Sexy Sect Babes Two: Chapter Seven (Patreon)

“That’s a lot of fancy shit.”

Jack couldn’t find it in himself to disagree with Lin as he stared out over the massed pile of spirit coins, enchanted metals, elixirs and various other priceless items that were now strewn across his workshop floor.

Looking at it, he couldn’t help but be reminded of a dragon’s horde. Which was somewhat ironic, given the bulk the items in front of him had actually been provided to him by a dragon-woman.

“That’s not even all of it,” Jack said as he slid a metal sword into an industrial press. “Hell, that’s not even most of it.”

Most of it was sitting in a vault upstairs. The stuff down here was more of an eclectic mix of things he planned to run through his scanners. He didn’t think he’d discover much on the ‘mystical front, his efforts to science ki having resulted in little to nothing of worth, but he figured he could at least test the tolerances of the magically reinforced stuff.

And whether or not those tolerances remained after the item in question was snapped, bent or melted.

…It was perhaps for the best that he never told Ren exactly what he intended to use the items he borrowed for. Not that she’d likely begrudge him for it if he did. While she’d definitely gone googly eyed over the spirit coins and weapons, she’d all but squealed like a school girl upon unearthing a number of fairly aged looking books and scrolls.

Items he’d immediately given her permission to do with as she willed, given he had little enough use for them.

At which point she had squealed like a schoolgirl, before blushing red and hastily regaining her composure. Still, her tail had been going a mile a minute as she took a few choice scrolls and vacated his new vault.

“Ugh, I don’t think swords are supposed to squeal like that,” Lin opined from her spot on a nearby sofa.

Jack didn’t comment, as he mentally noted down how much pressure it had taken to flatten the metal sword. A number he was pleased to note was much higher than a steel alloy of that composition should have been capable of. Clearly the runes that had been painstakingly etched into the side of the blade hadn’t just been for show.

Unless they were, he thought. I wouldn’t put it past a canny local to hide their enchanting technique by leaving out a red herring like that as some kind of primitive copyright protection.

Regardless, before he’d done anything else he’d made a number of scans of the inscriptions and fully intended to see if he could replicate the ‘enchantment’ on something else later. For now though he needed to see if the sword still maintained its unnatural level of resilience after being damaged and a number of the symbols distorted beyond repair.

Reaching over, he slid the now warped bit of metal a little further upwards, so that an unblemished section was now under the press.

“Seriously, I wasn’t joking when I said that swords shouldn’t squeal like that. If it’s got a spirit inside it, you’re probably really pissing it off with… whatever it is you’re doing.”

Jack paused in the act of pushing down on the press’s activation switch, which he slowly took his thumb off.

“You mean to tell me that this sword might be alive?”

The idea didn’t phase him. Or at least, not in abstract. He’d developed a pretty high tolerance for weird shit in his time in Magical-Not-China. Living cutlery might have been a little more out there than some of the other stuff he’d encountered since coming here, but not so much that he was about to dismiss it as impossible – or even improbable.

No, what did phase him was the idea that the sword in front of him might be alive and take umbrage to his actions. It wasn’t like he was wearing armor or anything if it decided to just… float up into the air and impale him.

The goat-woman shrugged. “Maybe? I’ve heard that’s something that can happen to cultivator blades.”

Jack sighed. “Do I need to get Ren down here?”

He really hoped not, because he didn’t want to have to explain to a woman who was a merchant at heart, the reason why he was mangling what was likely a near priceless artifact. Nor why he as a ‘craftsmen’ wasn’t capable of figuring out whether the sword he was messing with was alive or not himself.

Lin paused the game she was playing – a flight sim - and put down the controller to fully look at him and the blade. “Probably not?”

He didn’t like how unsure she sounded, something the rather intelligent woman was quick to pick up on.

“Hey,” she complained, throwing her hands up defensively. “You brought me in to warn you about stuff that a local would know. That,” she pointed at the blade, “isn’t local shit. Or at least, normal local shit. That’s sect senior to sect elder level stuff. I never even got to the level of an initiate.”

He blew air out through his nose but conceded the point. This kind of thing really was beyond Lin’s paygrade.

“Still.” She shrugged. “If it’s not making any more noise or doing anything… odd, chances are it’s just a fancy magic sword.”

Jack looked down at the outwardly mundane blade and failed to see anything odd. Slowly, his thumb pressed down on the button once more.

This time the squeal that came from the blade was notably quieter – and the pressure required to deform it far more in line with what he’d normally expect from a mundane steel alloy.

It seemed that whatever magic protected the blade, it failed once the runes were destroyed.

A point in favor of the runes actually being what provides the supernatural element to the blade, he thought as he released his grip on the switch, the press slowly lifting off the deformed weapon. That’s good. That suggests that the supernatural effects are within my means to replicate.

Hopefully.

Provided they don’t need to be imbued with magic mumbo jumbo as well, he thought.

He picked up the now ruined sword and threw it into a bucket filled with similarly deformed items. Later he intended to melt them down and see if he couldn’t recreate their more supernatural elements.

Though hopefully, this time on something more useful, he thought as his eyes panned over to the hulking humanoid form sat at the back of the workshop.

----------------------------

Ren watched with awe as a pair of great metal arms descended from the ceiling to apply a wheel to the base of what appeared to be a great, yet queer, carriage. The reason she felt the need to call it queer, was that it was not a design with which she was accustomed. For one thing, it was a squat rectangular shape, with six wheels spaced out across the underside. Stranger still, it had no doors that she could see, unless one counted the large circular hole upon the roof to act as such.

And she supposed it must, for she could see no other means of ingress or egress. Nor could she imagine any other purpose for such a hole.

“Ren, I’m happy to see you got my message.”

Turning her gaze away from the ongoing construction and the bizarre disembodied limbs performing it, she smiled at her master.

A smile that only grew as she noted his choice of wardrobe – or lack thereof.

For though she knew her employer and teacher lamented the loss of his enchanted armor, Ren would be lying if she said she shared his sorrow. He was much more appealing to gaze upon now that he had been divested of the great clunky thing.

“Ren?”

With determination worthy of the Empress herself, Ren brought her gaze up from the man’s sweaty, grimy and - most importantly – chiseled chest to gaze into his eyes.

“Apologies Master Johansen,” she said with a small bow. “I found myself momentarily overwhelmed by the majesty of your workshop.”

In her experience the best lies held a sprinkling of truth. And it was true that the work going on in her master’s workshop was majestic. She could scarcely move her gaze without having it fall upon some new and fantastical sight. Even the presence of the mortal woman could not diminish that fact, for the goat-girl sat in front of a screen which seemed to hold a view of the world as seen from the eyes of a bird.

“No problem,” the man said with just a hint of bashfulness. “I get that it’s a lot to take in.”

Ren smiled as her momentary faux paux was so easily forgotten. It was part of why she’d felt safe enough to indulge in it in the first place. For though he tried to hide it, she knew her master took some small delight in seeing others awed by his creations.

That small vanity was likely part of why he took such interest in mortals, for they were so easily entertained. Though she had yet to figure out if the man’s low standards for his audiences came from years of isolation as a hidden master, or if it were yet another quirk of whichever strange land produced him?

That was her employer, both laughably transparent in one moment and infuriatingly opaque in the next.

“You would be correct.” She smiled. “Still, while this Ren is ever happy to serve you, I have a feeling that you summoned her for a reason?”

The man frowned a little at her more formal speech patterns – a habit she sometimes fell back into, much to her irritation – before continuing. “Yeah, now that we’re a bit more situated around here, I was wondering if it would be possible to bulk up our muscle?”

Muscle? Did he want her to change her training exercises? On the one hand she was delighted that he was showing an interest in her tutelage… on the other, she was less than enthused by the thought of gaining more muscle mass…

She was not an ox or pig kin with their ridiculous obsession with outward displays of strength.

“If you believe my cultivation could benefit from more weight training exercises, this Ren would be happy to submit to your instruction.”

There it was again, that expression that told her that there had been some miscommunication somewhere. He tried to hide it, but one did not get as far as she had in the Jade Pavillion without learning to read someone.

“Ah, no, that’s fine.” He awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck - a classic tell. “I suppose I should have said that I was thinking of bulking up our security with a few more cultivators. The militia’s fine, but after our clash with Yin, I’m beginning to think we need a few more heavy hitters. To that end, I want you to put out the call that we’re looking for some trustworthy mercs.”

She took a second to process that insanity before shaking her head slowly.

Cultivator ‘mercenaries’ certainly existed, but they did so on a short-term basis, usually in the form of open-ended requests to perform one off tasks. Even then, when one hired such a person, it was with the knowledge that the hirer was not the only one with their hand upon their hire’s leash. Anything the mercenaries did or heard would invariably be filtered back to their sect of origin upon the completion of the contract, if not before.

No, if her master wished to expand his power-base with locally hired cultivators, he would not be able to do so through the appeal of money alone.

With that in mind, she spoke to her master calmly and with confidence. She knew he preferred that in his subordinates. Which was a trait she was thankful for. It made dealing with him in her role as his subordinate infinitely more tolerable than those occasions where she’d worked under superior who required extensive simpering and cajoling before any actual discussions of worth could begin.

“I consider the possibility of us finding a single trustworthy mercenary – yet alone multiple - to be unlikely.”

“Why?” His response was instant. A simple request for clarification. No yelling or screaming.

Ren smiled. Yes, it was indeed gratifying to work under someone who did not fly into a rage when someone proposed an issue inherent with their plan of action.

She cleared her throat before continuing. “One does not leave a sect for any reason but to join the Imperial Army. Ignoring the initial cost of training an aspirant, no sect would entertain the possibility of a former member spilling their techniques to another lightly. To that end, they would execute anyone trying to leave.”

Jack frowned. “You left your sect. An left hers.”

Ren’s eyes twitched slightly at the thought of the flea-bag. “The cat was moving to join the Imperial Army at the breach before you interfered in her plans. I cannot guess to her thought processes after that, but I imagine they mirror my own. Specifically, I only left my sect once I judged you powerful enough to give my former colleagues pause.”

After all, she’d only ‘formally’ cut ties with her former sect after their clash with Yin. Prior to that, it had been a business arrangement.

Jack took a second to process that, likely mulling over the fact that by accepting her allegiance, he’d unwittingly accepted her enemies.

“Are they going to be a problem?” It both gratified and terrified her that he sounded decidedly unconcerned by the prospect.

“No.” She shook her head. “You present too much of an opportunity and threat to risk antagonizing. I have also stressed to my former master that I will take my secrets to the grave.”

“That’s good,” he said, before an idea occurred to him. “What about defunct sects? Sects that have dissolved for one reason another. Like the Marble Cloud Sect.”

Ren resisted the urge to point out that the Marble Cloud was not rendered ‘defunct’, it was slaughtered down to the last man, woman and child. Not even the mortal servants had been spared.

“Sects rarely fall.” She explained calmly. “Or at least, established city sects rarely fall. The ten families have been named as such since the foundation of Ten Huo. The destruction of the Marble Cloud Sect has been an event that has rocked the city.”

She paused in thought. “I imagine what you suggest might occur to a smaller country sect for whatever reason, but I would not bet on me finding any individuals originating from such an event with any degree of reliability.”

More than likely they would br ecruited or eliminated by those sects nearest to them before any news of their existence reached the nearest city.

“Well shit,” the man muttered. “There goes my plan of supplementing my muscle.”

Ren instantly saw the opportunity to raise her esteem in her employer’s eye. “Why not start a sect of your own by recruiting from the local populace? Even ignoring the populace of Jiangshi, we have an ample number of potential applicants to draw from here in Ten Huo.”

It was a fairly obvious suggestion in her eyes, but given that her master had an alarming tendency to gloss over the obvious despite his talents as a craftsmen, she’d be happy to take credit for it.

…Or she would, were it not for the complicated expression that came over his face.

“I don’t have the time nor the temperament.”

She felt like slapping herself as she looked around at the myriad of miracles on display. Of course her master wouldn’t be interested in training up a sect. He had been a hidden master prior to his arrival in Jiangshi; a cultivator who had little interest in the politics of the Empire or its sects, only in their craft.

It also went some way to explaining his lack of interest in tutoring her.

“We could bring in another cultivator to act as a Sect Elder,” she quickly blurted out.

The man gave her a funny look. “Didn’t you just say we couldn’t hire anyone on?”

She shook her head. “We couldn’t hire enough cultivators to make an appreciable difference to our power base, but if it were just a single cultivator to train others, it might be possible.”

“How?”

“We appeal to someone from the local sects.”

He shook his head. “You just said that would make us enemies. Unless the other sects are also too afraid of pissing me off to cause a scene.”

This time it was her turn to shake her head. “The Jade Pavillion is unique in that we put profits above face. Even then though, they would act certainly if you stole another of their members. That would suggest a dangerous pattern.”

She tapped her thigh. “No, we should poach a trainer from someone who is already slated to become our enemy. If it’s just the one, I think we could get away with it without the other sects closing ranks.”

Jack raised a hand. “Hold up, we already have enemies? I thought I just spent the last week bringing people around so we could avoid that.”

Ren cocked her head. “That was valuable, certainly, but certain sects will array themselves against us regardless. One already has; the Silver Paw.”

She saw the lack of comprehension in her master’s eyes.

“Their leader insulted you at the party?”

He was still staring.

“She likened you to a bull without a pen?”

Still staring.

“…That was an insult?” he asked.

Ren felt like slamming her head into the wall.

“Alright,” Jack coughed. “If you say they’re our enemy, we needn’t worry about pissing them off. Do you think we could tempt one of their people?”

Ren nodded. She already had a candidate in mind. Not an ideal one certainly, but she was aware of a talented young woman who was chafing under the leadership of the current matriarch.

…She wasn’t utterly bereft of the misandry so common amongst the Silver Paw, but Ren felt that her master’s obvious power was well situated to blunt the worst of it.

Hopefully, she thought.

Ignorant of her thoughts, her master was stroking his chin. “Still, for a person that fits all the criteria we need… I can’t imagine she’ll be cheap.”

His eyes turned to where part of the Magistrate’s first payment lingered in the corner of his workshop – and was it her imagination, or was it smaller than it had been when her master removed the eclectic mixture of items from the vault?

She pursed her lips, hating what she was about to say, but being compelled to do so anyway. It wasn’t like she was eager to part with any of their horde either.

“What… what if we could get them to join our sect for… free?”

Jack’s gaze turned to her. “Why would they do that? No one does anything for free. Everything has a price.”

That was a surprisingly mercantile statement from the man, and one she could tell he believed absolutely.

With that in mind, she posed her answer with a question. “Why am I working for you?”

The massive man’s eyes widened a fraction, before he shrugged. “I thought it was the value of my guns and,” he gestured around them, “all of this.”

She nodded. “Those things were a factor, yes, but there was another other reason.”

He opened his mouth, as if going to say something, but held himself back.

…Then he said it anyway.

“My… dick?”

Ren flared bright red.

“A guarantee that my hypothetical heir would be compatible with ki.” She corrected. “Access to you presented a possible means through which to secure my personal lineage. That kind of opportunity is in a very real way, priceless.”

Well, not quite. The services of any number of male cultivators within the city could be acquired for the right price. The issue lay in the fact that said price usually came in the form of political favors that none beyond a sect leader or elder could supply.

Even as she said the words, Ren found herself blushing deeper at being forced to say it out loud. This sort of thing was usually… implicit, but as she’d come to realize, expecting her master to realize that was essentially an exercise in futility.

So she had to say it, if only to get him to… uphold his end of their unspoken bargain – even if it burned her that she was basically telling him to… whore himself out. Not just to her, but to the woman they intended to recruit as well.

“Ah… I see.” Jack said slowly. “Right, I guess I need to get to work on something.”

Then he walked away. Which was rather impressive, given that this was his workshop. Nonetheless, he walked straight across the room, up a staircase and out of sight.

Ren just watched him go.

“I think you came on a little strong.”

Ren’s gaze was blazing as she turned toward the mouthy little mortal that dared to speak to her. Not that the girl seemed to notice, staring as she was at the ‘screen’ in front of her. Not even a small flaring of killing intent had the goat do more than shiver slightly.

In the end, Ren sighed, her gaze flitting down to her legs. Was it her imagination, or did her master’s eyes seemed to linger there before he wandered off.

Then he’d shivered.

…Were her thighs that repulsive? Were they flabby? Did he prefer more petite girls like the cat?

She didn’t know.

The minds of men are a mystery, she thought morosely.

--------------------

She was still feeling a little morose the next as her servant’s dressed her. So much so that she nearly didn’t notice when the peculiar tablet currently held by one of her people ‘pinged’ to indicate it had received a message.

Looking at the screen, she was relieved and intrigued to see it had come from Jack. A feeling that only redoubled, along with a burgeoning excitement as she regarded the content.

“Hey Ren, sorry about disappearing so suddenly on you yesterday. I need you to meet me in the North Wing. I’ve got… a surprise for you. I think you’ll, uh, like it.”

All but knocking her attendants over, she strode out of the room with all due haste a lady of refinement like her could display.