Primordial Villain With A Slave Harem-Chapter 850: Rough Teaching

He moved. Backstep. Sidestep. Earth qi rushed through his legs, giving him traction. A kick slammed toward his midsection. He blocked with his forearm—pain flared—but he withstood it in place and countered with the blow, letting it roll off as he redirected his momentum.

A blast of wind qi exploded from his palm, meant to knock her off balance.

Serika slid beneath it and came up inside his guard.

"Elbow," she whispered with a grin.

It slammed into his side.

He staggered and had his breath stolen from his lungs.

"You’re mixing elements significantly better already," she praised while landing a second strike on his exposed sides, "but now another issue has become apparent: you’re relying too much on them. It’s as if you don’t know anything about proper combat using only your body. You’re great with your saber, but when it comes to punches and kicks...? You rely on the elements to do the heavy lifting for you during those times."

Her knee came up, and he dropped with wind-light speed, swept her standing leg with a pulse of water qi from his palm, trying to collapse her stance.

Serika rode the sweep with cat-like grace, planted one palm, and flipped through the momentum with great flexibility. In the same breath, she dropped her weight and scissored her legs around Quinlan’s, rolling him flat on his back. A heartbeat later, she was victoriously seated on his waist with her knees pinning his arms to the ground. Her ponytail swung forward, scattering drops of sweat across his face. Quinlan wasn’t the only one who was getting a workout.

She grinned down at him. There was nothing sultry about it, just pure, battle-drunk delight.

"Well, student? Words of wisdom?"

Quinlan wheezed from exertion. "Of course I heavily lean on the elements while fighting with my bare fists! I’m a swordsman, not a brawler!"

Serika clicked her tongue, the smile fading to a stern look. "I know that. But picture the Invader ripping the wind around your sword and hurling it a mile away. Or flooding the ground so every footwork pattern you’ve drilled becomes useless mud. We’re dealing with an unknown enemy who might have tricks up his sleeve that you or I can’t even imagine. As such, the best move we can make is to limit the number of variables that can go wrong in our fight against him, which I plan to do by teaching you how to be effective in combat by relying only on your fists and cultivation."

She paused for a second before adding, "I’m not one to say smart lines, but I still know one thing for certain: we cultivators can only trust our bodies, Quinlan. Gear enhances the foundation—never replaces it."

He worked an arm free, nodding with great sincerity in his eyes. "Then I’ll do my best-"

-and snapped a short hook toward her ribs mid-sentence.

She caught the punch with a smug light shining in her eyes... right until his knees slammed upward. Earth-qi braced the joints, and using a burst of fire bolstered speed, two hard kneecaps popped her square in the butt. Serika toppled forward with a strained grunt, rolled once, and sprang up again. To Quinlan’s dismay, she was more surprised than hurt.

Her answering grin was feral. "Good! Very good. You managed to land a hit on me much sooner than I ever could’ve imagined."

Quinlan’s own smile flashed. He was incredibly grateful to have found a teacher who was not only a joy to look at but also wasn’t a stuck-up lady who would go on about a tirade regarding his sneak attack. Instead of calling him a rude cunt for attacking a lady from behind, she praised him wholeheartedly for the attack.

As such, he felt greatly energized when he jumped to his feet and launched himself right at her.

What followed was a blur:

She shoulder-checked him hard enough to rattle teeth. He rolled, used a wind burst to right himself, and jab-stepped in from a new angle. She parried it with both palms.

"You’re getting really rough with me, Teach."

"You are incredibly sturdy for someone in the Core Formation stage, so you can take a beating. Furthermore, you’re driven by an immense amount of ambition, Quinlan. Lastly, from what I can tell, you’re a training fanatic just like me. So I thought dropping the baby wheels would be right up your alley," she decreed with a grin that was both proud of him and excited to fight him, and blurred forward.

She grappled his wrist, from which he slipped free with water-soft flow and seared her elbow with a flame-coated palm. Serika hissed with approval, caught his hip, and flung him over her head using her immense physical strength. He bounced once, dizzy, just in time to raise an earthen shield against her rib-kick.

Her palm split the shield as if it were mere pottery. She swept his legs, and he hit the ground hard, wheezing.

Serika’s knee pinned his chest to the ground again victoriously, rock steady; one hand braced on her thigh, the other slicking sweat-wet hair from her eyes. Despite her somewhat sweaty forehead, she was hardly panting while Quinlan could barely drag in enough air not to suffocate.

"You’re improving," she said with sparkling eyes. "But stop using the elements as if they were mere crutches. Let them be your body. Don’t wear them like borrowed clothes."

"Yeah," he rasped, nodding in complete agreement. "On it."

She leaned closer as a wicked grin replaced her excited but still teacherly visage. "Also, I win."

He smirked up at her. "Enjoy while it lasts, Teach."

"Still confident about you getting that massage?" she teased, grabbing onto both his wrists and planting them above his head.

"I’m not just confident," he coughed up some blood, then winked. "I believe that I’m wholly deserving of it. After all, based on your very own admission, I managed to land a proper hit on you much sooner than the Fire Sovereign herself dared to expect."

Serika laughed at his extreme confidence for someone who was thoroughly handed his ass in this session of theirs, and rolled off him. The training was over for the day.

...

The second bath was quieter than the first.

The sun had dipped past the horizon, painting the river in silvers and blues. Crickets sang. Fireflies blinked lazily through the trees.

Quinlan sat half-submerged, letting the warmth soak into the aches that had built up across the long, strenuous day.

He heard her approach behind him and glanced over his shoulder only to see her bare body that was ’covered’ only by a towel that was slung over one shoulder.

She’d bathed rapidly before he even had the chance to join her this time, saying she had to fetch her lady servant, the woman called Taalin, to get the tools needed to prepare his reward.

Feng had been instructed not to cockblock him again, so after a lot of huffs and puffs, the gremlin girl agreed to watch the camp while they were away.

Now, under the soft glow of an oil lamp nestled beside a towel spread across flat grass, Serika stood barefoot.

"So." She cracked her knuckles. "Time to uphold my end of the bargain."

Quinlan practically rushed out of the river and quickly gave himself a wipe with his towel before discarding it in his eagerness.

"Are you going to massage me while naked, Teach?" he asked, hopeful.

Serika shrugged her shoulders dismissively before saying, "I think it’ll help make the massage feel better. The pros don’t need to be naked, but as I said, I’m a complete amateur. The direct physical contact might make it easier for me to sense your body’s responses to my touch."

"By all means," Quinlan nodded, replicating Serika’s seriousness.

It was time to receive Serika’s Heavenly Oily Massage!!