Sexy Sect Babes Three: Chapter Seven (Patreon)

“I think it’s time we talked.”

It was almost funny, the sudden ‘deer in the headlights’ look that came over Huang as Jack sat down across from her. The way the rather large dumpling that had been on the way to her mouth froze in place, her delicate lips opened in a rather indelicate manner as she prepared to take a bite.

A bite that never came.

Of course, as amusing as the sight was, it also served to make him feel guilty. The Huang he used to know would have never been caught off guard like this. Or rather, she wouldn’t have cared if she did.

Of course, that’s not to say that the old Huang was some paragon of personality, he thought as the dragon-kin slowly let her dumpling drop back down to her plate. She was arrogant, vicious, and scary as hell.

Still, between the old Huang and the new, he preferred the old. Perhaps it was Lin’s influence or just the culture of the land sinking into him, but he preferred proud bombastic women over quiet subservient ones.

“If that is the great one’s wish,” Huang said slowly, glancing around as she realized that the rest of the engineering staff had surreptitiously cleared out of the lunchroom that adjoined their facility. “This lowly servant is ever at the great one’s pleasure… and has been for weeks.”

Jack didn’t flinch. Because while he felt guilty for leaving Huang in the lurch, it wasn’t like he’d just been scratching his ass for the last few weeks.

Fixing the wall – as best I can without magic. Building new skyblocks. Changing the… management of said skyblocks. Dealing with Shui. Dealing with Yating. Starting a number of projects. Continuing a number of other projects. Building my new ‘dragon armor’.

He’d been busy.

Still, it was nice to see just a hint of the woman that the princess had been before peeking out from behind the woman she was now.

“I know, and I apologize for that.” Again, it was amusing to see Huang twitch as he apologized to a mortal – or at least, a close equivalent. “Things have been changing fast around here and it was all I could do to stay on top of it all.”

“I understand,” she said, surprisingly demurely. “I faced similar situations during my tenure as Magistrate.”

He smiled. “Please. Drop the formalities. Call me Jack. Or Johansen if that’s too familiar.”

“Jack.” She said it slowly, as if she were tasting the word.

Glancing up, he noticed a familiar figure had appeared in the doorway at some point. Lin was there. Grinning. And as she noticed the direction of his gaze, she gave him a beaming thumbs up.

…It was all he could do not to shoo the irritating goat-woman away. He certainly didn’t want an audience for this heart to heart – and he doubted Huang did either.

“Still,” he continued, deliberately turning his attention back to the Imperial scion. “Needed or not, you deserved better. You gave up everything to protect this city.”

Slowly, one of her hands came up, rolling the dumpling around her plate in a surprisingly childish move. “It was my duty.”

“And you deserved to be rewarded for fulfilling that duty. Not derided. Or deposed.”

Huang laughed bitterly. “It was only natural. I am… not worthy of the title anymore. The strong lead. The weak serve.” She leaned back, staring at the ceiling. “Even my servants abandoned me.”

Jack nodded slowly. It wasn’t lost on him that barely a few days ago he’d been the one to kill those servants when he bombed the old fort the Imperial remnant had been hiding out in.

The same women whom he’d been fighting alongside in defense of the city barely a month before that. The same women that had been serving the dragon-kin across from him since her birth, that would have died for her without question. The same women that had stood aside and allowed Shui to depose Huang because of her current depowered nature.

If Jack was feeling some complicated emotions about the whole thing, he couldn’t even begin to imagine what was going through Huang’s head.

Slowly, with some uncharacteristic trepidation on his part, he slid his hand across the table and placed it gently atop the princess’s own. The dragon-kin started slightly at the touch, but didn’t pull away. After a few moments, she leaned into it.

“Now I can’t even go home. My mere presence would be an insult. An abomination. The anathema to everything that makes a member of the Imperial Clan a true dragon-kin,” Huang muttered. “Even if my own mother didn’t oust me, my siblings would surely ensure that I did not live to see a second sunrise from the balcony of my own room.”

Jack nodded slowly. That had been both An and Ren’s read on the situation too. And if those two agreed on something, it was generally best to listen.

Still, it was reassuring, if not pleasant, to have those suspicions confirmed – even if it meant that his nascent plan to use Huang’s safety as a show of compliance if this whole ‘independence’ thing went tits up was now stillborn.

It was yet another reminder that the locals were hardcore. This world really was dog eat dog. It was honestly enough to make him wonder if the Instinctives and Imperials were really so different after all.

In theme, if not method.

He shook his head. There was no point in dwelling on this kind of shit. That wasn’t him. He was a dumbass miner. Not a politician or a philosopher.

He created simple solutions to complicated problems.

“Perhaps.” Jack allowed. “Unfortunately for all of them, they could demand you be returned to them until their throats go hoarse and I still wouldn’t hand you over.”

The hand underneath his own stiffened in surprise, as a pair of wide golden eyes stared up at him.

“I’m a greedy man,” he continued. “I won’t hand you over. Because I still have a use for you.”

Back on Earth, he’d often found that when a woman – or sometimes a man - was speaking they didn’t necessarily want suggestions or answers to their problems. More often than not, they already knew the answer to the problem. They just wanted an opportunity to vent.

Which was fair enough. Jack certainly knew the feeling.

This wasn’t Earth though. The women – specifically the cultivators – here were more like men he’d known.

And men, more often than not, didn’t want emotional support. On the whole, men derived their own value from their usefulness.

They needed to be needed. They thrived on it. On goals. On being relied on.

So that was what he’d give her.

Purpose.

“Because while you might not be able to shatter boulders with a flick of your finger, you still have plenty of other uses.”

Those golden eyes continued to regard him intensely, curiosity flashing across them. Then they turned away as the woman’s entire face flushed a deep crimson.

“Not like that.” He rolled his eyes.

“…Ah?” It was amusing, the mixture of relief and disappointment that shifted across the dragon-kin’s features.

He chuckled. “Though if you’re interested…”

He trailed off, allowing Huang to fill in the gap once more.

And for just a moment, she wasn’t the woman who’d been deposed or the tyrannical magistrate. Instead he got to see an entirely new side of the scion.

“I would not be… averse,” she stuttered like a schoolgirl that had just been asked out for the first time. “I would admit that I am curious. At the height of my power, there were not many men who could have… been with me prior.” She paused, eyes roaming over his massive frame. “Though now that I am on the other side of that equation, I would admit to some trepidation.”

She clenched her fist. “I’m as frail as a mortal now. I might… break.”

Jack rubbed a thumb across her knuckles with deliberate gentleness. “You need not worry on that account. I’d be a pretty shitty craftsman if I couldn’t be deft when needed.”

Though even as he said the words, he couldn’t help but think how much of a welcome reprieve it would be to enjoy a little tender loving. As much as it hurt his manly pride. Because while Ren and An were literal demigoddesses in the bedroom, it would be nice to end a lovemaking session not feeling like he’d just gone nine rounds with a heavy-weight boxing champ.

“T-Then, I will be in your care,” the woman across from him stuttered.

The two deliberately glanced away from one another in a rather uncharacteristic display of mutual embarrassment, before he continued his conversation with a small cough.

“Before any of that though, I do have an actual job for you.”

That seemed to finally knock Huang out of the cycle of embarrassment she was stuck in as some genuine interest seemed to seep back into her posture. “Oh?”

He took a deep breath. “I have no idea how to run this city. For the moment it’s still mostly in Shui’s hands and Ren’s helping me with some of it, but it’s not really her wheelhouse either.”

An was useless.

Less than useless, really.

She barely even knew the names of the local sects and had less than no interest in the politics that motivated them. She was much happier talking about how best to gut them of their experienced mortal officers with Gao in the name of finally cultivating an actual officer corps worthy of the name amongst the militia.

He had a list of names nearly a mile long of candidates that he was supposed to ‘request’ from the sects at their next meeting. Which would hopefully be easy enough.

It was Gao’s request for some actual cultivators to be placed in his chain of command that he was less sure of. Even with the threat of Jack’s boot hanging over them, he didn’t see that whole process being easy or seamless.

“You want my advice?” Huang asked slowly.

I want you to run the whole thing, he thought.

Naturally, he didn’t say that.

“You might have lost your powers, but you still have your mind.” He gestured to the handgun on her belt – a recent addition. “Amidst other abilities.”

The dragon-kin had seemed enthused at him asking for her advice, but her smile stilled slightly at the mention of the gun.

“A power for mortals perhaps,” she shook her head. “But a mere trinket for a cultivator.”

“That’s not true and we both know it. You knew these things were dangerous when I first lent them to you.” He sat back. “And time has only proven it more and more true given that I’ve recently got a report back from Jiangshi. Yesterday a mortal man killed a cultivator from the East with one of those.”

Actually it had been several men who’d killed the cultivator. By shooting from point-blank in an enclosed environment. While said cultivator had been ignorant of what the weapons were.

Huang didn’t need to know those details.

Mostly because he doubted any of those men could get two headshots with one bullet by bouncing them off a wall. Let alone accomplish the feat consecutively on different targets. Because while Huang no longer possessed superhuman strength or speed, she still apparently possessed inhuman dexterity scaled to her power as a cultivator.

And Huang had been very powerful indeed prior to her clash with the Red Death.

“Really?” Huang murmured as she looked down at her gun.

“You’ve seen An carry them,” Jack pointed out. “Which means she thinks they are useful despite her strength. And I’d point out that a bullet from that gun at your waist would be just as deadly as any fired from hers. Regardless of who pulls the trigger.”

He could almost see the gears turning in Huang’s mind. The same mind that had originally seen the value of his guns now cast off the shackles of her depression as she considered the weapon in a new light.

When she finally looked up at him, he could see fire in her golden eyes.

“I would be honored to provide you with my insights as to the proper running of a city.”

Jack grinned, before instantly pulling out his datapad. “Alright, first of all, I’ve got a request from the Copper Flesh Sect to arbitrate a dispute between them and…”

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Yating sat cross legged atop a nearby mountain peak, enjoying the roaring wind and ambient wild ki in the air. The Monkey’s tainted ki might have seeped across the lands of the empire like invisible mist, but there were places it hadn’t reached.

This was one of them.

That wasn’t why he was waiting here though. He was waiting here because if this fight turned ugly, he would need only demolish the mountain top to turn the fight into an aerial battle.

And the skies had ever been where he held the advantage over his nominally landbound kin.

Of course, that was no guarantee of victory. Far from it.

Jack often asked why Yating hid his gender. Personally, the Rooster thought that the answer was obvious. Yating hid his gender because he was the weakest of the divinities by a wide margin. It was a simple fact of life.

While to most cultivators ki was simply ki, those at the highest levels knew it came in two distinct types.

Yin and Yang.

And while Yin was plentiful in this world, Yang was far more furtive.

Yating stretched out his hand and manifested some of the masculine energy, forming a white tendril of light that fluttered and danced in the wind.

That was why male cultivators were so few and so weak compared to their female counterparts. The energy that allowed them to cultivate was just so hard to find.

The rooster snorted tiredly, releasing his hold over the energy before watching it sink into his palm once more.

He’d kept his gender hidden from the start. In the early days when half-beasts were rare, attempts to capture him and his fellow divinities by the previous Imperial Court had been common. None had succeeded, but the humans of the old Empire had not been weak, and they had come close on a few occasions.

Yating had known that had his true gender been revealed, he would have become the most sought after target for those hunts for a myriad of reasons.

And the less said about what my peers might do, the better, he thought.

Jack had no idea how close he’d come to death when he’d so casually revealed the secret of his gender. Yating had told only a few over the years of his true self. His earliest lovers. People he trusted with his life and his children.

That need for secrecy – a real connection – was a large part of why the Rooster population of the Empire was the smallest. It took something out of him each time. To meet a woman. Forge a connection. Fall in love. Have children. Then watch them wither and die as age took them.

His peers avoided that by keeping their liaisons brief and frequent.

The only notable exception was the Dragon, who’d maintained a steady string of husbands throughout her reign.

Then again, she was always a little monstrous like that, Yating thought with just a hint of envy.

Unbidden, his hand moved to the small of his back – the brand there burning at the mere thought of his master.

He could resist its pull, but he could not break it. The nexus beneath the Imperial Palace was too strong for that.

There was a chance now though. Through the most absurd of flukes, freedom was finally within his grasp.

It would take time though. Jack needed time to grow in strength and experience. To sharpen his claws.

And it was up to Yating to buy him that time.

He closed his eyes for but a moment, and when he opened them again, she was there.

Murm.

The Empress’ enforcer. Her private hound.

Which is ironic given she’s a tiger, Yating thought, giggling quietly to himself.

The tiger woman across from him frowned, blue-green eyes flashing dangerously at his outburst.

“I see you’re still the same as ever, bird,” she grunted.

Yating stood up, brushing some errant patches of snow from his robes as he did. “I could say the same of you Murm.”

Neither of them had been complimenting the other. The air around them practically crackled with the energy drawn from two divinities in close proximity. The very weather responded to their whims, turning dark and angry as thunder rumbled overhead.

If they fought, he would lose. Even when he was working in conjunction with the nexus he had been weaker.

Without it his defeat would be laughably easy for his fellow Imperial.

“You’re overdue,” Murm said without preamble, never one to mince words. “The fake-dragon. What happened to it?”

Yating shrugged. “He died.”

“It wasn’t you.”

“No.”

“Who? How?” Murm shifted just a bit, adjusting her footing. From the taciturn tiger-woman, it was as great a show of discomfort as Yating had ever seen.

Which Yating could understand. Jack scared him too.

When you were as powerful and ancient as he and his peers were, anything capable of reminding them that, for all the airs they put on, they were still mortal… Well, that was something to be feared.

“An outlander. Not from any land we know. He’s no yokai or godling.” Yating said. “He uses abilities and powers that I have never before seen.”

Murm paced irritably. “He’s still in the Empire?”

Yating couldn’t imagine how unnerved his peers must be. To know a threat like that was wandering around when they had no way of sensing it. Or even knowing how it killed.

He did, and he still felt his feathers stand on end around Jack sometimes. The man was just… a void to his senses.

It was unnatural.

…Though he’d be lying if he said that didn’t excite him on some level. It made him feel alive in a way he hadn’t felt in centuries.

“That he is,” he said. “He’s claimed the city he saved as payment for saving it.”

Murm scowled, the snow around her turning to steam in moments as her hackles raised. “And you just let him!?”

Yating shrugged. “He’d just killed one divinity. I wasn’t eager to figure out if he could kill a second.”

The tiger-woman took a few moments before calming. “We don’t need this right now. The Traitor is more wily than we gave her credit for her. The half-breeds that slipped through our cordon are proving to be a problem. The magic she has imparted to them has caused a number of cities to fall across the North - further disrupting our supply lines at the front.”

Yating nodded. None of this was news to him. He’d seen it.

“I agree. Which is why I have been negotiating with this… Outlander. He is amenable to staying within ‘his’ city so long as he’s left alone.”

“The Empress will not like that.” It was clear Murm didn’t either. “It shows weakness.”

He shrugged again. “I imagine she would like this Outlander siding with her enemies even less. The Traitor is a pragmatic woman. Even if the Outlander killed her ally, she would still gladly give him a dozen cities if it meant he joined his hand with hers against us.”

Murm’s ears flicked to the side at the thought. “And what alternative do you present?”

“Let me continue my negotiations with the Outlander,” the Rooster lied. “With time, I may be able to bring him around to our side.”

The Tiger’s denial was instant. “Impossible. The Empress has commanded you to head to the Northern Wall. You will obey.” She paused. “With that said, your words have some merit.”

The woman rubbed at the small of her back, in the exact place Yating knew the woman’s own brand lay. And it was no doubt burning at the thought of deviating from her master’s instructions.

“An Imperial Diplomatic team will be sent. With the war, travel is difficult though.” The tiger’s eyes flashed as she turned to Yating. “Four months. That is how long I estimate it will take for them to reach you. You have until then. After that, you will head to the breach to defend the Empire as we all swore to do.”

Yating’s brand burned.

“Of course. And I thank the Empress for her beneficence.”

“As well you should,” Murm snorted.

Then she disappeared.

Yating was once more alone on the mountain top, thunder crackling overhead.

And his brand burned.