Dual Cultivation: Gathering SSS-Rank Wives in the Cultivation World

Chapter 758: Chapter 758- The Fight is On

The headmistress, her dark eyes, her composed face, held the revelation.

"Actually," she said. Her voice was careful. Measured. The tone of a woman revealing a confidence. "I am personally told to handle the case of the immortal emperor."

The words, the admission, the revelation that this kind, older woman was connected to the Emperor, was the key. The door. The opportunity.

"What?" the merchant’s daughter said. Her warm eyes, wide, streamed. "Why didn’t you say this before? Please help me!"

She started crying. The tears, the streaming, falling, desperate tears of a woman who had found a lifeline, who had found someone who could help, who could reach the Emperor, fell. The begging, the raw, broken, begging of a woman who needed to save her father, was genuine.

"Please," she whispered. Her voice was cracked. "I need to help my father."

The headmistress, her dark eyes, her composed face, held the final card. The manipulation, the carefully constructed, emotionally engineered trap, was sprung.

"Actually," she said. Her voice was low. Conspiratorial. "He has ordered me to bring a virgin woman. From a brothel. He wants her to warm his bed."

The words, the revelation, the nature of the request, hit the merchant’s daughter. Her warm eyes, wide, streamed. The shock, the confusion, the moral conflict, was there.

"What?" she said. Her voice was incredulous. "Why would someone as dignified and strong as him..."

The question, the natural, human, moral question of a woman who could not reconcile the image of a supreme, divine Emperor with the request for a virgin from a brothel, was there.

The headmistress, her dark eyes steady, explained.

"He is, after all, a dual cultivator," she said. Her voice was matter-of-fact. The explanation, the clinical, practiced explanation, was delivered. "He needs women to soothe his cultivation. His cultivation technique is like this."

The explanation, the justification, the framing of the request as a natural, necessary, cultivation requirement, was designed to normalize. To make the abnormal seem natural. To make the obscene seem necessary.

The merchant’s daughter, her warm eyes, her face, the shock, the confusion, the moral conflict, was visible.

"What?" she said. Her voice was shaky. "Why is it like that? I don’t understand."

The headmistress, her dark eyes, her composed face, held the patience. The manipulation, the careful, patient, step-by-step manipulation of a woman who had been taught by her master, was in its final phase.

"Before the woman could answer," the merchant’s daughter said, her voice firmer, the decision, the rejection, the moral refusal forming, "forget about it."

She held the bucket of flowers. Her body, the full, curvy frame, turned. Her steps, measured, were the steps of a woman walking away. From the request. From the manipulation. From the immorality.

"I’m going to search," she said. Her voice was tight. "You will search for another woman."

"Stop," the headmistress said. The word, the command, the single, sharp, cutting word, was delivered.

She stopped. Her body, the full frame, the curly hair, the brown dress, was still.

"Stop," the headmistress repeated. Her voice was softer. The tone of a woman offering a lifeline to a drowning person. "And she stopped."

The merchant’s daughter, her warm eyes, her face, the conflict, the desperation, the need, was there.

"Please," she whispered. Her voice was broken. "Please let me. I will do it."

The headmistress, her dark eyes, her composed face, smiled. The satisfaction, the internal, private satisfaction of a woman who had successfully manipulated a desperate person, was there.

Her mind, completely corrupted, was not even caring about morality. About human decency. About the fact that she was delivering a virgin woman to a god who would fuck her, break her, remake her. The headmistress, the corrupted, devoted, broken woman, saw only service. Only her master’s will. Only the mission.

The merchant’s daughter, her warm eyes, her face, the surrender, the submission of a woman who was willing to spread her legs for a god to save her father, was there.

~ The Inheritance Mountain

The ships had arrived.

The mountain range, the northern peaks, the inheritance site of the Jade Sect’s Fairy, was before them. The mountains, tall and jagged, were covered in formation light. The barriers, the ancient, jade-green formations that protected the inheritance site, were active. The qi, the spiritual energy radiating from the mountains, was dense.

And the monsters.

The beasts, the spiritual creatures, the guardian species that inhabited the inheritance site, were attacking. Huge, massive, scaled and furred and clawed, the beasts surged from the mountain passes, from the caves, from the forests. Their roars, the guttural, primal, earth-shaking roars of spiritual beasts defending their territory, filled the air.

The cultivators fought.

The Long Dynasty army, the Divine Integration captains, the Soul Formation and Nascent Soul soldiers, advanced. The major inner zone, the deep, core area of the inheritance site, was their target. The power gap, the sheer, overwhelming difference between the Long Dynasty forces and the local cultivators, was immense. The Dynasty soldiers, their formation arrays, their military discipline, their overwhelming cultivation, broke through the beast hordes like a blade through paper.

The local cultivators, the kingdom’s forces, the sect disciples, the independent cultivators, fought on the outer zones. Their cultivation, lower, their coordination, poorer, their progress, slower. But they fought. The beasts, the spiritual creatures, were valuable. The cores, the materials, the spiritual resources, were worth the risk.

The twins, Jin Yuhan and the junior sister, were in the middle zone. Their identical bodies, their identical robes, their identical Body Integration cultivation, were side by side. Their weapons, the spiritual swords, the formation talismans, were drawn.

A beast, a massive, scaled lizard, charged. Its jaws, the teeth, the size of swords, were open. Its qi, the Core Formation level energy, was dense.

Jin Yuhan, her sword, the spiritual blade, swung. The qi, the Body Integration energy, sliced. The lizard, its jaw, was severed. The blood, the hot, green fluid, sprayed.

The junior sister, her sword, was in her other hand. A second beast, a furred ape, charged from the side. Her blade, the Body Integration qi, cut. The ape, its arm, was severed. The creature, howling, fell.

They fought. Side by side. Their identical movements, their identical techniques, their twin synergy, were seamless. But their words, their dialogue, were hostile.

"Get off, you bitch!" the junior sister yelled. Her sword, cutting through a beast, was followed by the insult. The anger, the resentment, the jealousy of a woman who had been fucked all night and was still sore, was there.

Jin Yuhan, her sword, cutting through another beast, smirked. The expression, the satisfied, knowing smirk of a woman who had planned the exchange, who had delivered her sister to the Emperor, who had gotten exactly what she wanted, was there.

"Didn’t you enjoy it?" she said. Her musical voice was teasing. The provocation, the deliberate, calculated provocation of a woman who knew she had won, was delivered mid-combat.

The junior sister, her dark eyes, furious, slammed her sword through a beast’s skull.

"Damn you!" she screamed. The anger, the fury, the helpless rage of a woman who had been used and could not deny that she had also been advanced, was there.

On the other side of the battlefield, Liu Mei, the Purple Astral Ancestor, was fighting. Her voluptuous body, her purple robes, her amethyst eyes, were there. Her cultivation, Body Integration peak, was radiating.

Her sword, the astral blade, was in one hand.

Her other hand, free, was casting formation spells. The beasts, the creatures around her, fell. The astral qi, the purple energy, sliced through them like paper.