Profane Prince of Domination

Within her chambers, Yvonne sat crossed-legged, solidifying her drastic cultivation boost with her eyes shut-close. But as soon as Konrad stepped in, her eyes opened and locked onto him. Seeing him, her lips curled into a smile, and she stood up.

Then, without warning, she flew at him with a punch!

*BAM*

Undisturbed, Konrad blocked it with his left forearm, the smile he wore unchanged.

In a flash, she assailed him with hundreds of blows which he blocked without effort.

Yvonne then raised her knee, slamming it toward Konrad’s abdomen, but he stopped it within his right palm, then knocked off her fist to grab her by the waist, while holding her thigh within his right hand.

"Astounding reflexes, astounding speed, astounding flesh. I didn’t expect I’d fall so far behind."

Yvonne appraised with a contented smile.

"What can I say? When even destiny is on your side, rapid progress is a must. From now on, you’ll have to work extra hard."

Konrad replied without letting go of her.

"Conceited. But it’s fine. Who said destiny wasn’t tamable? I won’t let you get too full of yourself."

Yvonne pledged while cupping Konrad’s cheeks in her hands.

Without further delay, he lifted her in the air, letting her wrap her legs around his waist while he took her lips, and their tongues intertwined in an ardent kiss.

As he brought her to bed, his hands trailed her back, and by the time they reached it, he’d already lowered the straps to rain passion on her neck and chest.

They spent the rest of the night in relentless romping sessions, letting primal desires drive them and make up for the lost time. In that night, words had no place. Only endless moans, grunts and the sound of flesh meeting flesh in tantalizing mating, echoed.

Meanwhile, the two great factions were swept by tumultuous waves.

...

For the first time since the death of their founders, the first time in one-million years, the Celestial Church and Infernal Cult leaders met for discussion.

The cult and church leaders occupied the primary seats while the elders stood a step below. All were matched in ranks, and their faces full of gravity.

Even the cult leader, the blood fiend Draven Torul, couldn’t hide the concerns shining on his face.

The church leader, the sun spirit Anatol Wirth was no better. In fact, inwardly, he was one-thousand times worse. With his maimed son trapped in the Holy Continent, a continent Sages no longer had access to, how could he not be full of worries?

Moreover, although he tried to convince himself of otherwise, that lunatic of a "Profane Prince’s Mortal Avatar" didn’t seem like the type to speak rubbish. Perhaps he never planned to execute the captives, but since he dared say he would flay them daily, he probably would.

There was no time to waste.

With the last Holy War nearing, Anatol didn’t care about who held the prime disciple position. However, never could he allow his flesh and blood to suffer mishap.

Saving Erhardt was his top priority. And for the sake of that cause, he didn’t mind forming a temporary truce with the Infernal Cult.

"Anatol, you and I are the enemies of a lifetime. I believe there are words we needn’t speak. The two of us know exactly why we’re here."

Draven began while keeping his eyes locked on Anatol.

"Indeed."

Anatol nodded in approval before carrying on.

"The situation has spiraled out of control. That man managed the impossible feat of snatching the Tower for himself and is now its master. Thanks to that, he managed to conjure an Anti-Divine-Power Ward which prevents us from stepping into the Holy Continent.

But in the process, he also revealed his depth. With that information now clear, we have nothing to fear. I propose we first dispatch emissaries to discuss terms.

If he’s willing to trade, we can leave it at that...for some time."

Anatol’s words pulled an approving nod from the celestial elders.

However, the Infernal Cult’s side didn’t budge.

"What if he isn’t?"

Draven immediately asked, the words causing a frown to flash on Anatol’s face.

"Then...we can only use extreme measures. I advocate a joint assault of our strongest forces beneath the Divine Rank. A host so startling that its mere sight will force all the Holy Continent’s denizens on their knees.

We each dispatch seventy-two hundred Crossed Tribulation Saints, four-hundred-fifty Star Connecting Saints, two-hundred-seventy Star Manifesting Saints and ninety Star Fusing Saints led by fifteen Quasi-Sages.

Add to that eighty-thousand Saints beneath Crossed Tribulation."

Hearing this, all within the room were petrified.

This was more than ninety percent of each faction’s overall forces! Legions that should only appear during the Holy War! Although he’d anticipated such a strong reaction, even Draven was forced to admit that the words rang his eardrums.

On the Infernal Cult’s side, only the third cult elder wholeheartedly agreed with this stance and even found it pleasing to the ears.

"I know you think we’re overdoing it, but the enemy can’t be underestimated. As we’ve seen, his Ancestral Glory is dreadful and can obliterate Quasi-Sages. In fact, the average early-stage Divine Seed expert would find it difficult to survive.

Only by combining the strength of our armies in a battle-formation can we crush that advantage and trample that man.

Afterward, he will turn into lamb on the chopping block."

Draven sighed but nodded.

"I agree..."

Draven began, but before he could finish his words, Berken’s voice echoed.

"This fight is a joke. You may be inclined to lower your faces for the sake of impudent juniors, but we Serkars are unwilling to do so. Our forces will not participate."

Berken’s words brought a weighty silence on the scene, and all eyes turned toward him and the Serkar elders.

"Great elder, this matter has already transcended the boundaries of -faces.- It’s now a question of faith and dignity. I hope you can forget your pride to avoid undermining the war effort."

Draven declared in a mild but commanding tone.

"We can dispatch the Barbarian Continent’s secular forces to support the war effort. Sixty-million troops that will dive into the Holy Continent while the main forces confront that youth.

In this way, you can split his attention and increase your odds of success. That’s the best I will offer."

All Barbarian Khans were in one way or another related to and controlled by house Serkar. Therefore, the Barbarian Continent’s secular world was, for all intent and purposes, ruled by them.

...

Night made place for dawn, and Konrad stood up, leaving the comfort of Yvonne’s arms to dive into his next operation.

First, as promised, he ordered the three captives paraded naked in the streets then slowly flayed across the next three days.

Meanwhile, he summoned one of his God-Hearts, and using it as anchor alongside the powers of his Divine Stolas Physique, connected himself to the plague, and took control of it.

The plague was two days from starting, and according to Gulistan, after seven days of germination, demons aside, it would kill all non-believers beneath the Transcendent Rank, within the Holy Continent.

However, instead of reversing it, Konrad changed its properties, then directly triggered it!

On that day, in various corners of the Holy Continent, thousands of commoners and cultivators alike would see dozens of pustules grow on their bodies. Carrying with them crippling diseases and horrendous pain.

The people were startled, even more when they realized that simple contact with the afflicted was enough to immediately contract the disease.

Chaos soared, and the plague thus began. Fulfilling the prophecy of the Profane Prince’s Envoys!