Jack had exactly half a second to celebrate successfully sneaking up on a superhuman as he angled up towards the sky with his struggling cargo pressed against his chest - before she elbowed him with enough force that he felt it through the suit and he dropped her.
To be fair, sneaking up on her was a fairly impressive feat, given that she could likely hear a gnat fart. And he was wearing rocket boots which, while many things, were not quiet. Hence the warning sirens. The loud shrieking of the town’s automated alarm system had acted as perfect auditory camouflage for his approach.
For all the good it did me, he thought.
The problem with cultivators had always been catching them. Once he had them… well, his suit was strong enough to break their particular brand of bullshit.
Or at least, that had been the case.
She was strong. Stronger than any cultivator he’d ever personally grappled with. She’d managed to break his exo-empowered grip on her with almost contemptuous ease.
Capturing her was not going to be quite as easy as he’d hoped.
Guess we’re going with Plan B, he thought.
Blinking away stars from the Inquisitor’s unexpected blow, he watched as she skidded to a stop in a street below. Shaking his head, he pursued, hitting the concrete with enough force to leave a spiderweb of cracks behind as he turned to face her.
“What are you!?” The woman asked warily, eying him as she leveled her blade in his direction, clearly ready to attack again.
Fortunately, Jack had already summoned his microbots, letting them flow out of null-space like the tendrils of some manner of dark god. It was a move they’d practiced, and it had the desired effect as his opponent went from preparing to attack at a moment’s notice to taking a wary half step back in response to the chittering black mass of… something.
Though even then, it was clear she wasn’t afraid. Merely assessing.
Jack regarded her in turn.
“He’s the man who rules this patch of dirt,” Shui grunted as she landed next to him, her maces still out and ready. “Jack Johansen. Divinity Slayer.”
“That’s a man? There’s something… living in there?”
Shui just chuckled. “That’s your response? This is the man who slew a divinity, and you focus on the fact that he can hide his ki? Are you really that unnerved you can’t sense him?”
The Inquisitor’s eyes narrowed. “You’ll forgive me for being dubious. I am after all, far from a divinity, yet his attack left me quite unharmed.”
A minor wince gave away that statement for the lie it was. Superhuman or not, Jack’s suit was not light and he’d hit her hard. Still, she wasn’t entirely wrong. The miner couldn’t imagine this woman – or anyone - walking away from one of Yating’s or the Red Death’s love taps.
Fortunately, Jack had a perfect excuse.
“You think that was an attack?” His voice echoed off the nearby walls, making the Inquisitor twitch. “Do not make me laugh. You said it yourself. You’re a diplomat, here to negotiate for your wyrm of a mother. That little tap was merely an expression of my… irritation at your refusal to present yourself properly.”
He raised his left hand, letting sparks crackle off the emitters there. “Had I wanted you dead, you would have met the same fate as the other ‘spies’ in my domain.”
Which was actually true.
The other spies had all been successfully taken out by the placement of a rather large amount of explosives into the rooms beneath their hotel rooms.
A feat that had been surprisingly easy to pull off.
He supposed it helped that those delivering the explosives had no idea what they were delivering. Which meant there had been no killing intent for the enemy to sense.
If they even could sense it from a mortal, he thought.
…He liked to think he was getting the hang of this whole… killing cultivators thing.
From there it hadn’t been too hard to remove the staff from the blast zone by virtue of a few whispered words about a meeting.
In the basement.
They would need to be dug out again, of course, but that beat being splattered across the landscape as collateral.
Glancing at the nearby home, he could only hope that the occupants had been wise enough to imitate the hotel staff. Fortress Five had, naturally, been built as a fortress town. To that end, all the buildings had basements. Sturdy basements. And the residents were expected to make use of them if the sirens went off.
And he could only hope that protection proved adequate as the skies above literally started to blacken with thunderclouds.
“How gracious of you.” Shui spoke with surprising calm, as if he hadn’t just murdered her people and sucker punched her. “Just as it was gracious of you to arrive to meet me yourself rather than sending an underling. How proactive.” She paused, a single delicate finger coming up to tap her chin. “Now if only you had been gracious enough not to attack me from stealth, so I might better observe your technique. It is after all, not often one gets to see the skills of an immortal up close.”
“Stealth?” Jack cocked his head, before flared his jets with just enough force to make noise without giving him lift. “My techniques are many things, but hardly stealthy. Are the cultivators of the Empire so weak as to require their enemy call out their attacks in advance?”
Shi simply nodded. “So you are an outsider. Here to profit in the Empire’s moment of weakness.”
There was no judgement there. It seemed that now that she’d had a moment to compose herself, she was feeling more analytical.
Well, let’s see how long that lasts, Jack thought.
He made a so-so gesture with his hand, one he knew translated to the locals. “More like save those I can from the incompetence of your leadership.”
Shi’s smile turned decidedly plastic at those words. “Well then, I suppose if we are both allowed to air our grievances physically, you will not complain if this young mistress announces her own displeasure at your unlawful annexing of Imperial territory – and subjects?”
Jack snorted, even as he was inwardly glad that Shui – and wasn’t her name annoying close to Shi? – moved to stand in front of him. “I killed the Red Death.” He murmured. “You are not capable of airing your grievances upon me.”
Was she calling his bluff? Was she more confident because he was male, or was she genuinely taking refuge in the notion that he said he wouldn’t kill her because of her title?
A sentiment that wasn’t untrue. Ignoring all other things, she was a diplomat. And while it might buy him and his people more time if she were to disappear, it likely wouldn’t buy him more than if he dragged out the negotiations.
Something that would be a lot easier to do if he kept the woman across from him as a ‘guest’.
The dragon-kin smiled. “Then I consider this an excellent opportunity to exchange pointers. For I find myself curious as to the techniques of a foreign divinity. Please, enlighten this lowly Imperial Servant as to the skills that felled the Red Death.”
The calmness with which she prepared to fight was a reminder that violence was as much a form of communication in the Empire as talking. To that end, diplomats weren’t skilled combatants for nothing. They were a physical embodiment of the entities they represented.
Not unlike an old school champion.
To that end, a duel prior to actual talks was not abnormal at all, merely a way for one side to gain an upper hand against the other through a show of force.
Honestly, it reminded Jack of home. The gangs he’d run with had operated in much the same way.
To that end, he considered summoning his ‘dragon armor’ as a show of intimidation before deciding against it.
After all, he hadn’t flown Shui halfway across the province in the middle of the night not to use her as a shield against the long-term consequences of his actions.
“You’re a thousand years too early for that,” the woman in question murmured as she stepped forward, muscles rippling across her form as she grinned with all outward signs of enthusiasm. “Fortunately, I am quite happy to trade pointers with a member of the Inquisition in my lord’s place.”
Jack watched her stalk forward.
“…Don’t kill her,” he said quietly. “We need her alive. Just sufficiently humbled.”
The pig-kin just grunted, her focus entirely on her opponent – around whom lightning was beginning to crackle.
Then he watched both women move.
-----------------
Shi felt the window behind her burst into a shower of splinters as she crashed backwards into some kind of bakery.
Strong, she thought, vibrations running up her arm from her weapon from their initial clash.
Fast too, she thought as the pig-kin crashed through the smoke to land neatly inside the structure, kicking aside a table as her mace stabbed towards the Inquisitor’s face.
Shi was fast too though - and ready for it.
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She watched with some satisfaction as her opponent’s eyes widened at the sight of their hulking weapon being casually batted aside with the back of Shi’s bandage-covered hand. A nearby wall shattered as the hulk of metal slammed into it, giving the dragon-kin the opening she needed to slice out with her sword.
Blood sprayed through the air as the blade slid across the pig-kin’s cheek, narrowly avoiding going deeper as the other woman leaned back at the last possible moment.
Though she had to abandon her weapon to do so, and the weapon remained lodged in the wall as the traitor darted backwards.
“Iron skin,” Shui grunted as she wiped at the cut on her face with her now free hand. “Or something like it.”
Shi smirked, choosing not to mention the mystical properties of the bandages on her hand. “Something like that.”
For while it was true that her cultivation had some superficial commonalities with Iron Skin, it wasn’t.
Iron Skin did not allow one to fly or wield lightning. Those notions were anathema to that style of cultivation, given its origins in earth-based techniques.
No, her technique was something entirely new.
As evidenced by the way a single hand movement had her foe’s discarded mace flying into her hand.
“Heavy,” Shi murmured. “It’s no wonder you’re so… misshapen, lugging this thing around.”
Rather than be alarmed at being disarmed, the pig just grinned. “Some guys prefer a gal with some muscle on her.”
Then she threw a table at Shi.
A wooden table.
Scowling, the dragon-kin lashed out with her new weapon, shattering the piece of furniture before it struck her. Naturally, she’d expected her opponent to use that opening to approach, but as she regained sight on her foe, she found that the woman hadn’t done that at all.
She grunted as sparks flew off the invisible shield inches from her skin, a small pellet of metal bouncing off it as she unconsciously flinched.
The other cultivator had a firework launcher.
Which she discarded without a care to launch forward – having used the surprise of her weapon as the real distraction – to drive a giant meaty fist into Shi’s gut with enough power to drive the air from her lungs.
The Inquisitor’s technique provided no protection against the flesh of another after all.
“Definitely not Iron Skin,” she blearily heard the other woman mutter as Shi was once more flung backwards – through a wall this time.
Which hurt. Because the pig was right. She didn’t have Iron Skin.
Blearily blinking as she regained her feet and breath, she saw that she was now in the bakery’s ‘kitchen’.
She smiled.
Glancing down, she realized that she’d dropped her newly acquired mace at some point – likely when she was driven through the wall – but she still had her sword.
“I’ve got to wonder, if you don’t have Iron Skin, how did you make that bolt spark off you?” The oversized thug asked as she clambered through the hole Shi had just made.
The pig-kin had also retrieved her mace at some point.
“The strength of an Imperial Scion lies in her comprehension of her Dao,” Shi laughed, launching forwards to lock weapons with the other woman. “And her creativity with its use.”
The other woman was stronger than her physically, and was just starting to push her back through sheer power when Shi let loose with her lightning. The pig-kin screamed as lighting flowed through their weapons into her flesh.
Shi’s smile was all teeth as the room filled with the smell of burning flesh and hair. Such was the fate of all traitors.
“Guk!”
Though that smile quickly diminished as a massive hand settled around her throat and slammed her into the back wall.
The other woman’s gaze stared down into her eyes, a rictus grin on her convulsing features as the pig-kin started to choke the Imperial Scion even as her body rebelled against her.
“You forget that I used to be your sister’s rival,” Shui slurred. “I’m used to a little lightning.”
Shi’s eyes bugged out as she struggled for breath – or to break her opponent’s grip – but it was like trying to push off a mountain. She couldn’t even angle her sword to stab the other woman with their weapons crushed between them.
Desperately, Shi pushed more power into her technique, and though she felt her opponent’s arm shiver… it did not move.
Blood was dribbling from her opponent’s lips, but her gaze remained as steadfast as ever as she continued to choke the Imperial Scion.
“To be honest, I expected more from the vaunted Imperial Inquisition.” The pig-kin’s words were barely audible, given the slurring of her voice.
The corners of Shi’s vision started to go black.
Which was when she struck – in the moment she was sure her opponent thought she’d won.
And was at her most vulnerable.
The Inquisitor reached out with her ki and pulled.
Six wet thuds happened instantly.
And finally, Shi could breathe once more, the grip on her throat loosening as the mountain of a woman across from her sagged.
So it was that with an almost contemptuous flick, that the Imperial Scion idly pushed the other woman back, letting the pig-kin fall.
And in doing so, barely avoiding driving the six kitchen knives in her back deeper into her as she fell to the side. Or perhaps chose to fall that way.
She was still conscious after all, as Shi heard a wet shuddering gasp issue forth from the no doubt dying cultivator.
It seemed Shi still needed to work on her aim when using her technique.
Still, an oversight easily rectified, the blonde thought as she raised her sword, relishing the look of defiant anger that flashed in the traitor’s eyes as she gurgled… something from her prone position.
The blade started to come down-
“Alright, stop there.” A masculine voice called. “You’ve won.”
Shi paused, regarding the ‘Divinity’ who now stood in the ruined entrance of the bakery – three dozen guards on the street behind him.
Not that Shi spared any of her attention for them. Her gaze was entirely on the divinity.
Assuming that’s what he actually is, she mused.
Her being unable to feel his ki made it hard to tell. Though the fact that he could hide it from a member of the Inquisition spoke of an incredible level of control. Even when she strained her senses to the limit, all she received was the vaguest hint of… something metallic.
Still, she’d err on the side of caution. Until she received confirmation that she wasn’t dealing with a divinity, she’d treat him as if he were.
Which was… inconvenient.
Him being male was a surprise. One that changed things. Slightly.
It certainly made his capture more important than ever. For all her blasphemies, the Arch-Traitor had certainly proven the value of having a male divinity on hand with her Heralds.
The Empire would benefit much from the cultivation of a similar caste of warriors.
And while some other scion might rankle at the idea of cultivating a replacement for themselves, Shi was nothing if not loyal to the Throne.
For the Empire, she would gladly drive a dagger through her own heart.
“And why would I do that?” she asked, hating how raspy her voice was from her recent choking. “As you said, I’ve won. It is my right to deal with my opponent as I wish.”
For though she dealt with a divinity, this was a duel.
While the Empire might make allowances in all other things, a duel was sacred. Even traitors understood that much.
“Do you intend to interfere with that?”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” The man drawled. “I am merely making you an offer in return for my subordinate’s life. Let her live, and I’ll let you leave.”
“You think you could stop me?” she asked.
If he were a divinity, he could. Easily.
Still, it was not lost on her that he was wearing armor.
Metal armor.
For while the distance between them would be akin to heaven and earth, with the right alignment of the stars, even the frog might leap over the moon.
And that was assuming he really was a divinity.
“Easily.” Johansen responded. “Though I needn’t have to.”
He raised a hand and three dozen firework launchers were aimed in her direction.
“I have people for that kind of thing.” He cocked his head. “And while I saw you bounce a shot off your forehead earlier, I can’t help but wonder how many times you’d be able to repeat that feat? Twice? Three times? A dozen?”
Three times. That was Shi’s best estimate of her capacity.
Would she be able to kill the woman beneath her and escape out from this bakery and into the skies before she was hit three times?
Maybe.
It was far from a guarantee though.
And it assumes this man really isn’t a divinity, she thought.
Even if he wasn’t, he would still be a powerful cultivator.
She sighed, lowering her blade.
“It seems you live to see another day, traitor.”
The pig-kin glared up at her, still defiant even at death’s door. A feat that would have been respectable on an Imperial servant. As it was, it just irritated the Inquisitor.
Such a waste, she thought.
Stepping out from the rubble of the bakery, she kept a wary eye on the Outlander and his guards, but none moved to stop her.
Ascending into the air on crackling wings, she eyed him.
“You caught me off guard this time, Outlander, but I shall return. And I bring the might of the Empire with me.” She gestured to where the pig-kin lay. “I would suggest that if you do not wish to end up in a similar state as your pet, you reconsider your stance in regards to my Mother.”
She ascended higher.
“Your crimes are great, but the punishment for them need not be so heavy. Intentionally or not, you have provided the Empire a service in destroying the Red Death. For that reason we offer you a choice. Join us or die.”
With her bit said, she darted off into the night sky.
-----------------------
Shit, Jack thought as he watched a great source of both information and leverage disappear into the distance.
Even after they’d set the board in their favor, they’d failed to capture her.
“Cultivators are bullshit,” he murmured quietly as he watched a local doctor rush over to Shui.
They wouldn’t get another opportunity like that.
This ‘Inquisitor’ had exposed herself by entering his territory as a spy. In the parlance of the locals, even as a diplomat, by acting ‘underhandedly’, she’d left herself open to being treated underhandedly.
Or at least, that was how Ren explained it.
Their next meeting would likely be in an open field though, which meant everyone needed to behave ‘properly’.
Which meant no taking hostages.
“Fuck!” he grunted.
Walking over to Shui, he was glad to see that she was still conscious, and while she had the doctor fussing over her, she’d still managed to lever herself upright.
Perhaps not the best move, but he figured that if anyone was going to shrug off being electrocuted and stabbed six times, it would be Shui.
It was also clear she was equally frustrated with her loss.
On the ride over here, she’d made no bones about the fact that she saw this a fast road to ‘redeeming herself’ in his eyes.
Personally, Jack didn’t need it. She had an explosive chip in her skull. That was all the proof of loyalty he needed from her.
More than that, he’d seen the progress she’d been making in clearing out the Northern pass of Instinctive tribes, in preparation for constructing a fortress there.
Casualties had been light. Not just amongst the cultivators, but the mortals as well. Which was not something that one could often say when discussing any engagement led by a cultivator.
Let alone one being forced to use new weapons and tactics.
But Shui had not only adapted, she seemed to be outright thriving.
Gao might actually have some competition at this rate, Jack thought idly. Assuming she lives.
Slowly, he went over to pick up Shui’s revolver. Flicking it open, he was pleased to see she’d only fired a single shot. Just like he’d asked.
“How was she?” he asked, not entirely sure she’d be able to answer, but willing to try.
He needn’t have worried. Eying him, the woman spat a globule of blood to the side. “Odd. She had some kind of shield that only worked on weapons.”
“Weapons?”
“Aye. My fists and a table, of all things, seemed to give her trouble. She also felt it when I slammed her through a wall. Practically ignored that gonne and my mace though.”
Jack hummed as Shui continued.
“Lightning aligned, as we expected, but she could also move shit with her mind.”
She needn’t elaborate. Jack doubted Shui let herself be stabbed six different times in the back. It had clearly happened all at once.
He was also seeing the commonality of all the things Shui just mentioned. Because he might have been a dumbass, but even he knew what an electromagnet was.
“Think you can brief An and Huang when they arrive?”
“Aye.” The woman grunted as a knife was pulled from her back by the doctor before it was rapidly bandaged. “I can do that. Though I might have won if you’d given me leave to try out a few new toys. Or at least use the one I had properly.”
Jack shrugged as best he could within his armor. “Maybe. But for now I’d prefer to keep our aces for the real fight.”
The pig shook her head. “She’ll have some idea what we can do already. The Inquisition is arrogant as all hell, but they aren’t dumb. Nor are they bad at their jobs. I saw that gonne sticking out of her pack.”
Jack shook his head. “A little information can be more dangerous than none at all. With any luck, she’ll think that’s all we can do. And we’ve got much more than a few gonnes we can throw her way when she comes back.”
Sometimes you’ve got to lose a battle to win a war, he thought.
…Or at least, that was the logic Jack was using to justify their almost total defeat here.
Still, that was one of the Empire’s heavy hitters, he mused. They’re certainly built different from the provincials. I barely even saw Shui and her move. The fight was over before I knew it.
He knew he wouldn’t have lasted a minute against either of them. Even if he pulled out his dragon-suit.
It was honestly quite terrifying. And a reminder that he’d basically reached the limit of what he could achieve with his suit. Even with the microbots helping.
Against a high enough level cultivator they were just… insufficient.
And that bitch is still way weaker than a Divinity.
It was infuriating.
The more he wracked his brain, the more he realized that he had no idea how to deal with them. The Red Death had been a fluke in pretty much all ways. A confluence of favorable circumstances.
Honestly, he’d had no idea how lucky he was at the time.
Which in turn begged the question, how the fuck did one win against something like that?
…He honestly didn’t have an answer.