Sexy Sect Babes Three: Chapter Thirty (Patreon)

Credit where credit was due, Murm reacted quickly.

Honestly, Jack probably wouldn’t have even perceived the claws that would have killed him were it not for a single lithe leg flicking up at the last moment, the bladed spur on the end perfectly positioned to intercept the sword that would have ended his life.

The miner did see the resulting explosion of sparks that came about from that strike, as two titanic forces clashed inches from his face, before one of those forces was blown backwards.

And it wasn’t Yating.

“Ugh,” Murm grunted as she slid to a stop a dozen meters away, her feet gouging deep furrows into the marble floor as she did.

The very air stilled, as if the entire planet was holding its breath.

Jack watched as the Rooster-God casually regained his footing, bouncing off the ground and onto his feet with a casual tap of his elbow against the floor.

“I… I feel strong?” The divinity murmured.

Another clang rang out, and Jack watched as Murm seemingly teleported from her former position to appear at Yating’s side, clawed gauntlets intercepted with almost causal disdain by a metal spur and a palm against the tiger’s wrist respectively.

It was not a comfortable looking position on Yating’s part, given that he had but a single limb on the ground and one leg extended at almost a ninety degree angle.

Yet the Rooster looked almost serene as his foe strained against him.

“I’d almost forgotten this feeling,” he murmured. “Not to have that parasite sucking at my core.”

The outstretched leg lashed out and once more Murm was sent skidding back.

“I mean, we didn’t have very long at all before the Carp came to us with her solution to our Human problem. Not by our standards at least.” The being snickered. “So young. So naïve. Somehow both terrified and yet utterly assured of our invincibility.”

The outstretched leg came down once more, the spurs at the end red hot and glowing from what Jack could only assume was friction.

The Tiger-Goddess snarled, the very air around her distorted by… something. “Blasphemer. Heretic. Traitor. Every breath you take now is an affront to the oaths we all swore. Rightful tribute stolen from a system that has protected us all for generations beyond counting.”

“Oaths sworn on a false premise,” Yating spat back, embers of rage entering his voice and posture for the first time since his… well, Jack supposed emancipation was a word for it. “To vanquish a foe long dead.”

The two divine beings glared at each other, before a third voice made itself known.

“…That’s not strictly true though, is it?”

Bhati.

The Ox-Goddess.

And she’d said those words from right in Jack’s ear.

Before he could move, fingers with the power to shatter steel gripped his neck from behind, lifting him to his feet. The motion was neither cruel nor forceful, but the threat was implicit as Jack found himself positioned between the Ox-woman and Yating like a human shield.

His elbow came back with surety that came from using the same move a thousand times, a lifetime of street brawls guiding his aim, backed up by synth-muscles capable of shattering stone into rubble with an errant twitch.

And as he suspected would happen, the woman behind him stopped the blow cold, with all the ease of a grown woman manhandling an unruly child.

“Enough of that now,” she whispered into his ear. “We wouldn’t want something as… fascinating as you to get unduly damaged now, would we?”

“Fuck you, bitch.” He hissed back.

The Ox actually tittered.

“Ah, I almost forgot how it feels to be insulted. How precocious.”

Yet even as she said the words, Jack felt the grip on his neck tighten, strong enough to bruise a normal man.

Oh, he had other options, but he wasn’t entirely sure he could access them before his spine got turned to powder.

Which meant he had to wait and hope things went well.

Should have gone for the retinal HUD upgrade, he thought as he glanced over toward his casually discarded helmet. Because I just know I’m going to fuck up the timing on my big moment now.

Sighing internally, he could only give Yating an apologetic glance as the God’s eyes flicked worriedly between him and the two loyalist goddesses.

“Really Bhati?” Yating breathed. “Your first chance at freedom in thousands of years, and you focus on what his species is.”

Despite himself, Jack’s eyes flitted towards the stands where his people were.

Or at least, most of them. The mortals in attendance seemed to have fainted, Huang included, which was something he’d likely attribute to the kind of passive killing intent that was likely being thrown around right now.

The air certainly had that funny heat haze distortion thing going on.

And while his people were trained for that sort of thing, there was apparently a limit.

A limit that seemed to have been surpassed just by being in the same general area as three gods having a pissing contest.

At least, I hope they’re only unconscious and not… dead, he thought.

Fortunately An and Shui were still standing on his side of the arena. They looked a little pale and unsteady, but they were definitely still standing. Hopefully they were mitigating the worst of the effects on his people.

He deliberately looked away though as An’s eyes caught his own.

The ox-woman holding his neck shrugged. “Freedom? Funny word.”

“A meaningful word.” Yating’s eyes narrowed.

“In that the meaning changes from person to person?” Bhati chuckled. “Freedom to the peasant is not the same as freedom to the lady. I am free. Within the roles of my station.”

“You can’t be serious!?” Yating’s frustration was audible. “We could be-”

“Dead.” Bhati’s tone lost all amusement. “Or worse. Because those were the fates that awaited us before the Empress saved us.”

“She deceived us!” A wave of force emanated from the rooster, kicking up dust in all directions around him. “Made herself into a great lake and us little more than tributaries.”

“Because none of you would have gone along with the plan if you’d known,” Murm muttered.

Yating’s gaze was incredulous as her eyes darted between the two. “You knew!? Both of you?”

The Ox cocked her head. “Honey, I’m the foremost seal-master in the Empire. I am the basis of every seal in the Empire. From the Wall to the Southernmost city gate. All of them are protected by my work.” She tapped at the small of her back. “Do you think the web that holds it all together would be any different?”

“The Warrior. The Architect. And the Mother.” Murm said the words like they were some kind of holy writ. “Each of us had a role, and we gave ourselves unto it fully. For the good of our people. A concept you and yours have never understood.”

“Mou, if only our Visionary hadn’t gotten cold feet,” Bhati sighed.

“T-The Monkey?”

“It was her plan,” Murm muttered resentfully. “Until she decided she had a better one.”

Jack saw it, the moment Yating snapped. The Rooster roared and for just a moment, the miner feared the god would attack – spearing through the miner’s own body to do so if needed.

Fortunately, the moment the Ox raised the mortal man up like a shield, the god hesitated.

“Ah, I was right, this one does hold some sentimental value to you.” Bhati tittered. “For a moment there I feared I had miscalculated.”

Yating grit his teeth, waves of force emanating out from him, causing yet more cracks to form in the marble flooring. Honestly, at this point, Jack had no idea how the entire structure hadn’t come down. It was built to be tough, given that it was supposed to be an arena, but it wasn’t built god-tough.

Murm strode forward, cautiously. “The peace we fought so hard to forge is unraveling because of the weakness of you and yours. I will not allow another knot to come undone right under my nose. So, you will be coming with us. You will be rebranded. And you will explain what in the Creator’s name that… thing is.”

The spur on Yating’s foot came up with unerring stillness, stopping Murm in her tracks as it aimed directly at her.

“Or what?” The man asked. “Because I’m rather liking my odds against you or her. While there are things about the brand I apparently didn’t know, I know for a fact you two still have one. I felt it. I can still feel it. Sapping your strength to feed that gluttonous carp.”

“Or we’ll kill your pet.” Bhati smiled. “Because for all that I’m curious about it.” Jack grunted as the grip on his neck tightened to the point that he could hear the metal around his bones squealing. “I’ll not put my life’s work at risk to satiate that curiosity.”

Yating frowned, even as Murm smirked. “See? That’s the difference between us and you. For all your claims to being better than the animals you once were, at your core, you’re little more than Instinctives. Beholden to nothing more than your own wants and needs.”

Bhati stopped squeezing just as spots started to form in Jack’s vision. “To reach the next stage of Reasoned cultivation, one must embrace law. Not just of the land around them but inside themselves. Totally. Utterly.”

Yating’s glare continued, but there was no missing the tensing of the muscles in his thighs.

Shit, he’s about to move, Jack thought frantically. He’s already written me off!

A laugh broke out amongst the gathering of gods, and to everyone’s surprise it hadn’t come from the Laughing God.

“I think you two are bargaining with bad chips,” Jack laughed, wiping a tear from his eye. “Because Yating’s selfish, just like you said. She might feel a little guilty for abandoning me, but she’ll do it in a second, because I’ve already given her what she wanted. This entire rebellion was about spiting your Empress and attaining her freedom.”

It really wasn’t hard to figure out. At least, it hadn’t been after Jack figured out that Yating had something that forced him to stay here. Otherwise, a person as curious as him would never have stayed on just one continent. That, combined with the guy’s reaction to Jack’s explosive subdermal charges, told the miner pretty much everything he needed to know.

“I could have freed her at any point. I didn’t though, because I needed her. And I knew that the second I got rid of that brand, she wouldn’t need me any more- and she’d leave me and mine to die while she gallivanted off to do whatever the fuck she wanted.”

It was actually a little amusing, the look of both shame and frustration that bubbled across the god’s face at his words. That Jack could have freed him from his torment. That Yating would have run if he could.

“I’d have at least felt a little guilty about it,” the god shrugged with a small smile. “Might have even stuck around until the end. Or at least, seen you to safety.”

“Maybe.” Jack smiled back through bloody teeth. “It’s fine though. It’d be pretty hypocritical of me to complain about you being selfish.”

Given that Jack was the embodiment of the word. Everything he’d done since arriving in this world had been in the name of enriching himself and ensuring his own autonomy.

And he hadn’t cared how many people had needed to die for that to happen. Sure, he’d tried his best to do right by those people who came under his sway – but ultimately, he knew he’d spend those lives to secure his own.

He’d deceived both his allies and enemies. Had people die for a false cause. Made promises he could never keep, implicit and explicit.

Even now his confession was entirely in the name of buying time.

How could he judge someone else for doing the same?

“So you’re worthless to us?” Murm grunted. “You human… thing.”

There was no missing the animosity there. Yating had once said Jack made him uncomfortable. That he felt ‘unnatural’. And he had little doubt Murm had a pretty low opinion of humans to begin with. She’d fought an entire war against them after all.

Yeah, she wants to kill me, he thought.

Unfortunately, he still needed a little more time. Thinking frantically, he was surprised when an interruption came from an unexpected source.

“Please, Ladies Murm and Bhati, this lowly inquisitor begs that you reconsider ending this… unworthy imposter’s life.”

Shi, of all people, was bowing deeply, her head touching the very stones of the arena as she pleaded with the two gods.

Murm’s gaze was indecipherable as she regarded the Inquisitor, the goddess still tensed for combat.

“Why?”

The words were simple and no nonsense, but they demanded an immediate answer.

An answer Shi gladly gave. “As much as it pains this lowly one to say it, this imposter is what the Empire needs. His strength may be false, but his achievements are not.”

“Achievements?” Murm scoffed. “It was clearly Yating that slew the Red Death before propping up this ‘fake’ divinity to force us to step carefully. Though from where it came, I know not.”

Behind him, Bhati shifted slightly as Shi’s head remained firmly pressed to the floor. “Perhaps. Its lackluster showing here today would encourage that belief.” Despite himself, Jack felt a little offended by that. Even if it was true. The lackluster part at least. “Yet what of his other accomplishments?”

Murm cocked her head, though Bhati was quicker to catch on. “This arena. The nearby fortress. Those strange weapons the mortals held. Powerful enough to allow a… mortal to defeat a low level cultivator.”

“Just so, Divine Blacksmith.” Relief was audible in her tone. “Those could not be the work of the Laughing God. Her skills are known and they do not extend towards the creation of things. Her failures on that front are as fables for children.”

It was all Jack could do not to laugh hysterically as, despite the circumstances, the Laughing God in question actually clicked his tongue in irritation.

“While the Empire has need of swords and ki now more than ever, it sorely needs craftsmen and builders even moreso. The Empire bleeds each day as beasts make chattel of her people, yet do you see that happening here? Amongst these lands?”

Jack didn’t like the way Bhati turned him towards her, her gaze contemplative, even as Murm scoffed. “Those things are the work of this… creature’s master. Not the puppet itself. I know not where they hide, but they shall be rooted from the province in time.”

“Perhaps,” Bhati allowed. “Perhaps not. There is much here I do not understand. All conventional wisdom tells me this creature could not accomplish those things. Yet that same wisdom tells me it should be dead.”

Jack grunted as the woman shook him slightly, like a child shaking an animal to draw a response. “Yet here it is, alive to every sense of mine beyond my most important.”

Her gaze turned toward her comrade. “If young Shi’s words are truth… can we take the risk? When the solution to one of our most looming problems lies before us?”

“I think that Yating won’t let us take her toy, and thus it is a moot question.” Murm growled. “She is the most valuable resource here – and when we clash, it shall die in the fighting.”

“I-”

Jack saw it. On the horizon. Bhati did too.

“I think you’re all counting your chickens before they’ve hatched. No offense Yating.”

In response, both god and goddess gave him a perplexed glance, but not Bhati.

Her gaze was on the black speck that only continued to grow with time.

“What is that?” Her words were simple and to the point. “Tell me now or die.”

Jack just laughed, relief pervading his every pore.

“Kill me and we’ll all die screaming before long.”

Murm scoffed. “A bluff.”

Her heart wasn’t in it though. And Jack knew why. For much the same reason he’d not even tried to lie since they’d shown up.

Yating could always tell when he was lying. Even through his body language or just listening to the rush of his blood in his veins, the god had always been able to tell when Jack lied.

And the miner didn’t doubt both Murm and Bhating had the same ability.

“We both know that’s rather pointless,” he said. “So I’ll just hit you with the truth.”

And a few thousand tons of explosives, he thought.

Because that was when the End-Game hit a distant mountain at Mach Three. A large one, perfectly positioned to provide maximum visual impact to someone a safe distance away.

Which required a considerable amount of distance given the sheer explosive payload the machine was carrying.

The Dutchman – the machine that killed the Red Death – had been loaded with important cargo, some of which had happened to be explosive.

The End-Game suffered from no such limitation.

They’ll probably be suffering from shattered windows across the entire province, Jack thought as the blast wave ripped across the intervening terrain between them like a great wave.

The sound was deafening – and more than one cultivator flinched as it ripped over them.

And in the distance, where once a serene and mighty mountain stood, well now there wasn’t.

“There’s probably just a crater there now,” he murmured as the sound finally faded.

His little impromptu demonstration hadn’t quite had the fanfare he’d been after – given that he’d intended for it to serve as a warning as the Imperial Envoy were leaving – but that didn’t mean it hadn’t been effective.

Indeed, as he stood up, he realized that Bhati had actually lost her grip on him, as she stared in open mouthed horror at the distant ash cloud.

“Because, as much as you all seem to want to believe that I’m powerless because I lack magical powers,” he reached down to pick up his discarded helmet, wiping away a little blood on it as he did. “I think that little show of force demonstrates I’m not.”

Bhati recovered, grabbing him and physically lifting him into the air, the front of his armor crumpling like paper as her fingers dug into it.

“Is that supposed to scare us?” She hissed. Wide eyed. Gone was the calm ‘researcher’ persona she’d had once before. “Whatever that thing was, it was slow to maneuver. It took time to summon. And we will not stand idly by like a mountain to be demolished.”

Her finger dug into his wound, snapping another rib. “If you meant to threaten a god, I shall remind you that you are but flesh and easily torn asunder.”

Jack just smiled, even as he wanted to cry out in agony. “And your cities are but stone, and equally as bad at dodging as mountains.”

She dropped him. “We have many cities. How many of those… things do you have?”

“Just two.” He said casually, inspected the latest damage to his armor. “And I just used one of those in this demonstration.”

Bhati laughed, relief flooding through her. “You mean to threaten us into retreat with but a single destroyed city? Even the loss of the Imperial Capital could not prompt me to retreat this day.”

Jack just shrugged. “Perhaps. But how about all of them? Every city? And every man, woman and child in the Empire? Because last I checked, you’ve only got one wall. And you’re struggling to hold one breach in it.”

He placed his helmet over his head, allowing the machine’s speakers to carry his distorted voice clear across the arena.

“Because last I checked, your walls are just as bad at dodging as your cities.”

“You’d allow the Instinctive hordes to triumph!?” Murm hissed. “Use them as a weapon? Consign an entire Empire of men, women and children to death if the alternative was defeat!?”

Bhati said nothing. Pale skinned, the goddess had taken a step back, her eyes wide as if only just seeing him for the first time. Even Yating was looking askance at him.

The stands were totally silent, the audience waiting with bated breath.

In response, inside his helmet, Jack mouthed that his favorite color was blue.

Outside, his speakers calmly repeated one of many pre-recorded responses. “Of course. In a heartbeat.”