Primordial Villain With A Slave Harem-Chapter 797: Brat [Bonus]

Chapter 797: Brat [Bonus]

Quinlan's forehead slammed into the bridge of Zhang's nose.

*CRACK!*

Zhang Yong staggered backward with blood spurting from his broken nose. His balance was faltering as he instinctively brought his free hand up to cover the wound while his eyes widened in disbelief, fury, and pain all at once.

Quinlan didn't give him the chance to properly recover.

He lunged at his weakened prey with the hunger of a starved apex predator.

One boot forward, shoulder low, saber flashing upward in a brutal diagonal slash. Zhang tried to parry, but his form was sluggish, his Flowing Tide rhythm broken by the headbutt and the blinding pain that followed. Their blades met again in a sharp clang, but this time, Quinlan didn't retreat.

Instead, he pressed forward, forcing Zhang to brace against the pressure. Their locked swords slid downward toward the hilts as both fighters struggled for control.

But then, Quinlan suddenly twisted his wrist and yanked his blade sideways, breaking the clash and ripping his saber free.

Before Zhang could react, Quinlan made his move as he swung, targeting Zhang's exposed arm. The black saber carved a clean arc across his forearm, severing flesh and tendon with a snap. Zhang's sword clattered to the dirt, and so did his hand.

"AAAAAARGH!"

He screamed, stumbling backward and crashing to the ground, cradling the bloody stump with his remaining arm. His eyes bulged in horror as he writhed, with his body jerking in pure agony. He'd never felt pain like this ever before.

"You bastard!" he shrieked with his spit flying all over the place. "Do you know who I am?! I'm the fifth young master of the Seastone Clan! My father is Zhang Longwei! Once my father hers of this!!! Argh! He'll come for you! I'll-I'll have your head on a pike! Do you hear me?! I'll-!"

Quinlan walked forward, slow and steady.

No rush.

No hesitation.

The black saber dragged lightly at his side.

Zhang Yong's tirade faltered as that calm expression came into his view. That face… That face of his was unmoved, unbothered by the young master's promises of brutal revenge. It was the face of a man who'd show no mercy to even an innocent infant if the situation demanded ruthlessness, let alone an annoying brat like him, he realized.

"W-Wait," Zhang stammered with his blood soaking through his silk robes. "I-I was wrong, alright?! I see that now! Y-You're strong! You're-y-you're clearly not a peasant, clearly not! We… we got off on the wrong foot!"

He scrambled backward on the dirt like a worm, his stump leaving a smeared trail of red in his wake.

Quinlan followed the now-crying boy with an emotionless, cold face.

"I-I'll reward you! Elemental essence shards! Pills! Jade beauties! No, wait! I can get you a place in the clan! You'll be protected! Anything! Anything you want, just-just don't-!"

Quinlan stopped at the edge of the man's pathetic retreat. His shadow fell across Zhang's trembling form.

He raised the black saber.

Zhang's voice broke into a high-pitched whine. "No! Please! PLEASE!!!"

Quinlan's voice came low. Icy. Final.

"Keeping you alive sounds more trouble than it's worth."

The saber fell in a single, clean motion.

*SHUNK!*

Zhang Yong's head rolled across the dirt, mouth still half-open in mid-beg. His body twitched once, then went still.

Silence settled over the clearing like a blanket.

Quinlan exhaled slowly, regaining his breath, and flicked the blood off his blade.

Feng Jiai stood frozen as disbelief warped her delicate expression with her eyes widening, reflecting the brutal execution. The chirping of crickets returned at last, indifferent to the mortal life just snuffed out.

Her lips parted, but no words came. Just moments ago, she had been at the mercy of a talented young master in the Meridian Opening Stage, a cultivator leagues above ordinary folk. And now… he lay headless, with his lifeblood soaking the soil.

Killed.

By a man who, by all appearances, had no cultivation base at all.

Her gaze darted to the impossibly tall, composed, and eerily calm man, and then her breath caught as she saw him sway.

Just slightly.

A single stagger.

"You're hurt!" she gasped as her eyes dropped to the deep gash torn across his back. Blood was still flowing steadily, dark and thick, staining the dirt and his robes with every passing second.

She rushed to his side and threw her tiny arms around his waist to steady him, barely able to support his weight. Her cheek pressed against his side as her fingers dug into his black robe, trembling from effort.

"Don't die… please… don't die!" she whimpered, eyes brimming with tears. "You saved me. I don't want you to die because of me…"

Quinlan's eyes blinked slowly, then he let out a dry, bitter chuckle.

"I just silenced one squeaking brat, and another instantly takes his place… What a world this is…"

He raised a hand and gently patted the top of her head, with his fingers curling into her dark hair.

"Relax. My blood won't be on your hands. This is but a scratch."

She pulled back, sniffling, eyes searching his face. "I-I didn't think anyone would come for me. He said no one would find out…"

Quinlan didn't have time to waste. "Is anyone else following you?"

She shook her head quickly. "No. He took me out in secret. Said it was… for 'private training.' His lackeys don't even know he's gone."

"Good," Quinlan muttered, more to himself than her. He shifted, lowering himself to sit on the grass with a controlled grunt. "That gives me time. If you'd been followed, I'd have to make a run for it, going as far away as possible. Can't have damned sect elders or whatever on my trail."

He leaned back against a nearby tree, placed the Soul Reaper to rest in its scabbard, and exhaled through his nose.

"I miss my bombshell of an elven DPS healer… Or at least the healing potion from my plump princess. Those two have certainly spoiled me."

Feng Jiai blinked in confusion with tears still clinging to her lashes. "W-What?"

Quinlan's eyes fluttered half-closed. "Don't mind me, girl."

"Don't fall asleep! Please!" she cried, kneeling beside him, clutching his arm with desperation. "Stay with me! Don't go all quiet now, I-!"

"I already told you…" Quinlan grumbled, voice raspier now. "…to stop your squeaking…"

That weak drawl made her wince. It was enough.

She steeled herself.

"W-Wait! Just one second!"

She turned and ran to Zhang Yong's corpse, trying not to look at the severed head lying a few feet away. Her hands trembled as she rifled through his bloodied robes, searching, searching, until…

There.

Her fingers brushed over a hard, disk-shaped object.

A Jadeflow Meridian Bead.

She gasped. It was used by cultivators to accelerate meridian healing or stabilize injuries from disrupted qi flow—highly prized, hard to get, and incredibly potent when crushed over wounds. A cultivator could absorb the essence directly into their skin. Her savior wasn't a cultivator, so these benefits would be lost on him, but the healing effects would work on his flesh all the same.

"I hope this works on you…" she whispered, running back with it clutched in both hands.

She knelt at Quinlan's side, tearing open the fasteners of his bloodied robe, flinching at the sight of the wound across his back. Then, without offering the man another word as she knew he found her voice annoying, she crushed the bead and smeared the shimmering liquid essence across the open gash, watching it weakly hiss as it sank into his skin.

"Stay with me…" she whispered.

Then, taking Zhang's sword, she cut strips from his expensive robes, wincing from time to time at the smell as she worked quickly, fashioning crude but tight bandages. She wrapped them around Quinlan's torso as best she could, tying knots with shaking fingers.

Only once the bleeding slowed did she lean back.

"I won't let you die… You saved me… and now I'll save you," she whispered with determination flaring in her eyes.

"Brat…"

"Stop calling me that already!"

"Brat, tell me about the surroundings."

"Hmph… Typical rude uncle behavior!" Feng Jiai scoffed, dissatisfied with how she was being treated. But she wasn't a girl who would get seriously angry over being treated like a little kid. As such, she did as asked. Well, she would've, but… "What exactly do you mean?"

"Think of me like a man who just woke up from a coma, and my memory has been wiped out. I know nothing but my name."