Deadmeat Saga

Chapter 54 – A decision made out of boredom.

The next morning-

Gerhart exited the tent barechested, feeling refreshed. The Goblin Commanders had high strength and endurance, allowing them to continue even when playing rough. It allowed him to blow some steam.

Sitting outside the tent were Havre and Tivnirx, both sitting cross-legged. Havre appeared to be in meditation while Tivnirx was- Sleeping. Lying beside them were Farus and Jasmine.

"Good morning, my lord." Havre exited her meditation, stood up, and greeted.

"Woof!" [Good morning, master!] Farus perked up and greeted.

"Hm?! Hah?! Ah!" Tivnirx woke up from Farus's bark, realizing she had fallen asleep at some point. She immediately got up and apologized, "I am sorry, my lord! I slept while guarding you..."

"It's okay. I should apologize for making you two guard me last night." Gerhart apologized back, feeling guilty.

"It is our honor to protect you, my lord," Havre said.

"S-Same..." Tivnirx said with a stutter, still embarrassed.

"You have triumphed in your dual against our finest women, I see." At this moment, Qold slowly walked over while commenting.

"I suppose I did," Gerhart replied, not shy.

"Seems like she didn't make a move last night after all." Gerhart thought, somewhat relieved.

The last thing he wanted was for her to unleash some high-class succubi in a suicidal move.

Qold nodded to the other two women before opening the tent and seeing the three goblin women asleep on fur carpets, remnants of the battle still covering them. On their faces, she saw content looks.

"Sniff* Sniff*..." Subconsciously, she smelled the thick scent in the air, causing her to shiver in excitement, her yellow eyes turning lavender.

But quickly, she hid those details and left closed the tent.

"Good. You passed. As traditions state, you are now a part of our tribe and Warchief." Qold said.

"Does that mean your tribe will accept the conversion?" Gerhart asked.

"If that is your will. However, there might still be some reluctance, so you might need to do one more thing. If you subdue the female Alpha wolf, it would greatly solidify your standing in the tribe since it is our guardian beast." Qold explained.

"I think I can do that." Gerhart nodded. "Show her to me."

"Of course. Please, follow me." Qold said and walked to another place in the tribe.

Gerhart saw a massive wolf soundly asleep, half-covered by a large tent. As if sensing a familiar presence, the wolf raised its head, but then its eyes dimmed when it saw Gerhat and lowered it again, feeling destitute.

"Venerable Crelm! Greet your new Warchief." Qold spoke to the beast.

Reluctantly, the wolf raised its head, eyeing Gerhart.

"Woof. Rrr." [Hello, killer of my mate and kin.] Crelm, the female alpha, apathetically said.

Unlike the Giant wolves, she did not submit. However, there was no hostility in her voice, just bleakness.

"Hello, Crelm. I apologize for killing them, but there was little choice." Gerhart replied.

"Woof. Woof. Rrr. Woof." [It is survival of the fittest. If they won, you would be dead. However, they failed, so now they are dead. You need not apologize.] Crelm calmly replied.

Although liking her mate and kin, like most wolves, she was not inherently vengeful and saw things as they were. Crird took her pack for a big hunt but died in the end. Should she hate her prey for defending itself and now becoming the hunter? No! That was the truth. In a way, she was far more reasonable than most humans.

"I see. Crelm, I want you to be under my command, just like you were under Crird." Gerhart directly stated his intention.

There was no point in being roundabout. Being direct was the best option.

"Woof. Woof. Bark." [You have similar qualities to Crird and are more powerful than him. You have the qualifications. And the pack likely already obeys you. Fine, you are the leader.] Crelm calmly said, not enthusiastic in the slightest.

"Does that mean you submit?" Gerhart asked.

[Yes, I submit.] Crelm said and closed her eyes.

Gerhart remained silent for a moment before walking over. Without any resistance, Gerhart placed a hand on her large white head with giant antlers and activated his power.

There was no resistance. Crelm let Gerhart use his power despite being able to resist it.

After receiving the corresponding prompt, Crelm opened her eyes, a bit more affectionate but still gloomy. [Master.]

"Crelm, I want you to show your support in controlling the tribe," Gerhart said.

[If that is what you wish, Master.] Crelm said, standing up.

Gerhart turned and looked at Qold, "She now obeys me."

"So it seems," Qold said, unmoved and unaware of what Gerhart just did. "Now that she supports you, your rule is solidified. What do you wish to do now, Warchief?"

"Establish my religion. I want you all to submit to my god." Gerhart told his bullshit reason.

"Without proper reason, our tribe won't willingly submit to a foreign divinity. However, if your god can provide tangible boons, everyone else will undoubtedly submit." Qold said. 

"Everyone else? Not you?" Gerhart raised an eyebrow.

"No. I shall not. At least, not like this." Qold shook her head.

"Even if I can make you very powerful?" Gerhart curiously asked.

"Power is useless if I can't live to enjoy it." Qold closed her eyes.

"It won't kill you, you know." Gerhart frowned.

"That is not it. I already chose a path, and even if I join this religion of yours, I will face the consequences soon." Qold said.

"Are you talking about the succubus bloodline you have?" Gerhart inquired.

"Yes, quite perceptive of you. I chose demonhood, and sooner or later, I will be unable to stay here, cast out to the demonic realms unless I find a planar anchor." Qold said.

"Hm?" Gerhart widened his eyes. "That can happen?"

"Evidently." Qold nodded. "Would you like to speak of the details in my tent?"

"Well... Fine." Gerhart nodded and looked at Tivnirx. " Tivnirx! Have the tribe gather wood for a Statue of Conquest."

"Yes, my lord." Tivnirx bowed.

"Crelm, go with Tivnirx and show your support," Gerhart told Crelm.

[As you wish, Master.] Crelm replied.

"Havre, with me." Gerhart told Havre.

"Yes, my lord," Havre said.

"Lead the way, Qold," Gerhart said to Qold.

Qold nodded and silently led Gerhart and Havre to her tent.

When Gerhart arrived at her humble abode, he saw stringed skulls, bones, and strange stones hanging by the entrance. He also smelled the faint scent of herbs, blood, and sulfur.

"She is a demon cultist, alright." Gerhart thought, remembering such a smell in his previous life once.

"Havre, guard outside." Gerhart ordered.

"Yes, my lord." Havre nodded and stood guard as Gerhart entered the tent.

"You are very trusting to enter my abode so casually," Qold looked at Gerhart enter her tent.

"I don't sense any danger or ill intent, so I doubt you placed a trap," Gerhart said while looking around.

The inside of the tent was what he imagined a demonic shaman's abode to look like. Along with barebone furniture, there were some rough alchemical and writing tools. There were traces of rituals here and there, remnant demonic magic circles, and even a few leather parchments written in blood describing magic formulas.

"So? What do you want to discuss?" Gerhart asked, casually sitting on a fur rug.

Qold placed her staff on the side and sat on the floor, speaking her intentions directly, "Please form a contract with me."

"Contract?" Gerhart raised an eyebrow. "What contract?"

"A familiar contract. Please be my contracted Master." Qold directly requested.

"Why, though? Because of that planar anchor thing?" Gerhart asked.

"Yes. As my demonification progresses, this world will gradually reject me until it throws me out. When that happens, I will end up in the demonic realm, where my fate would be uncertain. That is why I seek to form a contract with you early to prevent this disaster." Qold explained.

"Okay, but why me? Why not one of your siblings?" Gerhart asked.

"They are my siblings, and I am from the succubus lineage, a sexual demon. Disregarding their qualification and willingness, I need to feed on their male essence. Am I supposed to commit incest?" Qold asked back.

"Well, you are not wrong about that." Gerhart acknowledged.

Surprisingly(Or not), like humans, Goblins also detested incest, primarily because it usually resulted in sickly offspring. That was why the Goblin Commanders didn't have relationships with each other and were, by extension, virgins, whether they liked it or not.

Crird planned on raising some unrelated and talented goblins into Hobgoblins and eventually forming a more diverse genetic pool, but he would never see it come to fruition now.

"So what? You want to feed on me instead?" Gerhart asked.

"If you would allow it, yes." Qold bluntly stated. "I sense an overwhelming amount of sexual energy from you, so even if you feed me occasionally, you would hardly feel anything. This energy is highly beneficial for my advancement."

"I see... But is that your only reasoning?" Gerhart asked.

"Of course not. You are powerful, command a Sword Saint, a chosen or inheritor of some unknown outer god, and a member of the Tyrant tribe. I cannot ask for a better master. So please, make me your familiar." Qold said.

"Wait... How? Outer god? And how do you know about my bloodline?!" Gerhart exclaimed.

"Mistress Xenova, my demonic contact and mentor, told me she believes you are related to an outer god and that your female companion is a Sword Saint, the seed of the Sword God. She also said you belong to the Kerus Dynasty's royal family's lineage, the Tyrant tribe. Do I need to ask for more?" Qold said with a neutral expression on her seductive face.

"Kerus Dynasty? Never heard of it. Is it related to my birth parents?" Gerhart mused. "Perhaps I should ask Hope later."

"What is an outer god? And who is the Sword God?" Gerhart asked.

"I don't know. Mistress Xenova didn't explain it." Qold shook her head.

"Hah... Fine." Gerhart sighed and returned to the main subject. "I already know the benefits of having a familiar, so state your terms."

As Deadmeat, he already learned about familiars, explained out of boredom from a talkative master.

In a nutshell, Familiars are creatures from other realms and magical companions for magicians, acting as either temporary or permanent comrades.

If permanent, it could be summoned and unsummoned and is pseudo-immortal, making them valuable and permanent companions. Furthermore, their strength was related to the summoner due to the nature of their body, constructed from the caster's energy. Their primary function was as assistants, teachers, and guides, but they could assist in battles when necessary. However, they needed a binding contract or would eventually return to their home plane.

Of course, familiar contracts were transactions at the core, with the primary purpose being to benefit both sides, with the specifics being up to the two sides. The stronger the familiar's main body, the more it would demand and the less likely it would want to form a permanent contract. Gerhart even heard one could summon legendary creatures if they were strong enough and offered a sufficient price.

"That would indeed make things faster." Qold nodded. "First and foremost, my first demand is your male essence. As a succubus, if I wish to advance my power and bloodline, I must either receive the gifts of higher demons or consume male essence, preferably high grade. Of course, I would not consume an amount that would be detrimental to your health and life. In exchange, I would offer you sensations that only a succubus can bring."

As she said that, she sensually licked her lips, her previously passionless eyes faintly flashing purple with burning lust, a faint, sweet scent spreading in the air. Despite nutting a dozen times last night, Gerhart couldn't help but get hard again.

"Gulp*. So this is the charm of a succubus, hah? No, it could only be considered a half-assed one." Gerhart thought.

"That condition sounds fine, but you must append it. I can't do it at your whim. How about this? If I am in top condition and feeding you won't inconvenience me, I will do it at least once a month." Gerhart suggested.

Qold dangerously narrowed her serpentine eyes, "Every day."

"Too short! I can barely breathe. Every three weeks," Gerhart replied.

"Far too long. Every other day."

"Still too short! 18 days."

The negotiations took a strange turn as Gerhart, the guy, tried negotiating for LESS sex.

In the end, they agreed on once a week at minimum, with more being under both sides' discretion.

"Now that that is out of the way, I will state my second term," Qold said. "When you have the means, I want a research laboratory, sufficient materials, test subjects, access to all academic and magical books and tomes you have, training grounds, and magical instructors."

"Let me append that. I will provide the above when and if possible, but it must not inconvenience or endanger me. If I don't stay long-term in one place, am in a dangerous location, or don't have sufficient financial means, forget about a laboratory unless provided by a guild. Also, the test subjects thing would be limited to monsters or death-sentence criminals. I am not about to send orphaned children or pregnant women as your test subjects, and I certainly refuse to be a test subject. Also, the resources I allocate to you will be with reason, and all research results will belong to me. And finally, if we are in a dangerous location, such as a holy city, don't even think I will summon you, let alone give you these benefits." Gerhart said.

Gerhart agreed to her condition because he saw potential in her as an academic and researcher. Her S-grade Intelligence was no joke, and it would only get higher after her bloodline was complete or she evolved.

"Good." Qold smiled, seemingly satisfied with the result. "Then I shall state my final clause. I want your god's blessings while retaining my mental autonomy. I don't know what kind of sorcery or divine arts you do, but I suspect it is some form of advanced mind control. If you don't even let me keep my mental autonomy, then this contract is garbage."

"Oh, believe me, I want to know how to do that even now." Gerhart warily said. "The most I can offer you is a position called Personal Assistant, which gives you the most freedom of thought. However, even then, unconditional loyalty will be hammered into your mind, whether you like it or not. That is a prerequisite to receiving my powers, and I can't use my powers on those who don't submit. It isn't that I don't want to, but that my god rejects those who don't submit."

"... How long does that condition last? Can you undo it?" Qold coldly asked.

"I am afraid it is permanent. Even if I die, this condition will last forever." Gerhart said, not mentioning it would also kill her if he died.

It wasn't that he didn't want to tell her, but saying it would make him a top-priority target for assassinations if someone overheard it.

"Although I expected something like this... It is a big stone to swallow." Qold closed her eyes.

She now understood what her mistress meant about damning herself.

As a demon, she would be damning herself to serve a higher force unless she struggled and survived against impossible odds. As Gerhart's believer, she would damn herself as his loyal servant.

So the only question was: Who has better terms?

Who would give her better terms? An ancient demon lord with numerous servants, strife with internal struggles? Or a young and promising chosen or inheritor of a god with few followers? Although the former seemingly had more stability, it had bleak prospects compared to the latter.

"If I am damning myself anyway, I don't want to be a mere handmaiden. I might as well go all or nothing." Qold thought and opened her eyes, determined. "Fine. Then make me a personal assistant and never change it, but not before we sign the contract."

"Okay. Then let us sign the contract." Gerhart said.

"Wait! Are you not going to state your terms?" Qold asked, puzzled.

"Do I need to? Once you become a believer, do I even need to go out of my way to do that? After the contract is signed, you only need to become a believer." Gerhart shrugged.

After hearing his words, Qold was somewhat dumbfounded before giving a mirthful smile, "It seems like all my negotiations were just a whimful joke to you."

"Not at all. It would be boring otherwise." Gerhart smiled back.

Yes, boring. After gaining strength, Gerhart felt that forcing his will on someone was tasteless and somewhat beneath him. That was also why he didn't convert the three female Goblin Commanders despite having every opportunity to do it last night. Isn't it better to let them do it on their own volition through merit?

Once Qold is his believer, all tricks and deceptions would be null and void, and she would do whatever he asks, even if not written in black and white. The entire conversation and negotiation until now was just on a whim. He could have even directly skipped it and tricked/forced her into having sex with him, making her absorb so much bodily fluids that she would be unable to resist his control. He could have then made an unconditional contract since she was already his!

And, most importantly, he respected her guts. Few had enough courage and composure to negotiate with him, especially after knowing how dangerous he was.

He wasn't losing out on those terms anyway, so why should he care?

"Hahaha... Fine. Let us write my contract of self-damnation." Qold gave a light chuckle.

She then took out a blank leather parchment and blood ink and started to write using a quill.

Gerhart looked at her writing without blinking and saw that she wrote in Youvamorian.

"How do you know how to write?" Gerhart asked.

"When I evolved into a Goblin Commander, the knowledge somehow flowed into my mind. Mistress Xenova once said it had something to do with the origin of goblins, and our race is an artificial creation by a now-extinct race called the Ancient Goblins. I am unsure how it works, but we automatically learn local languages once we evolve or mature enough." Qold explained. "Now, let us go over the details of the contract."

"Okay." Gerhart nodded.

After discussing the minor details of the contract, Gerhart looked it over and nodded in satisfaction. When signing a contract, there was no such thing as fine print. Both sides had to read and understand the terms. And there was a reason for that.

After writing the contract, Qold started constructing a magic circle, offering a precious ore as an offering.

"I am about to summon the Watcher," Qold said.

"Okay, go ahead." Gerhart nodded, his expression turning serious.

Watchers were higher beings abstract from gods or demons. No one understood what they were, but some believed they were the manifestation of the universal rules. When forming a magical contract between two willing parties, the Watchers were the third party, a completely neutral force. Gerhart knew about them since he saw such a contract once.

However, one couldn't enslave another through it, at least not blatantly. As a neutral force, the Watchers valued equal exchange. Hence, if one party feels the conditions are unfair(Such as being forced by a threat), influenced by magical or non-magical means(Drugs or mind control), and understands the consequences of the contract(Intelligent and mature enough), the contract is null and void, and the materials used to summon them are forfeit. Similarly, only the clauses both parties have read and understood would come into effect.

Both sides must agree before summoning the Watcher lest they waste their time and money.

Of course, a common loophole was to trick the other party into believing the contract was fair through deceit and long-term hypnotism, but that was up to one's abilities.

Nodding, Qold began chanting in an archaic, ancient language.

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