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Han and Lo, the Silent Sentinels, were the tallest among the Magiro mountains. It was once said they were the body guards of the Gods, and that Han and Lo were made into mountains to watch over the lands. Long ago a village had been built into a nook at the foot of the two mountains. Once a healthy community, it was abandoned some centuries ago. Now the little village had become a temporary respite for criminals, exiles and vagabonds.

Mist clung to empty streets and vacant homes strangled by overgrowth. So dense was the shadow of the mountains that the twinkle of the stars above were swallowed up, plunging the skeleton of a community into darkness. Light broke the oppressive murk in the back of the village in the form of a single torch flickering in opposition to the night's chill.

Two figures stood within the torch light. Both wore the traditional garb of the ninja on a night mission, their identities hidden beneath the matching masks. One was lanky, with a long torso and shorter limbs characteristic of mustelids, while the other, shorter, bore a long, canine muzzle and the rust-colored, black-tipped tail of a dhole.

Both regarded the ancient doorway tucked into the back of the village, carved into the mountainside itself. Cut into the archway were the standard lettering heralding the rooms beyond as a temple to the gods local and supreme alike. Yet what had caught the attention of the two shinobi was a simple character etched at eye level.

A stylized rectangle stood lengthwise vertical, its bottom edge missing. Below on either side were wide crescents whose ends met underneath the rectangle, their inner curve facing upwards. Sleeker lines forming the character for "Strength" swept from the crescents up into the rectangle.

To a commoner stumbling across the doorway, the symbol would mean as much as the rest, as it blended seamlessly with the other words of devotion. To one more learned of the world and its dangers, the symbol would be a warning, for it was fashioned as much the same as any icon of those heralding the martial arts. Even if the represented identity was unkown, at eye level, it was in the traditional place where a warning belongs, declaring this site under protection by someone skilled. To those who knew of the martial world, it designated this temple under the watchful eyes of the Disciples of Duo.

* * *

The majordomo lead the guest through fanciful halls filled with decadence rife among with those who peddled jade and gold coins. Avarice in the form of a large estate, artful statues and such presentation made no impression upon the visitor.

Finally, a door flanked by guards who only appeared bored was opened, allowing passage. The visitor stepped in.

Beyond laid plush rugs, a desk fashioned of uncommon wood, artwork and other antiquities made a frame that drew the eye to the single form behind the desk: a giant panda, both in species and girth, whose gluttony was only surpassed by the flaunted greed. As a matter of formality, he rose and bowed towards his guest.

"Greetings, Tiaki Gro," said the panda with a smile too sweet for a child. "Your reputation precedes you, and does no credit to your beauty. I am Katche Shaum."

The visitor merely smiled politely and inclined her head in a bow. Lights from the paper-covered lamps provided a haze that highlighted and yet shaded the mongoose. The silver embroidery over her silken red cheongsam glittered, the material clinging fashionably to the streamlined body beneath. Faint silver ticking filtered through her black tail, almost like stars winking on a night sky. Hair the color of storm clouds tumbled down her spine, artfully crafted with jade combs to have body behind, while leaving the angles of her face bare. From within the ebon of her features, eyes the color of an oil slick tried to stare through the merchant.

A beat or two of silence later, the panda nodded. "Yes, well then. Business." After taking his seat, hands folded on the top of the desk. "Three days ride from here is a temple. Beyond certain obstacles is an item. One I want."

Tiaki asked, "What is it?"

"That is not of your concern. You will not be the one to retrieve it."

"Ah," replied Tiaki. "So that task falls on the one in the corner."

Katche widened his eyes before chuckling. Behind him and to the left, a figure stepped from the unnaturally deep shadow made by the aimed-away lantern and a changing screen. The dhole's rusty red fur had blended so well with the wall, and his inky red clothes with the shadows.

Katche gestured to the canine. "Tiaki, Ki Om."

The woman nodded in respect and approval to the dhole. "Umbra Clan?"

Ki Om merely smiled.

Turning back to the panda, she inquired, "What is my role in this?"

Katche sat back in his chair, paws lacing in his lap. "The temple is guarded by the Disciples of Duo."

"Ah."

A brow raised from the panda. "You are familiar?"

"Not intimately." That brought a smile to both men, one she ignored. "However, my Master had squared off against two Disciples and had allowed me to read a scroll or two sacred to the Duo that was in his possession. I am aware of the holes in their styles."

"Excellent. Then you are confident you can dispatch one of such an Order." While on the surface a statement of faith, the challenge to the kunoichi's capabilities was evident to everyone in the room.

A murderous smile was shown upon Katche. "You will have your precious artifact in seven days."

As soon as the price had been settled upon, Tiaki left without a word.

* * *

Ki-Om gestured to the symbol of the Disciples and, glancing to Tiaki, swiveled his ears towards her and canted his head.

It did not surprise her that the Umbra Clansman was unfamiliar with the Order itself; it had fallen away from significance eight centuries previous.

"Duo was an ancient master of medicine and martial arts. He theorized that as blood is the life of the body, and with its loss comes death, so too is a man's yang, his semen, the life of the soul and with its loss comes mortality. He birthed Tantra te Tao, the art of conservation and acceleration of yang. A practitioner must resist spilling his seed at all costs, and also must make love for hours without losing his reserves."

A smirk coupled with the incredulity coloring the dhole's expression.

Tiaki laughed. Guessing his objection, "Males are capable of reaching satisfaction without making a mess. Multiple times, in fact. With training it can be achieved easily. Duo believed sex that did not deplete yang would build more yang. As more was retained, the body would grow more powerful, as it was saturated with more blood of the soul, until immortality was reached. From that, an order established itself, monks seeking to reach immortality through Duo's tantra techniques. As their yang built, so did the power of martial arts they used for meditation."

A nod of bemused understanding was offered from Ki Om. Glancing back, he spied the Duoists' symbol, ears suddenly perking. He likely just spotted the icon's resemblance to genitalia, Tiaki reasoned. "Blame it on over-lustful monks with a sense of humor."

With another shake of his head, Ki Om pushed open the door of the temple with care.

Beyond laid the abandoned shrine. Dust-caked bowls of offering were set before an altar where three statues stood. In the center, a faceless rocky figure sat cross-legged, arms held out on either side, a hefty bolder cupped in one hand. Flanking the rocky god stood a smaller statue of a cowled figure with a shepherd's staff and a ten tailed fox.

Tiaki did not recognize the stoney figure, which she wagered was the patron deity of the village. The cloaked shepherd could have also been a regional spirit, perhaps of plenty or watchfulness, one that had disappeared since the village was inhabited. But the third was Kari, Mother Sustenance, wife of the Creator, her role being the continuation of all things.

Tiaki grunted. There was nothing useful here; the shrine was little more than an alcove carved out of the rock. In frustration she turned to Ki Om, opening her mouth - only to close it as she regarded her accomplice.

The dhole was crouched, running his fingers along the floor. Tiaki watched as he walked higher to trace the base of the altar. From there he poked and prodded at the statues, touching everything like he might break it.

When finished he waved her back several steps. First his fingers moved over the Kari statuette, adjusting the placement of her tails. He twisted three tail tips. She realized that those tails were subtly turned askew from the usual depiction. Then he grasped the boulder in the central statue's hand and removed it slowly. When nothing happened the boulder was placed in the figure's other hand.

Slowly the arm sagged under the rock's weight, bringing about a grinding noise from the altar.

Crouching, Ki Om placed his paws upon the altar's front and began to push. He strained but with the faint scraping of rock over rock, the altar's front began to sink inwards. The opening showed a set of stairs going downwards, but the hole itself was too narrow to slide through.

The dhole grabbed hold of the floor's edge and tugged up. It eased away. Removing his mask and head wrap for a moment, the cloth was wedged up underneath the stone. Silence prevailed as he hoisted one end and slid it sideways across the stone on the cloth, before setting the cover down.

Rough stairs, almost just a downward slanted ramp with footholds, angled into darkness.

Ki-Om removed from his pack a black ball the size of his fist. As he opened it, Tiaki spotted along the lid; with it angling down she could see the candle inside the box. Withdrawing the candle, Ki-Om borrowed her torch, carefully lit the wick, and returned the candle to its place in the little circular box. With that out of the way he snuffed the torch.

Darkness consumed the shrine. Opening his little box once more, Ki-Om directed a tiny beam of light reflected off the mirror-coated lid. Angling it down the stairs, he lead the way, sweeping the light across the walls at varying intervals to check for more cunning engineering.

They did not descend far. At ten paces they turned, at twenty they turned again, and light began to seep into the tunnel.

Finally the passage opened into large chamber. Smoother walls befitting a temple's clean architecture bore torches that cloaked the room in ambiance. A narrow staircase curved along a quarter of the room. Inside, vases and incense braziers seemed arranged haphazardly, but to the knowledgeable eye were placed to reinforce the energy flow of the room.

In the center of the room, sitting cross legged atop a mat and cushion, rested a male. Simple clothes and a near-naked trimmed scalp with a queue braid in the back signified him as a monk. It took Tiaki several moments to recognize the species, one long and lanky with butter fur dabbled with a striped face and a long, banded tail. A linsang. The linsang sat motionless, staring at the bottom of the stairs.

The two backed into the tunnel and quickly planned out their strategy. Finally Tiaki removed a rolled up pad and unfurled it, baring a row of vials. Her claws caressed over them before she withdrew one. The syrupy amber contents almost glowed in the pale light filtering in.

It was passed to Ki-Om who was screwing together two pieces of a blowgun. He accepted the vial, collected a dart, and uncorking the bottle, swirled the sharp point in the liquid.

Once the two packed everything up they began immediately. Ki-Om tucking his feet into a small ledge of the architecture that ringed the room, inching along until he reached the disciple's back. Fortunately for the Umbra clansman, he was between two of the torches where the shadows were a hint thicker. The torches dimmed, feeding the edges of lightlessness, providing him a much easier place to hide.

Fthp! With the faint noise, Ki Om's dart streaked towards its target like a diving falcon.

Unfurling with a viper's speed, the monk snatched up the cushion beneath him and flipped it upwards as he rolled backwards and spun. Up and on his feet the linsang was moving before dart and cushion impacted. A silent curse rolled over Tiaki's tongue as she dropped down and sprinted silently across the stone floor after her quarry.

He stopped at the base of the wall, searching the shadows for Ki Om. Behind him the long, banded tail twitched, spun and rippled, a segment of it always in some direction.

Leaping, Tiaki leaned back and curled her legs up, prepared to unleash them in a dual kick. She was within inches of lashing out when her foot found itself in the path of the linsang's tail tip. As soon as she brushed it, the monk turned sideways and lunged backwards, snapping his elbow into her chest.

Air exploded out of her lungs as she crumpled mid-air, hitting the ground with a dull bounce. The monk stepped over her.

While remembering how to breathe, Tiaki could not help but peer over her target's shoulder at Ki Om, already descending from his hiding place like a silent reaper, focused on a felling blow.

The linsang must have been watching her eyes, as his gaze widened before he darted sideways several feet away.

Much to his surprise, it forced the dhole to pull his blade up short or stab his partner. The two shinobi shared a look after Ki Om scuttled backwards while Tiaki rolled onto her feet. This was already going poorly. However they still had a job to do.

Breaths ticked as the three poised, waiting for one to break the tension. It shattered as the monk streaked towards Ki Om. Tiaki kicked into a run, intent on intercepting her quarry.

Except he promptly leaped over her and kept moving.

Immediately the canine skipped back several steps as a paw ducked inside his vest, unearthing three throwing knives. The first snapped end over end at the rushing guardian.

Already in full charge, unable to dodge or parry, the monk jerked his feet out from under him and fell backwards onto the ground. The second knife struck stone as its target began a quick barrel roll - right where Tiaki wanted him.

Jumping, she brought her foot straight into the linsang's path. Only he stopped short seconds before. From there it became a moment's game of her trying to stomp him and he rolling just out of reach. It quickly ended when his side bumped into the far wall.

Tiaki's foot snapped up, only to falter as the linsang wrapped his legs around her stable one and yanked, sending her to the floor. The fall was broken by a fist in her ribs moments before he stood up. Instantly she sought her feet.

Snatching her shoulder, the monk thrust a torch into her chest.

Recoiling did not deter her opponent who swiped the torch in several dazzling thrusts and slashes, sprinkling cinders over her mask, before simply tossing it at her middle.

Fire licked across her breasts and midsection, starting to spread rapidly even as the covering over the kunoichi's hair began to smolder. Frantically Tiaki tore off her hair mask and the chest panel of her shizoko. Yanking the crotch cover free she began beating the flames out of her middle. In disgust she peeled the material off of her loins in completely and discarded the smoking ruin.

Ki Om fared even less fortunate than she - the Disciple relentlessly pursued the retreating dhole. Already Ki Om had a mild limp and was desperately scrambling to avoid the lightning fast strikes interspersed between leaping kicks and pounces. Her quarry favored his long reach and speed, but she needed to get inside those long limbs.

But she wouldn't take him down without getting the poison in his system. And the mission would be fruitless if Ki Om were struck down before he retrieved the precious item for their employer. The Umbra Clansman was as hard to touch as smoke, but he was one to strike from the shadows, not stand toe to toe.

Her target dived over the dhole. As he arced over the ducking ninja, his long, banded tail wrapped around Ki Om's throat. The monk's momentum dragged Ki Om to his knees. Wheeling around, the linsang began kicking his captive in the back, jerking him about with the iron grip of his tail.

Tiaki rushed over to the dart-pierced pillow, flipping it up into her paw. Hooking her toe under a brazier of incense, she snapped it into the air. The monk's head lurched forward as the metal vase cracked him in the back of the skull. He bared his teeth and slowly turned toward the incoming woman.

For a moment, both monk and dhole paused in their struggle to gaze at Tiaki. The standard shizoko, the shinobi uniform for outdoor and night operations, was dark blue, brown, or deep blackish red, consisting of vest, sleeves, mask and leggings. Tiaki, though, had a special one for missions of her specialty.

The front of the vest had a removable panel, allowing her breasts freedom to the air. Her black nipples, tight from her excitement over fighting and the challenge to come, poked out of the grey fur covering her perky, modest bosom in an uneven splash. Below, from waist to upper thigh, the mongoose was bare; grey fur in a relative streak over her crotch and inner thighs presenting the dark mound, glistening a hint in the torch light from her sadistic interest. Behind, the brush of her tail swished over a naked ass.

Ki Om kicking at the back of the monk's knee shattered the pause. It hit, but the linsang snapped his leg closed as he dropped down, catching Ki Om's foot. Falling onto hands and knees, he leaned forwards and kicked backwards with his free leg into the dhole's stomach.

Yet the monk's eyes were facing forwards, catching Tiaki's coming assault. She dropped an axe kick meant for his skull, yet he rolled sideways, dragging Ki-Om behind him in a twirl that twisted the canine's leg roughly and earned a barking hiss struggling through the stranglehold of his captor's tail.

Tiaki lured her opponent back onto his feet. A kick to bait him earned the block, and then he was upon her, throwing sharp blows. The pillow became her shield, blocking each strike seamlessly.

Behind the monk, Ki Om reached into his shadow and withdrew a blade of pure darkness, slicing at the yoking tail about his throat. Back snapped the Disciple's foot, kicking Ki Om's fist. Whipping his tail free, the tip wound around the offending wrist, only to force the umbral blade back at its wielder.

Even as Tiaki tried to distract the guardian with several snapping attacks, he merely blocked and focused on the dhole. Ki Om was forced to release concentration, dissolving the weapon. Only then did their opponent yank the shinobi forwards, kick his forehead, and re-wrap his tail about Ki Om's throat. Once his tail had returned, the monk's attention shifted back on Tiaki.

Wearing an almost amused expression, the monk set upon her. "Your persistence, while commendable, is most bothersome."

At last her feint drew an open-palmed punch from the monk. Up came the cushion, and as his hand hit against it, she struck the back of the blowgun dart. It thrust the rest of the way through the cushion, stabbing into the Disciple's palm. So deep was the biting barb that when he jerked his hand back, the dart stayed in place, tearing through the cushion to bob at the center of his hand.

"Persistence pays in the end," cooed Tiaki.

He staggered back, staring at his palm a moment. In that breadth of weakness, Ki Om tore the tail off his throat and scuttled backwards, taking a deep breath. Then turning the dhole leaped into the nearest shadow and disappeared.

Smoothly plucking the dart from his palm, the monk gave Tiaki an acknowledging nod at the scored hit. Then he stilled, his eyes unfocused inwards. Tiaki knew he was trying to slow the spread of the poison.

This could not be permitted. Given that the dart hit the cushion first, there was no assurance how much poison had rubbed off on the pillow, and how much had made it into the linsang's blood. Not knowing his capabilities, she needed every drop to count.

With a dive towards the Disciple she began a brutal assault that forcing him to fight back. Several moments of attack/counter-attack commenced, neither gaining nor losing ground. It was less about advantage and more an exploration of the other's capacity and defenses. Finally, they broke, circling.

"Tell me," began the monk, "I have not been outside in so long. How goes the Emperor Shojo Wu?"

"Dead," reported Tiaki. Monopolizing on the guardian's sudden expression of mourning, she darted forward to deliver a trio of strikes, finishing with a feint to set up her kick for his knee.

He ducked and weaved, then darted forwards inside her defenses, penning the leg against his middle. "Truly?" he asked as he attempted a vicious bite towards the mongoose, following up with two fast finger-pointed jabs at her throat and chest. "Who is his successor?"

Escaping the assault by the points of her claws, the kunoichi skipped backwards, taking a defensive crouch while breathing hard. "His infant son."

"He had a son?" The neutral expression broke into a smile. "Good blessings to his family."

Throughout the exchange, the monk's breathing had increased. Tiaki became aware of his flushed ears and the jump of his pulse behind the ivory veneer of his throat. A glance confirmed he was aroused - fabric tented within the monk's pants.

The significance of this was not lost upon the guardian either. For the first time his expression showed panic. Tiaki's partial nudity and overall purpose became obvious. Ki Om rammed the point home further; exploding upwards from the monk's shadow to sink his teeth into the seat of the linsang's pants. Down he dropped into the umbral portal, head shaking and tearing as he went.

The desired effect was complete: garment pooled around his ankles, the linsang was left bare to the air. An ivory sheath allowed white-pink flesh to escape, engorged with the aphrodisiac toxins and years of neglect by its owner. Much to Tiaki's satisfaction, her opponent was well equipped; while not stout he was indeed armed with length.

Now that he was primed it was time to reap what had been sown. Shining a toothsome smile at her opponent, the mongoose struck. Out lashed her foot, thrusting between his knees and, dropping and sweeping backwards, she caught her heel upon the pooled trousers, yanking out his footing.

However her opponent had other intentions. As he fell backwards, shoulders twisted, followed by the rest of his body. Before he hit the ground he'd spun in a complete circuit, the motion having wound his pants around Tiaki's ankle before she had managed to pull her leg free of the tangled garment. Once on the ground, the guardian jerked his legs backwards, pulling the startled mongoose onto her back. In less than a breath they had changed places, the monk gripped her ankle between his, hopping and thrashing while trying to twist her leg painfully.

A well aimed throwing knife sliced through the cloth, allowing her the chance to roll backwards onto her feet.

Ki Om crouched inside a trap door that once had been concealed by the mat their opponent had sat upon. Immediately upon seeing Ki Om had discovered the passage, the linsang charged, diving over and rolling under thrown blades.

Tiaki was fast on his heels. Her quarry tried to deflect with a sweeping snap of his tail towards her ankles, but she hopped over it, then snagged the length. Violently he jerked back, trying to yank free of her grasp, but the kunoichi used that force to pull her forwards, riding the furious force to add power to the punch she laid upon the back of his head.

He staggered and turned, fury and desperation in his eyes. She became the sole occupant in the monk's world. He launched at her. Already the distraction had given Ki Om the opportunity to duck inside the passage.

A fierce exchange commenced, the woman forced to back up as he led a steady stream of strikes. Finally he relented an inch, and the mongoose took it.

She kicked wide, very wide, her leg swinging around his hip to hook behind him. In one smooth motion she hopped up, wrapping her free leg just next to the other, nestling their bodies against one another. As her arms pinned his, Tiaki shifted and sank his length into her steaming depths.

For her efforts she earned a startled moan and the sudden, vicious thrashing. Except that every motion the Disciple moved to try and free himself only stirred him within her. Every muscle and curve of the mongoose slid and rolled as though she were shimmying up a pole, hips gyrating in tight, wicked circles along his loins. Flexing her thighs, the warm, wet confines rippled about him like a silken noose.

The disciple stopped thrashing and stood ramrod straight. Just as Tiaki was preparing for something new, he head butted her square in the nose.

With a startled scream she fell off of him, managing to land on her feet only to take the next punch in the breast. That stung long after she backed off. As soon as he was close she sent a vicious kick for the monk's stomach.

Fingers wrapped around her ankle, yanking it high and to the side. "Lightning bursts the dam," snarled the linsang as his free paw thrust forth, fingertips jabbing her loins once, twice, thrice in different locations. Light exploded behind Tiaki's eyes as her mound locked up in a sudden, spasming orgasm that wracked her body in muscle-wrenching pleasure.

Taking advantage of her distraction and weakened knee, the monk kicked her leg out from under her and, wrapping both hands around her aloft ankle, spun. One circuit pulled her along for the motion before he released, sending her airborne, and then skidding across the floor towards one of the far walls.

Eight feet from the wall, the floor suddenly dropped, forming a steep, plunging ramp that put her path directly in line with upwards angled blades lining the wall.

Beyond honed skill and technique lays instinct and luck. To the warrior or the ninja, both are crucial. In times of snap judgment and unthinking reflex, they are the only tools that remain. Instinct guided Tiaki as she slid down the ramp; planting her foot flat, she thrust forwards, slamming and pressing flush against the wall. Luck caught her, allowing feet to fall into the crevice where slanted blade met wall, providing a painful foothold.

Pausing only for a steadying breath, she crouched and leaped upwards, then kicked off the wall, sending her arcing towards the ramp's lip.

Right into the path of a hurled vase.

Palms swept downwards and slapped the vase's top. In that instant Tiaki thrust it downwards as her body curled and jerked forwards, permitting her to steal the vase's momentum for a spin that put her over the top of the ramp.

Landing in a crouch, Tiaki pulled her mask down over her muzzle and bared her teeth. Her opponent merely took a steady stance, the intensity of his expression left somewhat askew by the erection throbbing between his thighs. Behind him the banded tail snapped and swayed like a streamer in a breeze.

She stalked forwards. Yet while the walk was dangerous and poised, a level of sensual sway to hip and tail existed. The distance grew smaller, tensing, until her body was one muscle held. It released in a vicious lunge.

As the Disciple brought up his fists to block, she kicked them and stepped higher, kicking him in the back of the head as she twirled in mid-air over him. Down Tiaki came, straddling his tail and, taking hold of his arms from behind, holding tight. The linsang trashed until her teeth sank into his scruff.

A momentary paralysis gave the necessary edge; pinning down both of his arms with one of hers, the mongoose claimed his arousal in her free fist and began to expertly tease him. Fingers squeezed only to slide up like the flirtations of a feather, the heated silk of her palm pad loving over his pulsing skin. Toxins had left him eager and deliciously swelled, and as she touched his hips instinctively jerked, thrusting into her palm.

Then it stopped. The hold on his scruff had lost its edge and a slowness overcame him.

The kunoichi knew what he was doing. Monks are capable of meditating, going beyond mortal sensation, a mastery of the calmed mind providing massive control over the body. It could allow one to walk over hot coals without feeling little more than warmth, or to utterly ignore the most skilled sexual stimulation.

Tiaki released her grip on his scruff and instead bit his throat.

Rather than seek blood, her teeth clamped down carefully and began to squeeze, cutting off some of his air and blood. While her grip kept his arms in place, nimble fingers continued their fluttering strokes over the engorged arousal. Squeezing the base, fluttering over the shaft proper, allowing her nails to tickle and drag over the very tip only to circle just underneath it, tugging demandingly.

Robbing him of breath and necessary pulse was shaking him out of the meditative daze. With each slide of her digits he squirmed, and a heated breath even passed his lips. Her fist formed a tight circle, pumping over the warm length rapidly, and then dropped down to nestle over his testicles, squeezing them with such care. Those delicate orbs rolled between deadly fingers, her thumbnail dragging down the crease between while fingertips danced across his perineum.

The monk stomped her toes. In the same heartbeat her other foot was likewise treated.

Tiaki's maw popping open in a sudden, shrill squeal. He tore from her grip, spun, and jabbed his elbow between her eyes. Recoiling in pain, she allowing the linsang room to leap straight up, upper cutting her with his knee, then followed through by unfolding his bent leg in a snapping kick to her chest.

A staggering trail ended with her back on the floor. For several moments the world spun for Tiaki. The moment she could move, the woman rolled sideways, jumping to her feet.

He was on her as soon as she was standing, leaving her no choice but to cut a hasty retreat heavy with blocks and dodges. Finally he held back, a moment of anger glaring through the otherwise reserved mask.

Turning her head, the kunoichi spit a wad of blood on the floor. "Do they teach dirty fighting in the monastery now?"

"Monks have lives before entering the Order," he retorted.

Tiaki gave him a bloody smile. Under different circumstances she might have enjoyed his company. For now she was going for the kill.

The next exchange of strike and block went by swiftly. For as soon as the monk left an opening, going for a simple forward kick, Tiaki lunged forwards.

Her palm planted on the linsang's knee, both canceling the kick and using it to spring off of. As soon as she was in the air, the mongoose snapped her spine, turning completely upside down mid-jump. Legs bent, thrust, and dropped forwards over his shoulders until her calves crossed, locking behind his head. Hands snatched forward, she seizing the monk by the wrist to pin his arms down. She had him sealed.

Lips snapped around his spear's tip, forming a wet seal that slid effortlessly down the engorged length. Tiaki's cheeks dented in as she began to nurse as though she were sucking the venom out of a wound, and considering the aphrodisiac toxin coursing through his blood, the mental image amused her. Acute attention was paid to the monk's tip, her lips pulling back to hook underneath the hood's ridge so she could tug on it while heat scored his tip in the form of a constricting tongue.

When she flit across the cleft at his tip, the monk awoke from his surprise with fury. Down dipped his head, teeth aiming to take a bite out of the tender, bared flesh. Tiaki simply kicked him in the back of the head, foiling his aim, before pressing forward to pin his chin to his chest and her steaming mound to his forehead. Between his legs snaked the banded tail, but by simply hiking up her shoulders, it could not wind around her throat.

All the while her oral manipulation hadn't slowed, but sped up; her head bobbed, prepping before she simply slid him back into her throat. All around him tightened swallow after swallow caressing him as her nose nudged around the base of his sheath. Lips parted, permitting her tongue to slink out, probing the opening of his sheath then up to nudge across his hanging fruit.

There was no other option to dislodge her from him. The linsang dove forward, intent on cracking her across the floor.

As soon as his feet left the ground Tiaki's body curled inwards with a snap of her spine. When the force began with her upper body, the momentum continued with the lower and as she jerked forwards in a roll, the monk went with her. His shoulders and back hit the ground hard.

In an instant she was on her knees to turn and straddle him. Without preamble the mongoose sat on his shaft, sheathing it within her. He moaned. From the voice it held pain, pleasure, and frustration. She took that as a good sign.

Reaching inside her vest, Tiaki grasped what she needed just in time: the monk threw a punch.

The slender blade of her stiletto speared through his hand.

A cry sharp and surprised echoed off the chamber walls. Before he could act, she grabbed hold of his free wrist, yanked up the paw and impaled the palm on her spike, threading the steel through both hands.

Body wracked with pain, all the monk could accomplish was writhing beneath her. He started to calm down, to try and stare off into the distance. Thinking fast, she tore her mask off, tying one end to the knife's blade. Her fingers then snapped around his muzzle and, yanking his head upwards, stuffed the bleeding tangle of fingers behind his neck before the mask was tied off. Soundly he could not tug free without alerting her.

Immediately the mongoose began to roll her hips, first side to side as though she were trying to steady herself on a listing ship deck. Her motions started to slide into all four directions when paws planted on the monk's chest, allowing her to roll her weight forwards only to push off, back downwards. Given how saturated she had become during the fight, each downward glide drew a wet smacking noise from the collision of their intertwined middles.

As her body as a whole slid over him, Tiaki's insides rippled with the grace of a pond disturbed by a floating leaf. Muscles clenched as a silk-wrapped fist that bore down on his flesh, bowing the monk's back before it loosened to a flirtatious ring that swept over him like a breeze. Under her motions a normal man could not last long.

Even further the kunoichi cut off resources for her opponent. For Tantra to work, both beings must be open, meeting like two halves to make one whole. That spiritual, emotional, physical bond echoes through them, giving a circuit for the chi to flow. She was blocking that flow of energy into herself, damming it up, forcing all the power back into him. With no where to go, it would build, feeding back into the pleasure he felt with every writhe and sway of her lower body. She could feel it building in him like the weight of water behind the dam, a river pushing against the barrier.

With gritted teeth he moaned. Eyes turned upon her, seething in pleasure and untempered fury. Every time the monk tried to slip into a state of unfeeling meditation, she would slap his face, the motion tugging his wrists, sending pain as moments later her hips sped up, tearing through him with pleasure.

As if his body or Tantric training overcame the defiance of his mind, the monk's hips spurned upwards like a galloping horse. The bucking married the angle and pace of her slithering body. A delighted hiss bubbled past her lips as she accommodated his needs. Arms rose up as fingers locked together, the mongoose tensing them up to throw back and forth, offering a counterweight and added force to the snake-like undulation of her spine. All that power was a pestle and mortar that ground into the monk's loins. The trained body beneath began to buck and roll, displaying the powerful muscles hard at work driving up into her loins.

Tiaki savored the mounting pleasure like wine. She began to drink more heartily as the coupling continued, for her opponent had been soundly reduced to a writhing body with a grip weakened by each liquid shimmy of her spine.

Breathing ragged, the monk thrashed his head, tearing flesh in the process. One last, desperate measure to free himself. It only earned the mongoose's paws planting on his chest, pinning him down. Nails scraped across fur-coated flesh to toy with his nipples, tugging at his body. Finally he sagged in defeat.

As the last bit of his will crumpled he came.

Between Tiaki's thighs came an eruption. To her muted amusement it felt as though he had reserved every bit of his yang. It flooded her insides, scorching hot and powerful, surging with such fury that never seemed to stop. She could feel the heated wetness seeping down the insides of her thighs, soaking the linsang's crotch and creeping up the cleft of her backside.

All of those visceral sensations were mere background to the roar of yang. The dam had broken. The entire chi that had mounted within him, and it seemed all of the power he had conserved for so long, crashed into her soul. There she drank and drank with unquenchable thirst, the power filling her up like a great vase. So greedy was she that as it flooded into her, Tiaki tightened the connection between them, not allowing a single ounce to drip back to the source.

All the energy tore at her, ripping an orgasm through her that was a blink to her glut of chi.

Riding high in the clouds, she reached down and untied the mask from his neck. The blade was removed and wiped off on his chest. For some reason, she let a sliver of power eke back into him through the tenuous link, a mere sip at her sudden oasis.

With that the full mongoose stood without shaking. The power radiated throughout her form, soothing away the searing aches and pains from the Disciple's earlier assault. It settled down into her gut like a full meal and would slowly fuse with her, making it hers.

She turned to find Ki Om watching her with a bundle underneath his arm. The two shared a long look before he glanced down to the unconscious linsang.

A dismissive gesture was all the dhole received before she walked forward with prominent, satisfied sway to hip and tail. Up the stairs she went until, crouching down before her bag, she withdrew a large vial and began to slowly collect the seed clinging to her thighs. It was said that the Duoist yang was most potent due to its concentration. While she had taken that precaution with her womb, the seed would garner a dense price from an herbalist or midwife.

The dhole stood diligently at the tunnel's entrance, casting a wary eye on the monk below. When she peeked up, his tail was caught twitching anxiously.

Finishing her work, Tiaki corked the vial and shouldered her pack. Without words the two left the temple, sealing it the way they had found it.

She spared no look back at her opponent. No money had been offered for his death and she rarely made a habit of casual murder. There was also the likelihood that he could die from losing such vitality or power, or age could creep up to him. The monk may also kill himself in penance for his failure at guarding the object in question. There were many reasons why the kunoichi let him live.

But the most prominent was the potential for retribution. The prospect of facing such a worthy opponent once more had a renewed layer of wetness creeping over the mongoose as she walked through the village towards their horses.