Ultimate Villain's Return as a Doctor in the Cultivation World-Chapter 254- Queen Comes to Know
He pulled her up by the hair.
Both of them upright now — her back against his chest, his arm around her front, his cock still inside her from behind while he held her suspended in the specific, both-off-the-mattress quality of a position where gravity was his and hers was borrowed.
Her head fell back against his shoulder.
He looked at her face from this angle — at the specific, side-profile quality of a girl whose eyes were going in the specific direction that eyes go when the body is receiving something the mind cannot process fast enough to keep up with.
"’—please me,’" he said, against her ear.
She heard it.
The word landed in the specific way that words land when someone is too deep inside you for language to travel at normal speed — slowly, with delay, through several layers of sensation before the meaning assembled.
She thought about the breakthrough.
The specific, enormous, warm quality of the qi rushing into her when she ate the herb — the decade of waiting compressed into four seconds — and beneath that, the specific reading she had done on the queen’s face when he said ’your daughter’s condition is known to me.’
’If I am pleased, I would help them.’
Her hips moved.
Not from confidence — from the specific, experimental quality of someone who has arrived at a conclusion and is testing whether the body can execute it, one tentative roll of the hips that received from him the specific, reading quality of attention that said ’yes, that.’
She moved again.
Deliberate.
PAH PAH!
"’—AAAHN~!!! HAANN~!!!—’"
He drove to meet it.
PAAH!
"’—KYAAANGHHH~!!! Aaahn~... aaahn~...—’"
He bent her forward again — back into the mattress, hands at her hips now instead of her hair — and the rhythm built, his pace accelerating past what it had been in the initial strokes, the specific, this-is-no-longer-measured quality of someone who had moved past assessment into the full register of the thing.
PAH PAH PAH PAAH!
"’—AAAHN~!!! HAANN~!!! AAAHN~!!! AAAHNNNN~!!!—’"
Her ass bounced with every drive.
The specific, dense-jiggle quality of giantess-tribe proportions taking a pounding from behind, the sound of it filling the room, the rhythm of it consistent and merciless and audible through the bedroom door, through the corridor stone, into the hallway beyond.
CLAP CLAP CLAP CLAP!
"’—AAAHN~!!! AAAHN~!!! HAANN~!!! AAAHN~!!!—’"
"’—Immortal—your thing — it’s tearing me apart — please—’"
He pulled her hair back.
Bent her spine into the deep arch.
PAH PAH PAAH PAH!
"’—AAAHN~!!! HAANN~!!! AHN~!!! AAAHNNNN~~~~~!!!!—’"
’’’
The hallway.
The queen had been in motion for several minutes.
The specific, purposeful quality of a seven-foot pregnant woman walking through her own palace toward the guest wing with two senior attendants beside her and two behind — moving at the pace that a queen moves when she has decided she wants to know something and has decided she wants to know it now.
"’—He healed Miran’s cultivation in four seconds,’" the senior attendant on her left said. "’—Simply by having her eat a herb he produced from his robe.’"
"’—I was there,’" the queen said.
"’—Yes, My Queen, I know — I am simply saying that if his herb can do that for a simple servant with Qi-Condensation base, what could he do for the young lady’s fractured foundation with proper application—’"
"’—He said he has no obligation,’" the queen said.
"’—Yes.’"
"’—He said it depends on his mood.’"
"’—Yes.’"
Silence for two paces.
"’—Then we find out what his mood requires,’" the queen said. "’—Every man has a price. Every immortal has a weakness. I would give him anything this tribe has if it means my daughter cultivates again. Anything.’" A pause. "’—I just need to know what he wants.’"
They turned the corner into the guest wing hallway.
They all stopped.
The sound came through the bedroom door and through the corridor stone with the specific, unmuffled, architectural clarity of a sound that had not been designed to stay contained.
CLAP CLAP CLAP!
"’—AAAHN~!!! HAANN~!!! AHN~!!! AAAHNNNN~!!! —’"
"’—AAAHN~!!! it’s too big — Immortal — your thing is tearing me apart — please—’"
The queen looked at the bedroom door.
Her attendants looked at the bedroom door.
One of them looked at the queen.
The queen looked at the window set high in the corridor wall — the ventilation window, the specific, narrow but present architectural feature of inner guest wing corridors designed for the plateau’s particular air circulation — and moved toward it.
She looked through.
The bed was visible from this angle.
The maid — Miran, nineteen years old, Qi-Condensation base three hours ago, Foundation Establishment as of forty minutes ago — was on the bed with her hair in his fist and her spine bent and her face in the sheets and the sounds she was making were coming from a body that was being addressed at a scale the girl had not been designed for and was receiving anyway.
PAH PAH PAH PAAH!
"’—AAAHN~!!! AAAHN~!!! HAANN~!!!—’"
The queen’s jaw tightened.
She moved for the door.
"’—My Queen—’" The senior attendant’s hand at her elbow, the specific, cautious, please-think-about-this quality of someone who had watched what this man did to two guards with a single finger snap. "’—My Queen, he is—’"
"’—She is my people,’" the queen said, voice low, eyes at the door.
"’—My Queen.’"
The light.
It was the attendant behind the queen who saw it first — who had not moved for the door and was still looking through the corridor window — and whose voice stopped the queen’s forward motion with the specific quality of a tone that had encountered something unprecedented.
"’—My Queen,’" she said. "’—look.’"
The queen looked back through the window.
The light was coming from Miran.
Not from him — from ’her’, from inside her, the specific visible quality of a cultivation base doing something that cultivation bases did not normally do during the category of activity currently being performed in that bedroom — the golden-white shimmer of spiritual energy moving visibly through the meridians, surfacing at the skin as light the way it surfaced during breakthrough, during the specific, critical, boundary-breaching moment of a cultivation base crossing from one realm to the next.
Miran’s screams had changed.
Not stopped — but changed in register, the pain and the overwhelm still present in them but layered now with something that wasn’t those things, something the body made sounds for when it was receiving two categories of input simultaneously and both of them were past the manageable threshold.
"’—AAAHN~!!! HAANN~!!! I — something — something is—’"
The light grew.
Golden, pressing outward from her skin, the spiritual qi of the guest bedroom’s ambient air beginning to move toward her the way air moves toward a flame, the specific inward-pulling current of a breakthrough in progress.
PAH PAH PAAH!
"’—AAAHN~!!! AAAHNN~!!! AAAHNNNN~~~~~!!!!—’"
The attendant beside the queen’s mouth was open.
The queen’s hand had found the corridor wall.
"’—is she—’" The attendant. Low. Shocked.
"’—wait,’" the queen said.
The light pulsed.
The specific, rhythmic quality of it — building with each of his drives, surging in the specific interval of each impact, the cultivation base breaching in time with the pounding, the spiritual qi flooding the meridians each time the body reached the specific, overwhelmed, past-all-management peak of the thing.
"’—is he—’" The attendant behind them. The words forming slowly, the specific quality of someone saying something they cannot fully believe they are saying. "’—is she having a breakthrough?’"
’!!?!’
The queen’s hand was still on the corridor wall.
Through the ventilation window, the light coming off Miran’s skin was the golden-warm of Foundation Establishment spiritual energy — Foundation Establishment Early, still new, the breakthrough from forty minutes ago still cycling — but it was moving.
Not cycling.
Climbing.
PAH PAH PAAH!
"—AAAHN~!!! HAANN~!!! AAAHNN~!!!—"
He had turned her.
She was on her back now, both legs over his shoulders, the specific, folded, full-depth geometry of a girl whose legs were long enough that the position produced angles that short women’s bodies didn’t allow — and he was driving down into her at the specific, steep quality that the position created, each stroke arriving at the depth of her from a direction her body had no prior cartography for.
Her chest.
Free, both of them, the torn uniform somewhere on the floor, and with her legs folded over his shoulders the position pushed her chest together from the sides and forward — the natural compression of the posture — and both nipples tracked with every drive, the specific, helpless-jiggle quality of flesh receiving impact from a connected body, trembling with each stroke in the specific, small-amplitude, high-frequency way that dense flesh jiggles when it’s being driven.
"—AAAHN~!!! It’s — Immortal — deeper — it’s too—" She stopped herself mid-word, the word having arrived somewhere she hadn’t intended to send it, eyes widening at her own voice. 𝗳𝚛𝚎𝚎𝘄𝕖𝕓𝕟𝕠𝚟𝚎𝕝.𝗰𝕠𝐦
The attendant to the queen’s left had her hand over her own mouth.
The attendant to her right was looking through the window with the specific, wide-eyed, neck-craning quality of a woman who was going to tell herself she was watching the breakthrough and had not yet finished negotiating with what else she was watching.
The queen was watching the light.
It was at Foundation Establishment — Middle, now.
In forty minutes.
PAH PAH PAH PAAH!
"—AAAHN~!!! HAANN~!!! AHN~!!! AAAHNNNN~~~~~!!!!—"
Miran’s back arched off the mattress.
Both hands at his forearms — not pushing, not pulling, the specific, neither-quite quality of hands that had given up on the direction of the push and were simply gripping the nearest available surface — and her whole body was lit from inside the way lanterns are lit, the golden shimmer pressing outward through her skin at every meridian junction.
The qi in the corridor was moving.
The queen felt it — the specific, ambient-energy-being-drawn quality of a breakthrough pulling the surrounding spiritual qi toward its source like a drain — and beside her, the attendants felt it too.
And below the cultivation-body’s reading of the ambient qi — below all of that, in the specific, lower, warmer, more embarrassing region of a woman’s body that did not consult the cultivation base before reporting — something else was happening to everyone in the hallway.
The queen was aware of it.
