Primordial Villain With A Slave Harem-Chapter 834: Crafty Escape [Bonus]

Still, the strain was visible with his large biceps swelling, stretching the fabric tight, as his fingers dug in while trembling from exertion.

With the aid of Earth Qi to reinforce his grip and Wind Qi to soften the pressure and keep sound to a minimum, he slowly pried the window frame free.

The tension creaked once, but barely audible.

He froze, muscles taut as stone, his breath held.

Silence.

Then he continued, easing it open millimeter by millimeter until the final bolt gave, and the entire window lifted free in his hands.

Not torn, not shattered, but freed.

He set it aside silently.

The way out had opened.

Beyond the gap in the wall, he could see it all: open air. Distant rooftops. The lively pulse of the capital.

"Hold on tight," he whispered.

Feng’s grip tightened as instructed.

With a deep breath, Quinlan stepped into the void.

His muscles coiled, absorbing the weight. With every movement, he was a shadow. A phantom.

He descended the outer wall, hopping between narrow ledges like a spider. His fingers dug into stone, softened and molded by Earth Qi. The cracks he made were no louder than the soft scrape of cloth. The night air swirled around them, Wind Qi cushioning each descent, muting each impact.

Down and down, past silent guard patrols and sleeping towers, until finally...

Stone gave way to grass.

The palace courtyard lay behind them.

The outer walls loomed ahead.

But this was the easier part.

Quinlan’s breathing didn’t even hitch. He broke into a light jog, skirting the perimeter of shadowed halls and forgotten corridors. The alarm hadn’t been raised.

They moved like ghosts.

And then...

They passed through an outer gate, cleverly choosing the path taken by servants and supply carriers, bypassing the main arteries. Past the final barricade...

Until suddenly they found themselves in the city proper.

The air changed. Smelled more of sweat and wine. Noise returned: a distant laugh, the clack of dice, the scold of a mother calling her child back inside.

Quinlan rounded a corner and found what he was looking for: a small cluster of drunkards passed out beside a broken cart and half a barrel of something sour and strong.

Feng wrinkled her nose.

"They smell like fermented socks," she whispered.

Quinlan crouched and gently lowered her to the ground. "Stay here."

He moved to the group, formed a fist with his palm, and ensured that not even the deepest sleeper would stir.

Moments later, he returned with two sets of clothes, simple civilian tunics, worn cloaks, and faded belts.

Feng stared at the one meant for her in silent horror. She sniffed the shirt and her delicate features contorted as if she’d smelled a rotten corpse.

"Do I... have to wear this?"

Quinlan quirked a brow. "Would you rather be identified in your flashy silk robes?"

She groaned like the world had ended. "I’m more or less a runaway princess. This is fashion homicide."

"Stop deluding yourself. You’re no princess, just a small clan’s little miss," he said, tossing her the bundle. "Get dressed."

"Hmph!"

A few minutes later, they emerged onto a busier stretch of the city. Both wore peasant garb, their finer features hidden beneath pulled hoods and shadows.

"Once the guards find out we’re missing," Quinlan explained, "they’ll scour the capital and then the whole country for a tall man and a short girl in noble clothing."

Feng sighed, adjusting the oversized tunic. "Well... now I’m a short girl in a rice sack."

Quinlan chuckled, shaking his head at this girl’s eccentric antics as the pair vanished deeper into the crowd.

Two ghosts,

Now free.

They briefly considered their options: spending the next few days moving from city to city under the guise of travelers seeking work. Perhaps he’d take up some labor in construction, financing their way into caravan groups, buying themselves time.

But instead... frёeωebɳovel.com

They chose speed over subtlety. Before their disappearance could even be noticed, they made a mad dash for the border.

Their destination: the beggar sect’s hidden tunnel.

After several grueling hours, the duo emerged on the other side, into the misty forests of the Water Nation.

Naryssia.

"We made it!" Feng squealed, leaping into his arms with abandon. Her legs wrapped around his waist as she laughed and raised a triumphant fist into the air.

Quinlan caught her with ease, returning her grin. "We did it."

They high-fived, and she nestled into him briefly, burying her face into his shoulder with a relieved sigh.

"We’ll lay low for a few days. I need to get my strength back."

"... What do you mean?"

He smiled mockingly at her, as if asking if she truly didn’t know. Seeing that such was the case, he sighed and explained. "Every five days in Serika’s palace, they served us soup, and only then did the maids remain while we ate, using that time to clean our room. That soup had a cultivation suppressant in it. The maids were instructed to stay behind to make sure we finished it."

Feng’s eyes went wide. "Y-You’re kidding...?!"

"Nope."

She yelped, throwing her arms up. "I never realized! All this time?!"

Quinlan shrugged, smirking. "They were thorough. Almost as good actors as you, cheeky brat. But now, we’re going to become clean. Just need to let our bodies expel the suppressant."

She pouted, kicking a stone. "So... what’s next?"

He turned away from Feng, observing the forest’s dark silhouettes. "Next, I need to find the other three elemental shards. Once I have them, I should be able to properly assimilate my core and unlock proper Avatar-style combat."

"How rare are they?" he asked.

Feng gave him a deadpan stare. "Very."

But then her lips curved into an ominous smile. "Buuut... the Jiai family is the merchant branch of the Seastone Clan. We handle the finances. Which means..."

She leaned in with an evil glint in her eye.

"We’re filthy rich. Our treasury contains all three shards."

Quinlan’s grin slowly mirrored hers, dark and wide.

"So you’re saying..."

Feng grinned wider, looking less like a delicate teenage girl and more like a little devil. A perfect partner in crime for the big Devil.

She parted her lips and declared in an almost euphoric voice:

"It’s time to rob my family blind."