Primordial Villain with a Slave Harem

The four shards pulsed quietly within his core—fire, water, earth, wind. Fused, stabilized, resonant. The weight of Zhenwu’s elemental balance now rested in his soul. The sky itself shimmered with quiet recognition.

The world stilled for a moment as Quinlan received a message, sharp and metallic, slicing across his perception. It was a systemic one.

[Ding!]

[The Soul Records Detected Sovereign Integration.]

[All Four Elemental Authority Nodes Acquired.]

[You are now recognized as the True Ruler of Zhenwu.]

[Initiating Sovereign-Level Configuration Protocols.]

[Would you like to rename the world of Zhenwu?]

Quinlan blinked in surprise. The request itself felt… surreal, one he didn’t expect at all. But what truly shocked him was that he was now the… ruler of a world? Back home in Thalorind, he was just an upstart even now… but now he also had a world under his domain?

While it was true that Zhenwu was definitely weaker than Thalorind as a whole, with its Sovereigns likely being the equivalents of the upper level 50s, somewhere near Raika’s and Vex’s power level, it was still such a grand development he couldn’t wrap his head around properly.

Knowing that this was something he would have to digest later, he only thought about the question presented before him for a few brief seconds. He didn’t need long to decide.

“No, don’t change its name. Zhenwu is fine the way it is.”

Three pairs of eyes examined him, each more curious and confused than the last. They couldn’t see the systemic messages as they were sent straight to Quinlan’s soul.

It was Feng who voiced her inner thoughts.

“What nonsense are you muttering about?”

She was thoroughly ignored, making the oriental teen pout cutely.

For once, Quinlan didn’t ignore her on purpose. This time, it was just that his focus had been grabbed by the next set of messages.

[Input: Declined.]

[Confirmed: Zhenwu shall retain its original designation.]

[Next Configuration Option Available.]

[Would the new ruler of Zhenwu like to remove the world’s Isolation Status?]

[Effects: Zhenwu will be linked to the Universe.]

[Consequences: Integration of Mana Systems, Magic Theory, and Leveling Frameworks will overwrite local Cultivation Paths.]

[Warning: Invaders from external systems may be able to enter facing significantly less opposition.]

Quinlan’s fists clenched.

This was what Zhenwu had been hidden from. The wider cosmos. Systems and gods and leveling classes. Even now, he wasn’t ready to fight them on open ground. Not without the rules here tying their hands as unwelcome invaders.

He’d already seen what one corrupted god could do even under Zhenwu’s cripplingly severe limitations.

And more than that, more than the difficulties joining the wide cosmos would impose upon Zhenwu…

This world, with its spirit roots, qi seas, soul tempering, elemental harmony… wasn’t it just so incredibly beautiful? Why try to make everything about stats and numbers?

“…No,” he decided. “Let Zhenwu remain Zhenwu.”

[Input: Declined.]

[Confirmed: Zhenwu shall remain a Self-Contained Realm.]

[External Laws will not overwrite internal Cultivation Mechanics.]

Then, the final message came.

[Final Protocol: Sovereign Transit Authority.]

[The Ruler of Zhenwu may channel the Four Sovereign Shards.]

[Upon successful Harmonization, the World’s Edge may be partially opened.]

[Effect: The Ruler may exit Zhenwu and bring chosen companions through dimensional transit.]

[Destination: External Universe.]

[Note: World shall remain sealed to others unless the Ruler wills otherwise.]

A breath escaped Quinlan’s lips, much more worked up than before. Relief coiled through him like a rising flame.

“So I can take them with me…” he whispered under his breath with a giant smile rapidly forming on his lips.

It wasn’t a full solution, not yet. He still had no path home. His portal abilities weren’t strong enough to travel across not only worlds but the vast space separating them. He didn’t have enough mana to do so.

Furthermore, the void between worlds wasn’t some road he could walk, even if he gained his full powers back after leaving Zhenwu’s barriers. He couldn’t just fly across space and hope to find Thalorind through the endless black of the universe. The potential likelihood of getting ambushed on the way hadn’t even been factored in just yet.

All of which meant that to leave…

He’d need the Soul Record again. To return to the Primordial Dimension. There was no other way for him to get back just yet. But that brought with it the next set of problems…

Even if he could just grab onto Serika and Feng as he gets teleported by the Soul Records, which he doubted would work, they’d go mad from the divinity in the dimension. It wasn’t possible for mortals to bear, even he had to leave after a short bit.

“QUIN!”

“My lord, focus!”

Both voices struck him at once. Serika’s was sharp, spiked with the edge of battle-born instincts. Rongtai’s tone was lower but carried urgency and respect. Quinlan’s head snapped up.

Then he saw it.

The sky, once tinted in soft twilight, had darkened again.

Where the titanic corpse of God Venthros had fallen, a violent transformation was underway.

Steam hissed out in bursts. Black goo oozed from the god’s body like ink squeezed from a dying star. His form—vast and monstrous—was melting.

Titanic limbs twisted inward as if collapsing into themselves. Skin bubbled and vaporized. Bones cracked with wet sounds before collapsing into sludge. The very air distorted around the dissolving corpse, bent with heat, corruption, and some twisted final will.

Within seconds, the monstrous form was gone. Nothing was left of the corrupted god but two floating objects, suspended above the ashen crater.

Two orbs.

One pulsed with a deep, primordial radiance, its surface layered in hues—red, gold, blue, and green—each appearing for a few moments before vanishing into the next. It radiated pressure, not from raw force, but from balance. The kind that held mountains aloft and oceans in place. A fragment of creation itself, condensed into a sphere no larger than a fist.

The other was its antithesis. It shimmered with a slick, oily darkness, not pitch black but the kind of ever-shifting void that devoured color and bled wrongness. Within its depths were fleeting shapes—spikes, eyes, tendrils—that never fully formed. An orb that seemed to hunger, pulsing with a slow, predatory rhythm.

Quinlan’s breath hitched.

“Loot drop from a real god…” he muttered, both wary and exhilarated. His steps forward were cautious, but he couldn’t suppress the anticipation prickling down his spine. His soul trembled at the potential.

These weren’t just relics.

They were essences. The core remains of a divine being. The kind of reward even his fellow primordials could only dream of harvesting.

He neared.

The moment he came within a hundred steps, both orbs began to tremble.

And then, before even someone swift like Quinlan could react, they moved.

A sharp whistle screamed through the air as the two orbs launched forward like twin spears, blinding in speed and light.

Twin comets of essence slammed into Quinlan’s forehead with such impossible precision and speed that even his honed reflexes couldn’t make him dodge in time. A flash of multicolored brilliance and pitch-dark shimmer exploded out from the impact point, forming an expanding ripple of distorted air that made the sky waver like a fever dream.

His body arched back violently as the orbs phased into his skull, disappearing without resistance, as though they’d been destined to belong there.

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