Sexy Sect Babes: Chapter Twenty

As An once more came back to consciousness, it was with a bone deep satisfied ache. Her very core was humming in contentment. She smiled up at the dull grey ceiling above her. She’d often heard it said that without the regular stimulus of male chi, a woman’s humors could become unbalanced and negatively affect her cultivation.

She’d never personally given that idea much serious consideration. To her mind, it was the sort of pseudo-philosophy old sect leaders might spout when trying to convince their more modern contemporaries to return to the ‘good old days’.

When men were property to be bought and traded at will.

Thankfully, the Empire had outgrown those primitive notions – and while not quite truly egalitarian, men were free to live as they pleased. At least, as far as the law was concerned.

Still, as she stretched her arms above her head, she couldn’t help but wonder if there was some truth to the old bat’s words. She felt better than she had in months. As if a kink in her back had finally managed to work itself out.

Still maintaining that same satisfied smile, she moved to lift the sheets – hopefully without awakening the sleeping form of her master beside her. With any luck, she’d be able to get her morning cultivation in before-

Her hand recoiled as it brushed against something.

Something cold, wet and sticky.

Sitting up in surprise, she found her eyes widening as she took in a very unwelcome sight.

For one thing, the bed she and her master had made use of was done for. At some point during their ‘engagement’, the legs had exploded, leaving it on the ground. The sheets were likewise torn, and the mattress was leaking stuffing in a number of places.

Those damages were not what drew her eye though.

She was sharing her bed with a corpse.

For the amount of blood – and other liquids – staining the sheets could suggest nothing else. To her right, her beloved master lay sprawled on his stomach where he had collapsed, mere moments before herself. Across his back ran a series of bloody furloughs. Likewise, she could see bruises, blue, purple and yellowed spread across his body. Like great blotches, they gathered around his arms, back and hips.

Struggling mightily, An fought the urge to throw up as she realized what had happened.

“Oh Empress, I’ve killed him,” she whispered.

Her mother had warned her. Her aunts too. At length. Any male she met would likely be weaker than her. She would need to be gentle.

Avoid losing herself in her passions.

She’d ignored them all though. She’d assumed her master’s cultivation would protect him.

It hadn’t though. Why would it? The man had said himself, he was a crafter by nature, not a warrior?

What use would a crafter have for leather skin or iron bones? she thought.

Oh certainly, as a cultivator her master was and had been tougher than an ordinary man. That was evidenced by the fact that his
 body was more or less intact. Yet it had not protected him from her nails – and so he had been bled dry - with her playing the unwitting part of the hungry undead for which the town in which she now dwelled was named.

What was she going to do now!?

She needed to-

“Ugh.”

She stopped in the middle of
 she didn’t know what, but she never managed to do whatever that might have been as the corpse that was next to her proved to
 not be a corpse!

An froze in place as Master Johansen shifted and grunted, making a sound not entirely unlike a bear as he rolled over onto his side. She watched wide eyed as he reached for some manner of device from the side table, fumbling blindly as his arm failed to account for the change in elevation caused by the demise of the bed’s legs.

Slowly, cautiously, An leaned over him – not an easy feat given his impressive bulk relative to her own rather diminutive stature - to grab what he was clearly reaching for, pressing it softly into his grasping hands.

“Thanks.”

“What?” She’d jolted in surprise as the strange unknown word issued forth from her master. Then she shook her head. “Apologies, I mean pardon, master?”

“I said, thanks.” The man said sleepily, this time switching back into his thickly accented Imperial. “Christ, is the bed shorter than I remember.”

“I, uh, yes?” An responded. “Should
 should I get something to see to your wounds? Perhaps, Lady Ren?”

Part of her hated herself for broaching the topic. Another part of herself hated the other for hesitating. The man could hardly have failed to notice the state of his body. Nor who had caused it.

“Nah, I’m already handling it.” The man grunted as he finally opened his eyes, fingers deftly flitting across the device. “God almighty, I feel like I just went five rounds with a Martian Liger.”

An flushed behind him, having no idea what manner of creature a Martian Liger was, but guessing that it was a rather vicious beast, given her teacher’s
 injuries.

She took a deep breath. “I would like to start by apolo-”

The man raised his hand, stopping her instantly. She waited for the stinging words of censure that would no doubt issue from the man’s mouth. If she were lucky, she’d only face never having to grace his bed again. Most likely, she’d be banished from Jiangshi and her position as his student. If she were unlucky
 he’d demand her head


Fortunately, the only upside to that last one was that he was in no position to claim it
 hopefully. That would give her enough time to hopefully flee the area before he began his pursuit.

“It’s fine.”

An stopped, frozen in the act of tensing her muscles in preparation for either flight or a fight.

“Pardon?” she said.

“I said it’s fine,” the man repeated, still not looking at her as he played with his device. “I knew going into this that this might be one of the outcomes.”

Ah
 that was
 that was good?

“I mean. I’m just a crafter. You should have known I wasn’t as tough as one of your people. I don’t make myself tough. I put all my
 chi into my devices. Being a strange outlander and all.” The man continued hurriedly.

An dropped her head in shame. Every word he spoke was the truth.

“Fortunately, being a powerful cultivator in other areas, I can heal up these injuries pretty quickly, so don’t be thinking your dear old master’s been crippled by a little rough fun in the bedroom.”

“Of course, master.” An nodded. “This An is most thankful for your understanding.”

Truth be told, she was barely listening. She was just glad that she wasn’t about to be censured for her earlier
 rashness. She knew going forward that she would try to be more
 careful in future couplings.

She nearly jumped when less than a minute later, Lin walked in carrying a tray. The mortal ox girl had a wide smile on her face as she moved around the bed. “So you finally – oh my god!”

An flushed at the girl’s reaction to
 everything.

“What the hell happened to you!?” The woman continued. “Were you attacked!?”

“In a manner of speaking.” Her master deadpanned, before gesturing to the tray. “Questions can wait though. Food now.”

That seemed to take the wind out of the other woman’s sails – to An’s hidden relief. “Alright, I uh, followed the instructions you gave me, but this was all new. So don’t blame me if it turned out poorly.”

Master Johansen simply waved his hand dismissively, his focus entirely on the tray being placed into his waiting hands. “You’re absolved. Now go.”

Lin rolled her eyes, but did as instructed.

“You’re far too lenient with her.” An said as soon as the mortal girl had left the room.

She knew – for whatever reason – her master had taken a shine to the peasant girl. An also knew that the girl made the trip out to her master’s cave each morning to prepare him breakfast. And unlike the rumor mill, An knew that was literally what the girl did.

Just that.

Make breakfast.

An had checked. Repeatedly.

At her words, An’s master looked up at her for the first time since he’d woken up.

“Given the current state of my back, thighs and
 general everything, I think you, my dear student, are the last person who can accuse me of being too lenient.”

An averted her gaze in shame as once more her face flushed.

To her side, she heard a small sigh, before something small and square was placed onto her sheet covered lap. “Here, eat.”

Thankful for her master’s kindness – and the distraction food provided – she turned her gaze towards what the peasant girl had prepared.  However, rather than the rice porridge she had been expecting to see, she found that her lap was occupied by a plate full of round flat disks. The strange cake-like constructs were likewise topped with some manner of thick red sauce.

“Master, what are these?” she asked.

“Pancakes.” Her teacher said between mouthfuls of the substance. “Topped with syrup. And I’ll say that this syrup isn’t bad for being made from beets.”

An paused in the act of raising her fork.

“Beetroot?” she prompted. “This
 sauce is made from beetroot?”

Well, that would go some way to explaining the coloring


“Yep. Normally you’d use maple syrup, but given I’ve yet to encounter any maple trees in our immediate surroundings, I had to improvise. Hence, beet sugar.”

Yeah.

An did not know what a maple was. It was yet another strange foreign word. In this case though, she did not much care either.

Instead she plunged her knife into her pancake – her strange scallion-less pancake – and cut out a small piece. Ensuring it had a generous dousing of the beet syrup she brought it up to her mouth with her fork.

Sweet.

Those were her first thoughts as she bit into the surprisingly soft construction.

Her eyes widened as her hunger grew in response to the glorious textures and flavors exploding across her palate. Almost without conscious thought, her knife moved to cut out another generous portion of pancake. Even as she moved to plot another piece of the delicious confection into her mouth, she reminded herself that her master was a sage of some great knowledge.

Ignoring his
 physical weaknesses when bereft of his mystic tools, he held more wisdom within his pinky finger than this lowly Guo An did within her entire being. For how else had he managed to create such a delicious sugary substance from a ground root as lowly as the humble beetroot.

These pancakes would not be out of place if served at a banquet intended for sect leaders!


Though part of her wondered why he had served them for breakfast?

Reaching down, she moved to cut out another bite of the delicious snack, only to discover her plate was empty.

Glancing over, she could see her master was grinning at her.

“Hungry, eh?”

Feeling a little shamefaced at her show of gluttony, An could only nod.

“Should I call up Lin to make us another batch?”

She knew she shouldn’t. Surely this was some kind of test? As a cultivator, An was supposed to be above such worldly desires. Shows of hunger were surely proof of her subpar level of cultivation


She nodded.

“Please.”

----------

Jack had popped a few painkillers and was feeling surprisingly good as he stepped out into the morning Jiangshi sun.

He wasn’t dead. He’d gotten laid. An seemed none-the-wiser as to his total lack of chi
 or ki.


though, truth be told, was that all that surprising?

He’d been thinking about it, and his cover was actually a lot more secure than he’d originally thought. Hell, even Lin, who he’d told everything to, sometimes seemed skeptical. Or just downright confused.

And why wouldn’t she be? The truth was so far outside the normal realm of possibility for the natives, it was infinitely easier to believe he was just an odd cultivator.

Especially after I admitted to not being from around here, he thought.

He’d had to look at it from their perspective. Or convert it back to his own. Because back on Earth, the equivalent would be someone claiming they could do magic. At least prior to magic being proven to be a very real thing
 in other universes. Prior to that, if someone was doing strange shit, a normal person would be far more likely to attribute it to some kind of experimental technology - rather than magic.

Especially if you knew those feats could be mostly replicated with technology.

The same was true for here. His technology, lack of chi and weak body were far more likely to be considered part of some strange form of cultivation rather than


What, some dude from another planet? he thought.

So he’d come to a conclusion. He should be more confident.

If he acted like he had a secret he was trying to hide, people would start trying to find out what it was. So if he instead acted like he had nothing to hide, people would be far more likely to take the ‘obvious explanation’ at face value.

Ha, ‘face’.

He smiled at the mental joke, but that smile faded as he recalled the reason why he was making his way into town, when all he wanted to do was curl up into a ball and wait for his enhanced healing to finish the job it started last night.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t wait for that because a few minutes ago he’d gotten a call via radio from Jiangshi’s northern gates.

Some riders had been spotted making their way toward Jiangshi. At speed. That in and of itself wasn’t that odd. Jiangshi had been receiving a small but steady flow of refugees from other villages in the area from pretty much the moment Jack had arrived. Certainly, An’s group all those weeks ago had been the largest single intake, but Jack reckoned that the numbers the town had gained from smaller groups since then likely eclipsed that original bulk group.

Normally, the arrival of a few more people wouldn’t be worth bothering him about. In this case though, the lookout – who he was now cursing himself for not equipping with binoculars! – had reported that this incoming group of riders had looked ‘fancier’ than the usual band of half dead refugees. Significantly more organized too.

Given Jack was waiting on the arrival of this ‘Marble
 Something Sect’ Ren had warned him about, he’d decided to take no chances.

Which was why he was also fully armored and had An accompanying him as he made his way out to meet these incoming visitors. Likewise, Ren had been informed via messenger of the incoming arrivals - and would likely be waiting at the gates by the time he arrived.

Part of him was tempted to just fly there, but given these visitors might be cultivators – and Ren was far from obligated to aid him if this whole thing turned violent – he figured it was better to take the land route so An could keep up.

Of course, doing that meant he couldn’t just run there either. He hadn’t needed An to tell him that wouldn’t look good. He was the overseer of Jiangshi. A hidden master too. He needed to look dignified. Always in control. Because while flying could be as majestic as you wanted it to be, running would always look frantic.

So he had to walk.

No matter how much it grated on him.

If they are cultivators, they could already be causing trouble, he thought.

They were likely already at the northern gate. The lack of binoculars on his lookout’s part meant they hadn’t twigged onto the fact that the incoming band weren’t just another band of refugees until they were pretty close to the walls.

No, they aren’t, he reminded himself as he stepped through the western gate. Someone would be screaming into the radio if things had gotten violent. Hell, I’d be able to hear gunfire.

He waved at those few guards present who hadn’t immediately rushed to the northern gate ahead of him. Because mortals were allowed to rush around looking panicked. If anything, it was expected of them.

And they certainly looked panicked, hands clutching the weapons in their hands tightly as they gazed off toward the North. Jack almost felt guilty by how quickly they relaxed upon seeing him and his easy gait. It seemed they were drawing confidence from his own.

Which made him wonder just how panicked they’d be if they knew how much he was freaking out.

Well, there was nothing he could do about it. Nothing beyond continuing his painfully slow trek towards the northern gate. A trek that took him through a suspiciously quiet town. Either the rumors of the new arrivals had already spread, or the locals had picked up on the militia’s panic. Regardless, it seemed they’d done what peasants always did when some new form of danger rolled into town. They’d decided to lock their doors and hide in their homes until it passed.

Smart.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t do the smart thing. Instead, he continued walking, ignoring the way An’s grip on her glaive seemed to tighten with every step. Gone was the blushing girl from this morning. In her place was a seasoned warrior that was more than prepared for things to get violent. He could almost feel those violent intentions bubbling away just beneath the surface as they walked.

A sensation that only seemed to grow as the pair of them finally reached the Northern gate.

The scene that awaited Jack made his heart skip a beat. Strewn around the area were his people. Unmoving. On the ground. Weapons shattered or held in numb fingers. Kang himself lay against a wall, his head slumped forward.

He couldn’t tell if he – or any of his people - were alive or dead.

And in the center of it all stood, an unfamiliar group of people. Swathed in expensive looking black robes, a trio of what could only be cultivators stood across from a very tense looking Ren. The one on the left had goat eyes, but the other two had small horns peeking out from their shaggy black hair.

“Ah, the ‘hidden master’,” the goat-horned leader of the trio of women said as her eyes alighted upon him. “Lady Ren here was just telling this young mistress about you.”

Jack was barely listening, his gaze still panning across the many bodies strewn around the courtyard.

“Though I must say, if you truly are what you claim, you would do well to teach your lessers as to how to better behave around their betters.” The woman gestured to where Kang had fallen. “This peasant dared to impede this young mistresses’ path.”

Jack didn’t understand. He hadn’t heard any gunfire. Had
 had the militia all been taken down before they could fire a shot? How was that even possible!?

Ren moved to speak, still glaring at her opposite number. “And as this Lady Ren was just telling this young mistress of the Marble Cloud Sect, her display of violence does her no favors. She would be-”

“Stop.” Jack said, the speakers in his helmet allowing him to cut across the distance between them with ease.

Both women paused, surprise clear in both their features. Ren’s likely came from being interrupted. The other woman, he had no clue. Maybe because he had a man’s voice? They were rare after all. Maybe she hadn’t really believed he was a guy?

Not that he really cared about any of that. He had far more pressing question. “I’m sorry, you in the black, the talkative one, who did you say you were again?”

The goat horned woman flushed.

“Such ignorance! This young mistress is Lady Men, of the Marble-”

Jack shook his head. “Yeah, look, I don’t care about any of that. Min, was it?” He gestured around the courtyard. “You came here and attacked my people. Immediately?”

The goat woman’s scowl only grew, but she answered anyway. “They impeded my path.”

She made it sound obvious. And he supposed it was, from a cultivator’s perspective.

Still


“Right,” he acknowledged. “But you know who I am right? Or at least, what I claim to be. A hidden master. I know my people told you that when your thugs assaulted them.”

“Thugs!?” Men hissed. “Does your insolence know no bounds? You court death by insulting proud members of the Marble Cloud Sect with such monikers.”

Her glare redoubled and to his right Jack felt An physically recoil. Even Ren seemed to stiffen.


He didn’t see why.

Christ, chill out, he thought. Sure, goat-girl just made a pretty clear threat, but you don’t need to tense up like that. You’re making me look bad.

Maybe it was a cultural thing? It would certainly fit with just how
 dramatic cultivators were.

Maybe that was why his lack of reaction seemed to rattle the other cultivator. Was he throwing her off by not playing along? Like a foreigner not acknowledging a handshake?

He didn’t have time for that ridiculousness. “And you aren’t? I mean, you’re being pretty rude to a guy who might be a hidden master.”

Men scoffed. “I do not believe you to be a hidden master. No cultivator of any worth could stand to wallow in surroundings like these. The barren earth would make for a better home. No, I instead believe that you are a cultivator of small stature pretending to be greater than you are.”

Leaning over, one of the women near him whispered into her ear, and Men’s eyes turned contemplative. Cocking her head she regarded him. “Still, you are a male of at least middling talent. Perhaps my earlier judgment was premature. The Marble Sect may have a use for you.” She clapped her hands. “To that end, this young mistress shall forgive your trespass on Marble Sect Lands as well as your insults made in ignorance and allow you to serve in her entourage.” She nodded her head, as if the matter were decided. “You may thank me.”

Jack was barely following the conversation at this point. How many leaps in logic had this bitch just jumped through?

“If I’m not a hidden master, why are Ren and An so willing to acknowledge me?” he asked.

Men scoffed once more. “While this young mistress cannot speak for the bumpkin at your side, the ‘lady Ren’ is well known to her. She’s a soft hand. Weak on peasants and lower cultivators alike. To that end, she’s likely humoring you to get into your pants.”

For the first time since the conversation began, Men’s hand edged towards the sword at her waist, a move echoed by the other two women next to her.

“This young mistress is not so foolish as to allow a snake to continue to proclaim itself a dragon. No matter how pretty the scales. You shall accept her beneficence and repent your wrong doing or be dragged back to the Marble Cloud Sect in chains and disgrace.”

Jack was having none of this. “Alright - and I realize this is a stretch for you - what if I really were a hidden master?

The woman’s smile stiffened. “Then as a young mistress of the Marble Cloud Sect, I would apologize for my forthright words. And remind this hypothetical hidden master that as a daughter of said sect, any actions taken against her would be repaid in full. Positive or negative.” She shook her head. “Not that this young mistress expects that to be the case. Your ki is hidden. You also wear armor, a sure sign of a cultivator who lacks faith in his foundation.”

She regarded him. “No, as I said, you are a snake wearing the mantle of a dragon. And just this once, this young mistress is willing to forgive that – given the eccentricities of your gender. To that end, I would suggest you do not overly test her beneficence.”

“Right.” Jack nodded. “Very kind of you.”

The woman nodded, as if it were obvious.

“Counter proposal.” With a thought, he felt something in his palms hum to life. “Does the phrase ‘HEV, target unknown humanoids’ mean anything to you?”