Profane Prince of Domination

Rajan’s grief-stricken howl thundered throughout the arena, awakening the dazed onlookers to the oddity of this scene. The God Executing Immortal Sword had chosen a new master. A new God of War had appeared. But in the following second, the sword left its chosen to fawn on the master of diabolism.

For the knowledgeable - Night included - such a baffling occurrence required an immediate explanation. Otherwise, their common sense wouldn’t survive it!

Alas, as Konrad raised his hand, the sword didn’t seem intent on explaining its reasoning. Without a sound, it dropped in his palm. Tightening his grip around the handle, Konrad rested his sword against his shoulder and cast an amused gaze at the aggrieved Rajan.

"What did you answer?"

Konrad leisurely asked.

"To Kill!"

Rajan directly replied, unable to see the problem in the words. But hearing this, Konrad couldn’t prevent a snicker from escaping his lips.

"Apologies but that is my answer, not yours. For the truly chosen, all answers are correct. It is your will not your words that determines whether the sword approves of you, or not."

Konrad began, causing Rajan’s eyes to widen in disbelief.

"You mean to say..."

"Indeed, if the sword disapproves of you, persist. Stay true to your will, to your core aspiration, and exterminate any sliver of doubt in yourself. Only then are you qualified to wield it. In the past, I didn’t delude myself into thinking I brandished the blade for some vain heroism.

I picked the sword to kill. That was all."

As those words echoed, Rajan finally realized his flaws. No wonders the sword first said "Insufficient." The first answer wasn’t "Incorrect," but from the moment he wavered and opted for something else, he’d already failed. But why then did the sword still accept to lend him its aid?

As if seeing through his thoughts, Konrad pursued.

"Of course, the quality of your answer only determines how much of its strength the sword will lend you. As for becoming its Master, that...is impossible. Whether you choose to imitate my answer or persist in your own, obtaining its assistance is as far as it goes. After all, the sword is bound to me in blood and soul.

So long as I breathe, I am its master. The first, the last, the one true God of War."

Konrad’s words echoed in Rajan’s mind like a thunderclap, his jaw dropped and his eyes went bloodshot.

"What a joke...to think that I counted on it to oppose you...what an absurd joke...why? Why? I am not willing to accept this!"

Rajan growled his discontentment while rising from the ground.

"Chthonian Primogen, you are the most depraved creature of all times, the ancestor of diabolism, the monster that keeps the vilest of villains on tiptoes! Why does the sword accepts you as its master? Is it not the protector of the titan race? Why? Why? WHYYYY?!"

The more he raged, the quicker Rajan fell to the madness assailing his mind. His eyes reddened further, and veins bulged all across his forehead.

"IT’S NOT FAIR! IT’S NOT FAIR! The grieving titan souls demand justice! My house’s women demand salvation! NOT FAIR! NOT FAIR! Where is righteousness? WHERE IS JUSTICE?! WHERE IS RETRIBUTION?!

I CAN’T ACCEPT THIS! I CAN’T!"

As his throaty howl boomed, Rajan leaped toward Kornad, baring his hands in a desperate move as his eyes teemed with madness. Alas, his move couldn’t hamper Konrad’s smile, and as his hands neared the Profane Prince’s neck, they collapsed into grey ashes.

Locked by a transcendental force, Rajan’s body remained trapped mid-air, unable to advance or to retreat.

"Who decreed that monsters couldn’t win the game? Who decreed that the fell couldn’t triumph over the self-righteous? Who decreed that diabolism couldn’t obliterate godhood?"

Konrad inquired as Rajan’s arms and feet collapsed into grey ashes.

"I am the Profane Prince. In my world, Devils reign and Gods grovel. In my world, light surrenders and the chthonian governs.

I am the Profane Prince, and so long as I stand, the justice of the fell shall stretch across eternity."

Konrad declared and clenched his fist, causing the thrashing Rajan to vanish in dispersing grey ashes. Silence returned on the scene, a silence broken only by Konrad who raised his sword toward Heaven’s sky.

"On this day, I, Konrad, Jade Emperor, Chthonian Primogen and Profane Prince raise my sword in defiance of vain hypocrisy, and announce that throughout the Three Realms, the era of diabolism...officially begins!

To whoever dreams of opposing my hegemony, give it your finest shot!"

Lifted by a surge of diabolic energies, the words grumbled within all deities’ ears, forcing many down their seats as they quivered before this show of fell might. Some, however, showed no dread, and chief among them was a blood-haired woman clad in crimson armor.

Stepping forward, the woman crossed space to appear above the arena before making her slow descent onto the platform. Her blood-red eyes stared right into Konrad’s icy blue hues, never leaving them as she nimbly dropped seven meters away from him.

"I oppose it."

Blood Nether declared and stretched out her right hand, causing a crimson greatsword to appear in her grasp as her peak-stage Primordial Goddess cultivation base exploded!

"Crack* *Crack* *Crack*

Though untargeted by its pressure, the legions of deities felt their breath shorten, their heart rate shoot up, and their seats crumble beneath them!

On the platform, the ground stretched with a flurry of cracks as Blood Nether aimed her sword at Konrad.

"Dragon Warden, Konrad, Profane Prince, the time has come for you to pay me just due."

As she spoke, red light swirled around Blood Nether like ever-spinning tendrils. And across the arena, all could feel their life force dwindle, channeled by Blood Nether through her Immortal Blood Spirit lineage.

In the past, the Immortal Blood Spirits, the Dao Spirits and the Tribulation Spirits were known as the three Commanding Lineages. Immortal Blood Spirits commanded life. Dao Spirits the Dao, and Tribulation Spirits ruled various Tribulations!

With her lineage, Blood Nether not only possessed inestimable destructive power, but could effortlessly channel the bloodline strength and life force of those within the arena!

Yet, facing her sword, Konrad only had one thing to say.

"The only payment I owe you is my rod down your cunt."

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