t hurt to check in on her very unique houseguests before retiring for the day.

The suite door stood open a sliver, and a single lantern flickered inside.

To Nalai’s mild surprise, she found young Feng sitting in the lounge area, knees hugged to her chest on a wide cushion, brooding in a manner far too dramatic for someone her age.

Nalai stepped closer. Her tone was light as she dressed the girl. “What’s troubling your young heart, little lotus?”

Feng looked up, startled at the sudden newcomer, then sighed deeply. Her lips drooped into a pout as she stared at the floor with all the melancholic grace of a lovesick poetry scroll.

“I… I don’t like what Serika and Quinlan are doing while sending me away…” she muttered in response.

Nalai blinked.

Then she blinked again.

Her eyelids fluttered like butterflies in a monsoon.

“…Excuse me?” she asked, voice just a bit higher than usual.

Feng gave her a wounded look, like a puppy denied a treat. “They always make me leave before they do it. And the sounds they make, it’s so lewd… Life is not fair…”

Nalai’s stomach dropped.

Her expression cracked clean in two.

“Wait. Wait, wait, wait. Are you saying Serika is… in bed… with a man?”

Feng just looked away and sighed again, like her soul was drifting through tragic winds.

Nalai shot up like a spring-loaded eel, composure forgotten. ‘That muscle-brained idiot?! But she’s never even looked at a man! I used to joke she was married to her training dummies!’ she cried inwardly.

Without waiting for any further information from Feng, she marched across the suite and stopped outside the guest bedroom’s door—Feng’s and Quinlan’s shared quarters. She knew it was rude. She knew she should mind her business. But curiosity and sheer disbelief burned hotter than her water qi could cool.

She leaned close and pressed an ear to the door.

At first, there was only silence… then…

Small breaths of satisfaction.

Some… squishy, oily sounds.

Nalai’s spine stiffened. Her jaw clenched.

And then…

“I know you’re there, sister,” came Serika’s unmistakable voice from inside, loud and lazy. “You can come in if you want.”

Nalai groaned. “This better not be what I think it is.”

She pushed the door open…

And froze.

Two naked bodies glistened under lantern light. Quinlan lay face down on the bed, hair tousled, muscles slack. Serika straddled his back, her palms gliding over him in long, fluid strokes, both of them completely slicked in massage oil. Neither looked remotely embarrassed.

“What in the five flowing hells is this?!” Nalai snapped.

Serika looked up with a sleepy grin. “Massage time. I give him one every night after training. I heard it’s good for blood circulation, muscle relaxation, and many other beneficial things.”

“That’s not what I mean!” Nalai snapped with pink cheeks. “Why are you naked?!”

Serika scoffed and waved a hand like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I tried it with clothes once. It was a total failure. He said it wasn’t as effective as when I was naked.”

Nalai stared at Quinlan, who peeked one eye open from the mattress and offered a weak shrug that was somehow both apologetic and guilty.

“… Oh, I wonder why…” Nalai muttered with venom, eyes narrowing at the treacherous Avatar.

Serika, ever carefree, just shrugged. “Probably my technique’s fault. I’ll get better.”

Nalai turned, massaging her own forehead. “I don’t have time for this. You two… do whatever this is. Just… keep the door closed.”

She was halfway out of the room when Serika called out to her cheerfully, “Don’t you wanna join us, sis? You can do his back while I focus on his legs!”

The door slammed shut behind the queen without a response given.

“How rude…” Quinlan mumbled, half melted into the bed under Serika’s caressing.

“I know, right? What a rude woman,” Serika shook her head with disappointment.

Quinlan sighed, “This is what happens to girls who grow up without a father figure…”

Serika nodded grimly. “Father truly might’ve made a mistake when he sent her away.”

…

At dawn the next day, thunder cracked on the horizon.

The Earth Sovereign had come. And with him, a wild-haired cultivator who rode the winds with a lazy expression.

Quinlan’s training was about to go into overdrive, entering the final phase!

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