Cultivating Anthro CEO RPG Hero Harem Reincarnation In Another World - Chapter 107

“What?” Chunhua was caught off guard by the Stormfleece girl’s passive reception of her. “You can…recognize me?” she questioned in awe. “Even when I’m”—she swallowed anxiously, glancing down at her tiny, princessy feet—”like this…?

The redheaded girl gave a crooked grin. “Well, I can sense you’re still the same person with the snotty vibe”—she gestured with her hand held horizontally flat in the air, impishly winking and grinning—”just a bit shrunken down.”

“Snotty!” Chunhua squeaked. “How so?”

“Like you’re a spoiled princess, expected to be waited on by everyone.”

“That couldn’t be further from the truth!”

“Is that so?” she asked, receiving a fiery nod. “Then, are you suggesting that everything I’ve come to learn about Cultivators is untrue?”

“I worked tirelessly at officer’s the academy, in order to secure my position!”

The Stormfleece then cast her a glare.

“Oh…? And how big was Yorick, when you saw fit to ‘interrogate’ him in his cell?”

Chunhua kissed her teeth. “So, you’ve already gotten to him,” she hissed; hiding the fact that she was secretly taken by the Stormfleece’s rolling, almost lyrical way of speaking that was like music to her ears. Further exceeded by the imparted youthful quality to her voice, contrasting cutely with her mature tone and phrasing—sounding like a precocious child rebelling against her authorities, eager to expose their flaws and corruption.

And yet, even though Chunhua’s flaws were evidently well-known to her adversary, what she was granted—instead of scorn, as she felt would be deserved—was a look of warmth, followed by sympathetic words:

“You’re not as cool and composed as you want others to believe, are you?”

“Quit spouting nonsense!’ Chunhua demanded as she flinched at the question, which felt as though it had cut straight to her core.

“See? You’re getting all defensive just from being put on the spot.”

“Choose your words carefully, savage.”

“What you’re seeking, more than anything, is relief: From the responsibilities that have been thrust upon you. From having to be the one in control all the time”—her gaze narrowed, becoming like thin blades—”relief from the aching loneliness you feel.”

“Speak no further!” Chunhua raged. “You know nothing of my struggle!” Then adding, as her voice was cracking in a show of vulnerability: “h-how could you possibly…?”

The Stormfleece fell silent, for a moment. Glancing away, it was clear she was reluctant to admit the reason. However:

“I was the commander of my unit, as well.”

…

Akira and Lorica wished for nothing more than to mate, right then, atop a pile of the corpses of their enemies, but Vash was insistent that they continue.

“Hmph! You’re always such a party-pooper,” Akira protested. This, coming after he’d followed Vash and Zhao for a while, in silence, along a damp rocky tunnel overgrown with mushrooms. “We could’ve brought all the [Pocket Maids] out at once, and had a real good time.”

Vash gave a tired sigh, not ceasing in his steady walk forward. “Again, Akira: there’s a giant, fire-breathing dragon—”

“To Hell with the dragon!” Akira snapped.

“You’re acting like a child again…”

“I’m sick of all this plot bullshit getting in the way of me enjoying some fair ladies!” Akira yelled back as, meanwhile, Cindy looked across at Lorica when they started giggling.

“You seem happy,” Cindy said, producing a meek smile.

“That’s because I couldn’t be more happy than I am right now, sweetie!” she said excitedly, with stars in her eyes. “I’m finally going to get to adventure again, after being stuck in this village for so long!”

Akira, overhearing her, half-turned to join the conversation:

“Don’t you miss that executioner guy?”a

To which, Lorica scoffed. “Hardly! We were together for almost ten years, but more as coworkers than anything.”

“You two seemed like a tight couple.”

Lorica pouted her lips. “Even if that’s true…!” She paused, calming and regathering herself with an annoyed sigh. “It was his idea, in the first place, for us to retire. And I was so stupidly in love with him that I agreed, even though I was close to thirty years younger than him—before even becoming a little girl.”

“Huh? So people age in this world…?”

“Uh, yeah?” she gave a nervous chuckle. “What, do people not age in the world you come from? You and that mage aren’t actually Faefolk, are you?”

“Faefolk,” Akira repeated. “I’ve heard them be brought up a few times.”

“They’re even bigger pricks than the Cultivators: born practically immortal, unlike the Cultivators who have to at least earn it; naturally gifted in nearly all forms of magic. The Fight Girl Treaty was ultimately signed to appease them, to prevent an all-out war.”

“Not that I’m complaining, but what kind of madman first got the idea to turn their enemy’s women into little girls?” Akira questioned. “And then—if that weren’t humiliating enough—forcing them to fight.”

“It’s rooted in old Gnome tradition,” Zhao interjected.”The Gnomes were the original inhabitants of Seaspan: said to have been the most technologically advanced to ever walk Hambriel, until their sudden unexplained disappearance several hundred years ago.”

He then glanced at Lorica and Cindy, holding an unwavering stare.

“However, the Gnomes were also a cruel race: known to have captured the womenfolk of the other races they fought—the Norns and Snow Fairies—then transforming them into women of their own species to bear more pure-blooded Gnome children, or else fight in gladiatorial arenas for their amusement.”

Akira’s eyes widened. “So, wait…that means these two have actually become Gnomes?” He squinted, as if straining to read a pertinent line in the fine print of a contract. “As in…Lorica and Cindy aren’t actually little girls?”

Lorica hugged his neck from behind, smirking. “You sound disappointed.”

“N-n-no! It’s actually great news,” Akira said, quickly—before abruptly turning to face you, the reader: “because it means I can have all the fun training as many [Pocket Maids] as I want, without any guilt or shame.”

Vash, of course, was considerably less enthused—deeply frowning, about what was essentially Akira being given a free license to be even more obnoxious. As well, an all-new concern had sprung into his mind: one which had caused him to crinkle his brow, in worry, as he shifted his burdened gaze toward Zhao.

“Is there any way to revert the transformation into a Gnome?”

Zhao hung his head. “None that the greatest minds and mages of our time have been able to find, thus far. Even across many eras of research into the ancient Gnome technology.”

“I see,” Vash replied, clenching his teeth as he stared bitterly at the soily ground.

‘So, Kanna will also be…’

…

Chunhua and the captured Stormfleece fighter were sitting by the shore, watching the waves gently lap against the pearly white sands. They’d been talking for a bit, through which Chunhua had learned that her name was actually Bridget, as they each traded tales of their surprisingly similar histories.

“My parents were both accidentally killed by Cultivator soldiers, in a rebellion at Summercreek,” Bridget was saying, frowning sadly, idly digging her fingers into the sand.

“Accidentally…? What do you mean?”

“Well…at least I was told it was an accident: that they were mistaken for rebels, and killed on the spot.” Pausing, she squeezed a handful of sand in her palm, closing her eyes as she quietly took in a deep breath. “They never talked about politics around me…probably because I was so young at the time

…but, I’ve also been told they were ardent supporters of the Dominion’s regime.”

Hearing this, Chunhua gasped “so they died for nothing.”

“Yup. Sure seems that way.”

“Then…surely, you decided to become a Stormfleece to avenge them?”

“No,” Bridget quickly replied as she cracked a smile, briefly chuckling. “I became a Stormfleece because I was starving on the streets of Windgreaves.”

She leaned back, against her propped arms.

“Even when I was still just a little girl…tasked with cleaning armor and scrubbing doen leathers; salvaging intact arrows and weapons, or whatever other valuables I could find in the inventories of fallen soldiers, after every battle…I could keep myself fed. Even if it was just a stale loaf of bread and a hunk of cheese, to last me all day.”

“I know what that’s like,” Chunhua said sadly whilst lowering her head, letting her dark hair fall down the sides of her face. “I was an orphan, living off crumbs on the streets of the Floating City.”

Bridget stared at her silently, with compassion.

But upon tilting her head slowly, to glimpse their expression out of the corner of her eyes, Chunhua hurriedly hid her face in her crossed arms, stifling back sobs.

“There’s…more…”

Bridget sat up straight. “Hey…it’s alright if you don’t want to tell.”

Chunhua shook her head, keeping her face hidden. For, although she didn’t know why, Chunhua felt compelled to tell her new acquaintance—one who should be her enemy—the darkest truth about her history, that she’d kept a secret from everyone. Even Zhao: her closest confidant.

“While I was living on the streets…then, when I was studying in the academy, before I gained my cultivator powers”—she paused, her breath audibly catching in her throat—”it was nonstop, whenever Zhao wasn’t there to protect me.”

The waves crashed more loudly all of a sudden: resulting in a tall, cascading spray of fading glimmers of sparkles, off a nearby outcropping of rugged rock.

Un the ensuing deafening silence, Bridget sighed.

“Aw, shit.”