Primordial Villain with a Slave Harem

Feng jolted, startled from her grief. Her sobs cut short as protective instinct rushed through her.

“!!”

She threw herself between the incoming aquamarine-colored essence and Quinlan with her arms spread. But it did not stop, moving through her effortlessly. Not merely dodging her, but passing through her flesh and bones as if she wasn’t even real.

And then it reached Quinlan and sank into his abdomen in a swirl of luminous light. His body flinched. His eyes flickered with a flash of cool blue.

Before the moment could even settle, a second shard tore across the field.

This one shimmered green. Not the earthy green of forests, but the translucent, flickering green of sky and speed. It looked like a blade of mist, a current of wind made manifest.

It shot from God Venthros’s headless corpse, tracing a twisting path through smoke and ruin. Unlike the first, this one didn’t hover. It raced, unhindered by gravity or sound, so fast the eye could barely follow it.

Feng turned as it closed in. Her eyes widened in disbelief.

“Another?!”

Her hands moved again on pure protective instinct, but she was stopped this time around when a firm hand grasped her shoulder.

Quinlan.

His touch was calm, steady.

Grounding.

Feng froze, stunned. Not by the touch itself, but by the sense of serenity that flowed through it. She looked back, finding his expression to one of confidence and control.

He felt it.

He knew.

“It won’t harm me…” he murmured.

And then the second shard passed through her—again, without resistance, without malice, before it entered Quinlan’s body like the first.

His breath hitched. A pulse of translucent jade light shimmered through his skin, dancing alongside the aquamarine glow.

Two opposing forces. One vessel. The water and wind were swirling deep in his core, seeking balance, testing compatibility.

They found it.

From one moment to the next, the powers stilled.

“Those are the sovereign shards… Don’t worry, Feng,” Serika’s voice sounded all of a sudden.

She didn’t get up from the ground. Instead, she refocused her attention back to her departed sister. Her eyes—those fierce, battle-hardened eyes—softened as they lingered on Lysandra’s lifeless face.

With gentle fingers, Serika reached down and stroked Lysandra’s cheeks for a few seconds. Then, her Her expression trembled as her hand moved to close her sister’s eyelids.

Her lips parted with a shaky breath, one that carried centuries of shared memories.

And then, quietly, she whispered, “Rest now.”

A long silence passed.

Then, rising to her feet with slow resolve, Serika wiped the remnants of her tears with the back of her wrist. Her shoulders straightened, her voice steadied, and the warrior returned to her body.

Not knowing what words could be uttered here, she silently patted Rykar’s shoulders with tender motions. But the man was unresponsive, staring at Lysandra wordlessly.

“The wind and water Sovereign Shards…” Serika murmured, expanding on her earlier words. Her gaze drifted back toward her father, clearly worried. But she made no move to disturb him. Serika knew Rykar’s grief was not something that could be touched by words, so she did not try to force comfort where it wasn’t asked for.

“So those are the fabled Sovereign Shards…” Feng whispered, more to herself than anyone else. Her voice trembled at the end, not from fear, but from awe—and uncertainty. But instead of pressing Serika for more information about this topic that could quite likely affect the whole world, her thoughts brought her elsewhere.

Feng hesitated, her throat feeling incredibly tight. But the girl looked at Serika and forced the words out.

“Serika, are you…” She faltered. Stupid question. Her lips pressed into a thin line, regret flickering in her eyes.

Of course, she wasn’t okay.

Feng’s voice softened instead. “Please… let me know if there’s anything I can do. Anything at all.”

Quinlan nodded beside her. His tone was quiet, but resolute. “Anything,” he echoed, not as a platitude, but a promise. His gaze met Serika’s, steady, respectful. Not pushing. Just… present.

Serika blinked once, as if surprised by their sincerity. A small, weary breath escaped her.

She gave a faint nod of appreciation. But then, she straightened again, willing herself back into focus.

“We’ll mourn soon…” she said softly as her eyes returned to Quinlan, the faint light of elemental power still dancing within him.

“But first, you need to understand what’s now inside you.”

“They’re not treasures you find in each sovereign’s treasury or another hidden location. They’re not cultivated, not traded, not reforged. Sovereign Shards are pure expressions of elemental authority, bound to each nation’s ruler.”

A deep, strained voice sounded from near them. “You don’t use them. You carry them. They are you. Your bond. Your burden. Your right to rule. Or so our admittedly meager understanding of them goes.”

A battered figure emerged from the smoke and ruin, walking with the dignity of a mountain that refused to fall.

Rongtai.

The Earth Sovereign. His robes were torn, soaked in blood and soot. One arm hung at a grotesque angle, clearly broken. His bald head was scorched, his body a mess of bruises and cracked ribs. And still… he walked. Or, at least, dragged himself.

He managed a tired smile upon feeling the trio of gazes directed at him.

“I made it… Somehow.”

Quinlan moved toward him to help, but he lifted his good hand with his palm raised. “Don’t. I’m… I’m still standing.”

And he was. Just barely. But the weight in his presence was the same. A mountain, even if crumbling.

His voice was rough, but firm.

“The Sovereign Shards are passed on only two ways…”

He paused for a second, collecting his breath.

“…Through death, or willing surrender.”

His gaze drifted to Quinlan now.

“You struck Venthros down, granting you his shard that he took from Zephyra.”

A coughing fit overtook him, blood flecking his lips. He wiped it away with a grimace. “But… Venthros was the one who killed Lysandra.”

He turned, looking to Rykar, who was still kneeling beside his daughter’s body, unmoved like stone. Rongtai gave him a deep nod, more bow than a gesture. His voice lowered with solemn weight.

“You can be proud of your child, old friend. Her sins might’ve been many… But she died a Sovereign. She died fighting.”

Rykar said nothing.

Rongtai sighed at the sight before he turned back to Quinlan with a heavy expression.

“Venthros had already died when the shard was released. If the bearer dies before passing it on… The shard is to be inherited by the one who delivered the killing blow.”

“I see…” Quinlan took in Rongtai’s words with a solemn nod, though his mind stirred with questions. Instinctively, he turned his attention, inward, into his own body, seeking answers.

His awareness flowed into his core, to the swirling expanse of his dantian. Even though he felt nothing wrong, he half expected some sort of chaos, perhaps new formations or transformations due to these being the fabled shards.

Instead, it was eerily quiet. No visible change. His elemental core remained steady. Nothing stood out as sovereign. No distinct formation marked the shards’ presence.

They had entered him for certain, but not like any energy or essence before.

Quinlan’s eyes narrowed. This was something else.

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