Profane Prince of Domination

Konrad ordered while delivering a batch of orchids.

"As you command, master!"

The tenth elder bowed, before turning into a beam of light and shooting toward the royal guard commander’s mansion. As for the other delegates, they carried similar tasks.

Krann returned to his quarters, leaving only Cobra-Yvonne, Konrad, and the freckled girl.

"What’s your name?"

Konrad asked, ending the brief moment of silence.

"E-..."

"Forget it. From now on, your name is Astarte."

Cut before she could properly introduce herself, the freckled girl was startled. Still, she regained her composure and bowed with clasped hands.

"Thank you, master, for bestowing a name!"

"Mhm."

Konrad then re-examined her while circling her body, the indifference within his eyes making Astarte unable to know whether she should feel delight, shame, or fear.

"You need some physical readjustments. Otherwise, in the future, you might not fit in."

Astarte, who didn’t understand the meaning of Konrad’s words, blinked in incomprehension.

"What do you..."

"Shush. Hold still."

Again, Konrad cut, and without further ado, he cupped Astarte’s cheeks into his hands. Purple mist coated his palms as he kneaded her cheeks, nose, lips, and forehead.

"Huh?"

Astarte wanted to inquire on what the hell was going on through her new master’s mind. But since he required silence, she restrained herself.

Konrad’s following move made her restraint hard to maintain.

His hands lowered to her breasts, which he copiously kneaded just like her face.

"Ah!"

A yelp escaped her lips, and her cheeks flushed in shame. Unable to shoulder the sight, she closed her eyes, surrendering to the ministrations. Konrad’s eyes showed no lust, only the professionalism of a crafter working on his new piece.

With a yank of Astarte’s shoulders, he turned her on one-hundred-eighty degree, making her face the wall as he tended to her rear. Wherever his hand went, she could feel a strange force spread through her body, causing a comfortable sensation to soothe her from within.

"Done."

Konrad stated and stepped back to admire his work.

"What did you..."

Astarte began. Feeling her chest heavier and her hips wider, she couldn’t help but wonder what sorcery had been used on her body.

But before she could finish her words, Konrad waved his hand, summoning a large two-meters tall mirror which landed right before her.

"See for yourself. I never had to do this before because it was never necessary. But for a first try, I must say I’m quite proud of myself."

Seeing how Konrad stroked his beardless chin in a show of self-satisfaction, Cobra-Yvonne rolled her eyes.

And as she stared into the mirror, Astarte was flabbergasted. Failing to recognize the reflection that stood before them, her eyes widened in disbelief.

"Is that...me? H-how could it be?"

She stuttered. Though the freckles and facial features were similar, the woman in the mirror stood leagues above the previous her in terms of beauty. The face was masterfully carved with perfect, full lips and a lovely pair of almond-shaped, hazel eyes.

Her already slim nose and waist didn’t change much, but they looked more entrancing. Meanwhile, her butt was not only rounder but curled upward. If that wasn’t enough, her chest now easily filled a DD while her auburn hairs shone with a luster of their own.

The girl went from average to peerless in less than five minutes.

Even Yvonne was forced to admit that she’d not expected such a shocking transformation.

"How did you...can all experts achieve this?"

Astarte asked in stupor, causing Konrad to negatively shake his head.

"I’m afraid this is a family trade, transmitted only from father to son."

Though stronger at the Phantasm Lord level, Flesh Transformation was actually a Dream-Weaver ability. However, Konrad never had a reason to use it beforehand.

"T-thank you...master!"

Human beings all cared about their appearance in a way or another. Though she wasn’t vain, it would be a lie to say Astarte wasn’t delighted to see herself turned into a mortal goddess.

"Mhm. You can think of it as my first gift. Now, let’s discuss proper business. I have already assessed your cultivation talent, and it is very low. You have a blue human bloodline. Though enough to step onto the cultivation path, without additional chances, your future achievements will be minimal.

At best, you can reach the Arch Rank in a lifetime. Completely useless."

Konrad callously began. And as he spoke, he analyzed Astarte’s reaction. Seeing that though distressed, she didn’t lose her determination, he nodded and carried on.

"To remedy that, I can offer you a Mutual-Obligation contract. As long as you fulfill my terms, you will receive the listed benefits. The contract ends when both parties’ terms are fulfilled.

My terms will be straightforward. Unending growth. Until you reach a certain cultivation level, you cannot stagnate and forever must keep progressing. If your progress stops before that level, the contract ends, and I get back all I gave you.

Your life included.

As for the cultivation level, only I can know the rank. Are you willing?"

The startling words took Astarte aback. But having reached this point, how could she willingly persist in mediocrity?

This was not an opportunity.

It was The Opportunity.

The one that knocked only once in a lifetime. Regardless of cost and consequences, she wouldn’t let it go!

"I am willing!"

She exclaimed, the unwavering determination clear within her voice.

"Good."

Konrad stretched out his hand, summoning demonic circles out of thin air. With his index, he drafted the contract in demon language, causing lines of purple, eldritch characters to appear before Astarte.

Again, she was startled, and this time, feeling the demonic force filling the room, she couldn’t help but suffer anxiety and apprehension.

Having heard of demons tempting mortals with promises of wealth, power and beauty and recalling both Konrad’s supernatural ability and the word "contract," a dreadful thought emerged within her mind.

"Could you be...the king of hell? Am I selling my soul to a demon?"

Astarte asked, her entire body shivering as she struggled to restrain her fears.

"For now, I’m just an heir to the throne."

Konrad seriously replied, dumbfounding the human girl.

"Though, I must confess that you’re not selling your soul...yet."

In the Infernal Realm, selling one’s soul to a high-ranking demon noble for eternal servitude was a privilege many fought for. After all, those contracts often came with mighty boons for the servants while a direct connection to a high-ranking demon triggered a status leap.

For example, not many Infernal Gods could disrespect even the lowest of Talroth’s contracted servants. And those who could possessed too high a status to find the need to.

At the same time, high-ranking demons were very picky with their contracted servants, only choosing those with at least the potential to reach godhood and testing them through Mutual-Obligation contracts.

Finding someone who, like Konrad, handed out Master-Servant contracts like candy was, unheard of. And while he’d not been raised in Hell, Konrad was starting to realize the need to rarify his contracted servants. In any case, he already had the Phantasm Orchids to enforce obedience.