Cultivating Anthro CEO RPG Hero Harem Reincarnation In Another World - Chapter 109

Chunhua was walking with the Stormfleece girl, whose name she now knew to be Bridget, down a trail leading through a peaceful pine forest. Being taken in, by the serene quiet: of the only sounds coming from their trudging footsteps, along a ground of loose-pebbled dirt covered in spilled pine needles; and the echoing calls of exotic tropical species of birds. Basking, in the unspoiled air, livened with the aromas of fruit-bearing trees and flowering shrubs.

After a while, though, the two began conversing as they continued along:

“You won’t find a place like this in Seaspan,” Bridget commented, just as her sights honed onto a Toucan perched on a nearby branch.

“It’s all ‘real,’ too,” Chunhua said. “Supposedly.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well…how broad is your knowledge of the Gnomish people?”

“Um…not very,” Bridget admitted, using one hand to brush back her fiery orange ripples of hair. “Mostly I was just taught to be wary around the old underground ruins: there’s still some technology alive in some of them. Some that’ll tear your flesh from bone, or light you up in flames.”

“Indeed, it’s common knowledge that the Gnomes were a race of masterful craftsmen,” Chunhua mused. “Not the least of which was the [Maidé Ball]— believed to have been used by Gnomish aristocrats, at first, as simply a convenient means of transporting one’s multiple wives. Only later being used for more”—she drew in a breath, briefly pausing—”nefarious purposes.”

Bridget smirked, giving a small grunt of amusement as she crossed her arms behind her head. “A tool to help them keep track of their livestock, in other words,” she said. “Not a very socially progressive race, were they?”

Suddenly Chunhua halted in her steps, turning to Bridget with a serious face.

“Now…what if I told you the Gnomes were even capable of creating entire dimensions. Entire pocket realities”—she gestured at their surroundings—”such as the one which we now inhabit. But also many, countless others like it.”

“I would say you were stark raving mad,” Bridget replied, cracking a grin at the insecure look this earned from Chunhua. “If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.”

Chunhua smiled, giving a clumsy nod. “It’s…quite nice, isn’t it?”

“Being forced into slavery, you mean?”

“N-no…I was referring to this island beach setting,” Chunhua answered timidly, then facing down. “Oh, wait…I just realized you were being sarcastic.”

Bridget raised an eyebrow. “You seem real anxious, princess.”

“Isn’t it obvious why…?” she said, glancing to the side with a wry smile. “We’re meant to be at each other’s throats. But instead, here we are: having a nice stroll, engaging in small talk.”

Bridget shrugged. “Like I said, I never joined the Stormfleeces because I believed in their ideals.”

“I find it strange, then, that you were able to rise in the ranks, as far as becoming Commander, without anyone finding out,” Chunhua said. “Surely you wouldn’t have gained such an important role otherwise.”

“The key to my little ‘deceit’ was all in the presentation.”

“So you tricked everybody?”

“With surprisingly little effort, too. It’s amazing how easily you can ‘fit in’ with a group, just through making shallow noise. Nodding, and pretending to go along with what everyone tells you, while secretly doing things in a way you know is better.”

She positioned her hands on her hips, adopting a proud stance.

“My preferred stealth tactics…were, at first, heavily frowned upon by my brave Nornish brothers: how I would use their aggressive offense, as a cover, to pluck away at high-priority targets from the shadows with my bow.”

“Even though it proved effective,” Chunhua interjected, before abruptly gasping—turning wide-eyed. “I remember…hearing many tales about the dreaded Black Owl: a peerless masked archer, fighting for the Norn, who sewed chaos across many battlefields by disrupting our chains of command, with only a few well-placed arrows.”

“Communication is everything on the battlefield,” Bridget explained. “I had recognized, pretty early on, that it was one of the core strengths of the Cultivator army: that your couriers could fly, and thus quickly move messages between a commander and their disposal of soldiers.”

Chunhua nodded, holding her breath as the full impact of Bridget’s words clicked in her head:

“Worse still…in order for one to achieve flight it takes many years of dedicated cultivation—such that eliminating even just a handful of our fliers would’ve set our organization back immensely.”

“Huh,” Bridget said, taken aback, with a sheepish grin. “I never even knew that.”

And Chunhua was impressed, more than anything, saying, “it’s…quite remarkable, really: the huge influence a single individual making smart decisions can have on the outcome of a large-scale war.”

Bridget sat, cross-legged on the ground. “Which is why there’s an entire regiment of Black Owls, now.”

She chuckled, closing her eyes.

“It would seem this starving orphan girl has left her mark on the world, for better or worse.”

“Much like how none would’ve thought I was capable of achieving such a high cultivation spirit rank, in so short a time.” Chunhua said as she proceeded to sit with them, folding her knees against her chest with a charmed smile. “Our stories are quite tragic, though, aren’t they…?”

Bridget snuggled up tight against her. “How so?”

“We are each prodigies, in our own ways, that arose from nothing,” she went on to explain, as her smile gradually faded to a frown. “Each taken by fate, far too early in our prime.”

At this, Bridget rose sharply with loud laughter.

“Cultivator! You talk like we’re dead…!”

“Aren’t we, though?” Chunhua said while gazing up at them, with a forlorn expression, as she held her arm tightly against her budding chest. “We have lost our freedoms, our very bodies and identities stolen from us!”

“Yet, there is still hope!” Bridget returned. “So long as we still draw our breaths.”

Chunhua was opening her mouth to reply, but stopped when suddenly there was a light rustling in the bushes—drawing the attention of both girls.

“Is someone there?” Bridget asked, walking over to investigate. As Chunhua remained sitting where she was: pale-faced and frozen still with her back stiffened, at the thought of Lorica and Cindy returning to ruin the nice atmosphere.

There came no reply while Bridget waited in front of a tall bush: through which she could glimpse the outline of somebody hunkered down, peering at her with large red eyes. Breathing softly.

“Show yourself!” Bridget snapped, then crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes with an angry huff.

Chunhua stood, blushing.

“Lorica-senpai? Cindy-senpai?” she said, blushing bright pink and sweating nervously. Before promptly lowering herself, bowing until her forehead grazed the dirt, her sloped body and jutting small buttocks forming a lovely pear shape. “I…wanted to apologize, again: for failing to show you all due respect.”

Bridget glanced at her, in confusion. “Eh…? What’s with you all of a sudden?”

Chunhua of course wouldn’t say, but inasmuch as she was degrading herself for her own perverted pleasure: simultaneously, she was doing it in a bid to spare Bridget from Lorica’s brutally domineering wrath.

Which was why she cried out, pleading more loudly and pathetically than ever before:

“My superiors, you’ve returned! If there’s any way I can make it up to you, I’ll do it without hesitation. My youthful body”—she came—”my material flesh, my heart and cultivated soul all belongs to you: my magnanimous and wise superiors!”

“Wow,” Bridget said, smiling awkwardly at the display. “Is this some kind of perverted kink thing, or something…?”

“You should lower yourself, too, Bridget.”

She quickly held up an empty palm. “No thanks—I’ll pass.”

“Y-you’re my inferior, so listen to me!”

Bridget glared. “Excuse me?!”

Chunhua’s voice was rising as she lifted her face out of the dirt, turning to face them. “I came to this island before you: so you should bow to me, just as I bow to my superiors!”

Bridget scoffed. “Pfft. I wouldn’t even bow to Yorick Stormfleece, and I certainly won’t just to satisfy your weird fetish.”

“Fool! It is the [Sacred Divine Law]!”

“Never heard of it!” Bridget yelled, throwing up her arms as she walked toward the suspicious bush. “Anyway, there’s no sense in our uninvited guest to keep trying to hide from us”—she scooped one arm into the bush, promptly pulling the peeping tom out by a strong grasp on their curly blonde hair. “For Talon’s sake, we both can see you!”

It was then that Chunhua rose sharply, pointing a finger at the revealed interloper. “That’s…”

Neither Lorica, nor Cindy: A bone-pale loli with hair dressed in golden yellow, curly locks that cutely billowed to her shoulders. Wearing a pink, yellow polka-dotted bikini skirt; and a matching top, poking out from underneath a cropped, white short-sleeved t-shirt emblazoned with a symbol of a huge pink skull and crossbones.

“Ouch…! Let me go, please, miss!” the blonde loli cried, in a high-pitched voice, with a scared expression in one gleaming amber eye; the other presently sealed from the pain she felt at Bridget’s grip, still maintaining its staunch hold on her hair.

“I WILL,” Bridget replied, “just as soon as you tell us what you were doing snooping around in the bushes like a mangy wolf, eavesdropping on our conversation.”

“Have mercy! I suddenly appeared here and was too scared to approach you!”

Chunhua couldn’t believe her eyes.

“It’s…another [Pocket Maid].”