Primordial Villain with a Slave Harem

Chapter 946: The Talk That Had To Be Done

Next, Feng stared up at him, eyes shimmering now. Not with tears, but with something softer. Hope. Vulnerability. Something far more delicate than her usual bratty fire.

And for once, the sharp-tongued girl didn’t snap back, didn’t deflect with sarcasm or wit.

She just stood there, biting her lip, heart thundering, waiting. “Yes…?”

“I friendzoned you, without addressing things properly. And considering everything we went through… That’s not right. It’s not fair to you as the awesome person that you are. I wish to change that.”

She stood there, frozen, staring up at him with a complex expression. A dozen emotions collided in her sharp eyes. Shock, hope, pride, and above all, confusion.

“… I am listening, Quinlan,” she whispered, her voice quieter than usual.

Quinlan’s hand remained on her shoulder, firm and grounding. And just like that, the cheeky, confident girl who had once messed around with the god-slayer-in-training suddenly found herself swallowing hard, uncertain whether to laugh, cry, or run.

“You’ve seen it now,” he began quietly, nodding toward where Ayame stood mere moments ago speaking with Blossom and Lucille, laughing, radiant in her calm and pride.

“You know that your body—your figure—has never been a factor in how I treat or feel about you. Ayame isn’t some curvy seductress. She’s slender, composed… and yet, she’s one of the most captivating women I’ve ever known.”

His gaze returned to Feng, warm and sincere.

“I have zero reservations about the fact that one day, you’ll grow into that ’jade-skinned, nation-toppling beauty’ you love to tout yourself as. That isn’t the issue.”

His voice deepened, becoming firmer.

“The issue… is in those very words: ’You’ll grow into.’ Feng, you’re a child. A bright, beautiful, promising one, but a teenager nonetheless. I’m a man. A grown adult. My mind, my soul, my body… we’ve long since crossed that line. Even if your heart has already decided to cling to me, your brain hasn’t finished becoming what it will be. You’re still becoming ’you.’ And until that happens, I can’t—won’t—talk to you like you’re a grown woman. Because you’re not.”

Feng’s lips trembled again, the edges quivering with both acceptance and heartbreak. “I… I knew this is how you felt. Even if you didn’t say it…” she whispered, voice cracking. “But-!”

She looked up, suddenly firming her jaw, voice rising a pitch.

“Then once I grow into-!”

But she never got to finish that sentence.

Because his hand moved from her shoulder to her cheek. Gently, he cupped it, thumb brushing across the soft skin beneath her eye.

“No,” he said softly, but there was finality in the word. “Feng Jiai, you’re a girl in her youth. You should not make such lifelong arrangements for your adult self right now.”

Her wide eyes glistened with held-back tears.

“I’m not cruel enough to give you such false hope. I don’t want you to spend the rest of your childhood aiming to become someone I might want to be with. That would be a cage, not love. You deserve to experience the world… to meet people, to laugh, to cry, to fail, to stand back up, all for yourself. Not for me, Feng. Only for your sake.”

He let the moment hang in the air, his hand still cradling her cheek as if she was something fragile and precious.

“You’ve found yourself in a brand new world. You’re surrounded by new people. Go. Experience it. Discover who you are. Grow into the woman you’re meant to become. You’re not here to become someone I could love, you’re here to become someone you love. And if that person still wants to talk to me one day… We’ll cross that bridge as our fully realized selves we’ve both grown into.”

He pulled his hand back slowly.

“But until then, Feng… I’ll love you as family, as if you were my little bratty sister. I’ll love you fiercely. Unconditionally. But not as a man loves a woman.”

Feng stood frozen for a moment, eyes glassy, chest heaving.

Then she swallowed thickly, nodded, and smiled.

It wasn’t a bratty grin. It wasn’t even a cheeky one.

It was soft. Pure.

And though there was pain in it… There was strength, too.

“…Got it,” she whispered. “I’ll grow up into someone amazing. For my sake alone.”

Then, before the tears could slip free, she turned on her heel. “Please give a minute… I’ll go walk a bit alone.”

She didn’t wait for permission, just walked off, shoulders stiff and hands curled into fists at her sides, displaying the effort it took to hold herself together.

Quinlan watched her for a long moment. Then turned his head.

“Lyra.”

The pink-haired knight straightened immediately, tone becoming formal. “My lord?”

“Keep an eye on Feng. There are traps laid throughout the stronghold; protect her from them. She needs room to breathe, not to get herself caught in one of Yoruha’s soul-freezing barriers.”

Lyra nodded once. “Understood.”

She didn’t call out to Feng or try to walk at her side. Instead, she followed at a respectful distance. Not as a friend. Not as a comfort.

But as a silent guardian.

Her job was to give the girl her space while making sure no part of this world dared harm her in her moment of vulnerability.

“Haah…” Serika exhaled slowly, her powerful arms folding beneath her chest as she watched the small figure retreat across the courtyard.

Feng’s stiff back. Her clenched fists. The faintest quiver in her step that gave away more than any sob could.

“Tch.” A quiet, conflicted sigh slipped from Serika’s lips. She hadn’t realized how attached she’d grown to the little loudmouth until now. Feng’s pain felt as if it were her own.

“She’s strong… just not used to wounds that don’t bleed,” Serika murmured under her breath. “She’ll bounce back.”

Then, in a voice that was softer than any denizen of Zhenwu would ever expect from the infamous Fire Sovereign to sound, she added:

“Don’t you dare let this break you, Jiai.”

Quinlan’s voice entered the quiet air.

“She won’t break.”

He was still watching the direction Feng had gone, his elemental eyes soft with something deeper than pride or belief.

Faith.

“She’s so much stronger than that. Stronger than even she knows.” His voice didn’t carry pity or guilt. It carried certainty. “This little heartbreak? It’ll sting, yeah. She might even resume calling me horribly unfair names again, like ’Arrogant Bastard’… But it won’t shatter her. She’s too wild. Too fierce. Too damn stubborn to let something like this hold her back.”

Then, a faint smile tugged at his lips.

“If anything, this will help her grow. Give her depth. Make her into someone who doesn’t just fight well, but understands people better, too.”

He paused for a beat, then added with a thoughtful hum, “Her new class… ’Gremlord of Chaos.’ Honestly, it sounds like a bad joke. Like something the Soul Records cooked up just to mess with her. I mean… Gremlord? Come on.”

Serika snorted despite herself.

“But here’s the thing. The Soul Records doesn’t joke. And even if it did… the existence called Feng Jiai isn’t joke material. Not to me. The moment I saw that title and read its description, I might’ve laughed a bit… but I also knew it was something so much more. Something dangerous. Something… promising. Just like her.”

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