It was somewhat amusing, the look of shocked incomprehension that swept over the face of every guard present.

By contrast, the civilians in the nearby streets were much faster on the uptake. They’d started fleeing before the final echoes of the walker’s cannon had stopped bouncing off the nearest building. Jack idly hoped that no one got trampled in the mad dash. He’d not really thought that part of this particular plan through.

Well, nothing for it now, he thought.

Yet even as shrieks and cries rang out from behind him, the Sect Guards refused to raise their guns. Now that the shock had worn off, they looked torn with indecision.

Glancing over at Ren, he couldn’t help but note the proud smirk on her face.

“I told you, master.” She grinned. “You walk too softly. Own your power and shake the world with your strides and the weak dare not stand against you.”

An scoffed. “It helps that these idiots aren’t part of the Crimson Guard. And I doubt this is the first colorful entrance they will have been forced to let go unchallenged.”

Jack just nodded as he continued advancing up the steps, An and Ren following after him. His bodyguards and the crawler stayed behind. He wanted to make this look like a bombastic and angry entrance – not like a second coup.

As he reached the now ruined set of double doors, he heard just the slightest click from nearby. Followed by others. A few of the nearest Sect Guards had primed their guns, though the barrels of said weapons remained conspicuously pointed at the ground.

“Huh, it seems the presence of your weapons have grown the audacity of these mortals threefold,” Ren commented idly – though he couldn’t help but note that her hand was now hovering just slightly over her sword.

An too had her hands hovering over the two revolvers she now kept at her belt, rather than the glaive she had strapped to her back.

Jack sighed.

A shootout had always been a possibility no matter what Ren said on the matter.

“The first person to try to shoot me with one of my own guns,” he said calmly, his suit allowing his voice to be projected across the palace courtyard, “will be forced to eat it. Stock first. No soy sauce.”

He tried not to smirk as the ox-kin nearest to him paled and took a small step back.

Which was good. That had not been an idle threat. Sure, it would have sucked to be forced to carry it out on some poor sap who was just doing his job, but those were the breaks. He’d already been forced to kill a lot of people who, in all honesty, probably didn’t deserve it. A few more wouldn’t weigh on his conscience unduly.

“Come on,” he muttered. “We’ve got a meeting to attend.”

With that said, he swept through the ruined double doors and into the interior of the palace.

The scene that greeted him there was about what he had expected.

The crowd of courtiers he’d grown accustomed to seeing swanning about the place were clustered into groups based on what he could only assume were political allegiances, going by the color schemes. All of them were armed, having produced concealed weapons from the voluminous folds of their somewhat ridiculous outfits.

And while his cannonball shot had made a rather substantial mess of one the palace’s marble pillars, the only injury he could see was a rather unfortunate young man with a shard of door sticking out of his shoulder.

Punch wizards, he thought with a shake of his head.

Hell, he figured the only reason the young man had caught an errant shard rather than dodging like his female peers was likely because the young fop had never actually been in a fight in his life.

So he assumed. He could be wrong. But looking at the guy as he whined over what was essentially a large splinter to somewhere that definitely wasn’t vital – while he had an entire hoard of women fussing over him – he figured his guess was more likely to be correct than not.

Beyond that young man though, every eye in the room had tracked to him as he entered – and he didn’t imagine the subtle intake of air as they did.

He ignored it all, striding through the crowd as if he hadn’t just nearly killed them all by blowing the doors to the palace open.

Act confident. This isn’t an attack, it’s a fit of pique, he thought to himself as a group of young and well armed women scattered out of his path.

He’d actually almost made it to the doors leading to the inner council chambers when someone finally thought to bar his path.

“You dare?” A woman with a horse's tail and a rather large… fan, of all things growled at him. “To swan in here so audaciously after so grievously wounding the young master of the Stone Fur Sect?”

Jack paused, as he allowed his – admittedly patched – great metal helm to peer down at the woman. “Who are you?”

It was a genuine question on his part, but given the way the horse-kin stiffened and An and Ren tittered behind him, you’d think it was some kind of devastating insult.

Well, in for a penny, he thought. Confidence. Confidence.

“I am-”

“And. I. Do. Not. Care.” He enunciated, fingers on his right hand crackling with electrical arcs.

He’d have liked to have used the left hand too, but he’d cannibalized that for parts for a cane he’d never really gotten the opportunity to use.

Fortunately, he’d recently had cause to reallocate those parts once more.

“Move, or be moved,” he continued. “Though if I have to move you, my threat to the mortals outside will be enacted using that fancy little fan you’re holding instead.” He leaned forward. “Do not test me, girl.”

The woman’s pale features actually managed to become more so, as her eyes darted between his sparking hand and his face.

Then she backed up. Her pride didn’t quite allow her to run, but there was a definite stiffness to her gait as she soundlessly moved away.

Ren whispered huskily as they continued on. “Excellently done, master.”

An said nothing, but he couldn’t help but note that she was walking a little closer to his side than she had been a moment prior.

He was just happy that they’d managed to get through the lobby without getting into a running battle. Because even with An and Ren, he didn’t know if he’d have won. He knew he wouldn’t have won if the people beyond the doors in front of him got involved.

That was the whole purpose of this little show – intimidation.

Never mind that he was… sort of bluffing.

Only sort of though. He’d learned a lot over the course of the last few months. About cultivators and how best to combat them.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

And now he fully intended to put all that learning into action.

He stretched out his hands dramatically as a horde of angry chittering microbots seemed to appear from nothing. They rushed at the inner doors in front of him like a wave, emitting a sound like a woodchipper as they went to work.

They ate through the varnished wood in moments, forming a hole that got bigger and bigger until all that remained of the once massive doors were a quartet of slightly chewed corners.

Leaving Jack free to see the council of Ten Huo.

A very different council from the one he’d been first greeted by when first entering the city. He could see three or so familiar faces, Shui included. The rest though had been replaced by younger – or sometimes older – equivalents.

What he was looking at now were the Sect Elders or heirs that had been brought in to replace the leaders that had died in the Red Death’s attack.

And they were not the equals of the people they had replaced. Not in personal power. They would be, in time, but it would take years.

That was the problem with cultivators. They were expensive and slow to create.

Jack had no such limitations. His growth was exponential. And he’d finally grown to the point where he didn’t need to tiptoe.

Only one member of the council seemed unbothered by his entrance. At the center of the council chambers, Shui sat with a wide smile on her face as she cradled an oversized sword across her lap.

“Quite an entrance, Jack.” Her husky voice echoed through the council chambers.

Once more, Jack was reminded of his initial impression of the woman as some sort of bandit queen, rather than the leader of an ancient and prestigious sect.

“What can I say?” He responded as he stepped down the stairs towards the council itself. “Some of you need a small reminder of who exactly you’re dealing with.”

“Who exactly we’re dealing with?” A familiar voice mocked, the tiger-kin leaning forward in her chair. “An upjumped male is what we’re dealing with. And it’s long past time he was reminded of his place.”

A number of members of the council looked slightly discomfited by their colleague’s words, but made no move to argue. Shui actually looked rather pleased.

“Ah, Pan Su, I see the time you spent in my dungeon has done little to improve your manners,” Jack chuckled at the tiger-kin.

Now the leader of the famously misandrist Silver Paw Sect with the death of her mother, Pan Su glared at him from her seat. He’d clearly tweaked her nose with his reminder of the fact that he’d defeated her with ease the last time they’d clashed.

“Though if I’m acting above my station, I can’t help but wonder; what right have you to sit in that seat?”

“You dare?” she hissed, before sitting back. “You would not be so confident had you not… wormed your way into the good graces of a Divinity.”

Well, that was as convenient a segue as any he could have asked for.

“Is that so?” His helmet panned around the room. “Is that what you all think? That I am favored by the Rooster because of my… magical dick?”

A little crude perhaps, but he’d never been one for delicacy. Even the words he’d spoken thus far had required a not-insignificant amount of coaching from Ren and Huang.

No one said anything. Most refused to meet his gaze.

“I think, perhaps,” Shui said eventually. “That the silence of this council speaks for it.” She stood up. “You, while talented, are not worthy of the position of Magistrate. This grand rebellion cannot and will not succeed with a weak leader at its head.”

Jack laughed, even as he ignored the ‘weak’ comment. “It’s very convenient that you’d raise the issue of my elevation while my benefactor is… indisposed.”

That caused a bit of a stir. It was clear that not all of the council had known that Yating was out of the city.

Assuming he was actually out of the city. All Jack knew was that the divinity had said that he needed to leave before promptly disappearing. He’d not shown up on any of the miner’s sensors since.

It was possible the divinity was still around, but Jack doubted it. He had a feeling that the first probes from the Imperial side had finally shown themselves and the Rooster had disappeared to deal with them.

Shui didn’t bother to lie. “It’s not a coincidence. I may not have the reach of an Imperial Scion, but I still have a few contacts in the Imperial Army. I knew of the Imperial Envoy’s arrival in advance.”

Huh, that was… scary. None of his people had known of it. How had Shui even gotten that message? Were cultivator messengers slipping across the border between ‘his territory’ and the rest of the Empire? Or did she have some other more mystical means of communication?

“And you didn’t think to share that information?” he asked.

Shui shrugged. “Should the next few minutes go as I plan, it will soon be irrelevant. The Rooster shall return to find that you have peacefully chosen to withdraw from the running as a candidate for Magistrate. Better yet, you will have joined my sect.”

“Really?” Jack laughed. “And how do you see that happening?”

He wasn’t too worried about escaping if this was an ambush on the part of the council. He’d just grab An and Ren in each hand and jetpack out through the two entrances he’d just made while his microbots served as interference.

The council would be fast, but they couldn’t fly. He’d be back in his compound within minutes.

He hadn’t just knocked down those doors for the shock factor. He’d been securing his exit.

Clearly, Shui could read his thoughts.

“Nothing so crude as an ambush. This rebellion requires you to be alive. You are too valuable to kill. The Rooster’s eyes may be clouded, but that reasoning at least made sense to me.”

Huh, that was a point in favor of Shui not knowing about the assassin. Sure, he’d already known the source, but he had no idea if the one responsible for the order had co-conspirators.

Or had received an order themselves from their little alliance’s leader.

The pig-kin shook her head. “Instead, we will have a duel. You and I. Here and now. The strongest shall lead. The weaker shall submit totally. As things should always be.”

Jack cocked his head. “And why would I agree to that? I’m already set to become leader of Ten Huo.”

“Through the power of the hand of another,” Shui pointed out. “And a rule built on such a shaky foundation will never be stable.” She gestured to the council behind her. “Fight me now. Defeat me. And prove yourself worthy of this council’s loyalty.”

Huh, that was actually some pretty tempting bait. Plus, in the local parlance, it was the sort of thing no true cultivator could ever back down from.

To do so would be a massive loss of face. In essence, it would make Shui’s words a self-fulfilling prophecy. If he backed down here he would forever be plagued by disloyalty and rebelliousness.

“Nah.”

The silence was deafening – even Shui’s self assured smile seemed to fade for the first time since he’d entered.

“Pardon?” she asked.

Jack summoned his microbots to him, enjoying the way everyone stiffened as he floated into the air on a billowy chittering stream of shiny black tendrils.

“As I said when I first walked in here, I came here not to play your games. I came here to remind you of what exactly you are all dealing with.”

With a single thought, a dozen gleaming red armor pieces appeared around him, clicking onto connection ports on the armor’s exterior.

“I am the man who slew the Red Death.”

There was no mistaking the audible gasps as he floated, resplendent in his dragon-plate armor.

It was not subtle. It was audacious. Red scales covered him from head to toe, varying in size based on his need for mobility. Gleaming white teeth that had been carved from the beast and then cut down to size with a laser cutter studded his shoulder pads. And atop it all, on his head, stood a pair of gleaming fiery feathers gifted to him by Yating.

Flames billowed from his backpack, filling the air with a roar that sounded like that of a dragon.

“I am the killer of Cui. Defeater of Bao. Protector of the Gate. Creator of Gonnes. Burner of Hordes. And the master acknowledged a peer by a divinity!” He bellowed. “Yet you dare to challenge me!”

Shui took a small step back, her mouth opening to say something, but he overrode her, his suit’s speakers reaching noise levels that would be downright painful to a cultivator.

“You dare to send assassins to slit my throat in the night!”

There it was. Genuine confusion. On every face present. With one exception.

Pan Su.

Which he’d already known. Ren had been able to identify the assassin once he’d made a recreation of her face.

“I-” Shui visibly collected herself. “I would never.”

Jack paused, baleful gaze staring down at her as his microbots gnashed like a hundred angry dogs.

“Fortunately for you, I believe you.” He lifted a single finger. “Which means the conspirator acted alone. To curry favor with you – or perhaps out of blind arrogance and petty anger.” He shrugged as best he could within his suit. “It matters not.”

He took a deep breath as he prepared to give the signal, well aware that Lin was listening in.

“When I arrived in this city, I was gifted the compound of a sect that had previously offended the previous ruler by engaging in treason. At the time I thought it barbaric. Overkill.” He floated a half step forward using his microbots. “But now I see the need for it. This council has a short memory. A memory that must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of traitors.”

That was it. The code word.

A scant few seconds passed before two explosions rang out across the city with such force that the very ground shook.

Cultivators, for all their similarities, weren’t jedi. They didn’t sense a ‘disturbance in the force’ when one of them died. You could kill a dozen a block away from one and they might not feel it.

With that said, the ki of over a hundred cultivators disappearing at once was impossible to miss.

“What… what have you done?” Pan Su asked in a quavering voice.

Truth be told, Jack was surprised she was the first to recover.

Then again, I imagine this feels a lot more pressing to her, he thought.

“The Imperial Remnant and the Silver Paw Sect are no more.”

He stated it like it was the simplest thing in the world.

And in many ways, it had been.

He had learned a lot about killing cultivators over the last few months after all.

His gaze panned over all of them.

“Now… bow.”

Shui was the first. Her trembling knees touched the cold stone beneath her as she bowed deeply. A feat soon followed by the entirety of the Council of Ten Huo.

With the exception of Pan Su, who merely stood, staring at nothing.

Which was fine by Jack. She wasn’t a councilor after all. You needed a sect for that.