"AAAH!"

Legions of nearby men and women recoiled in fright while the man gargled on his blood and spasmed no end. But for better or worse, all were shocked to see the torn part grow back and replace what he'd lost.

Yet, even as he regained his speech abilities, the barbarian lord felt no joy! Instead, he broke into cold sweat, and when picturing the days to come, insurmountable dread filled and squashed his staunch exterior. Terror-stricken, he soiled himself!

"Your majesty, mercy! Mercy! I was muddled, please show mercy and grant me a quick death!"

The man implored in desperation. Alas, his pleas fell on deaf ears.

"Mercy is the plight of the feeble. Only the feeble must rely on shows of mercy to secure image and seat. This Tyrant does not. As the first immortal without connections to my house, congratulations, for an eternity of damnation."

Konrad replied in a relaxed tone, without sparing the man another glance, and while the guards dragged him toward his new fate, his torn tongue still dangled on the ground.

Before such development, the last recalcitrant men no longer hesitated, and proclaimed in tandem:

"Your majesty, please take our wives!"

Then received their green hats. But now, all lay on their knees, with none daring to rise from their bowing stances, and as tension permeated the atmosphere the guests quivered no end.

"Hahaha, friends, statesmen and dignitaries, please do not let this small matter startle you. I understand your loyalty but am ashamed of receiving such tributes. Now, I can only do my best to leave your women full to the brim.

Come, come, let me offer you a toast!"

Konrad replied and with a wave of his hand, a wine cup full of fragrant liquor appeared before him. After raising the cup toward his kneeling officials, he brought it to his lips and emptied it in one go.

"Thank you, your majesty for your graces!"

The legions of kneeling men proclaimed like a trained division!

"You may rise! Daphne, what else do you have in stores for us?"

Konrad inquired, and while the trembling souls returned to their teetering feet, Daphne carried on.

"Hum, hum. Thank you, husband. Men on the left, women on the right. You two groups will have different functions. But fret not, delights await all."

Daphne instructed and with three claps, made the tens of thousands of guests soar into the air. The ladies on Konrad's thighs were no exception. The males formed a division on the left and the females, another on the right. The imperial palace's maids then moved into action, surrounding the female guests to replace their elegant dresses with strappy bras and panties designed by none other than Daphne.

In less than three breaths of time, all female guests' wardrobe change ended, and the male guests were horrified to see their women dressed in the most frivolous outfits of the Ancient Crystal World's history!

Although the majority of females didn't bat an eyelid before trading inwardly completing the trade between their men and the Profane Prince's divine cradle, being dressed in such unconceivable outfits before legions of astounded eyes still filled most of them with glaring shame.

Some bit their lower lips, others clenched their thighs or shifted their gazes to avoid the tiniest eye contact. Seeing this, Daphne's lips broadened into an impish grin.

"Oh, no need to be shy. We're all family, really. Imperial Eunuchs, please help the men into proper clothing."

Daphne pursued, and legions of imperial eunuchs flooded the celebration grounds to surround the men and force them into matching sets of green pants. Now, the ladies with strappy black underwear faced the bare-chested men in green hats and pants.

Daphne nodded in approval, and again clapped, causing the mist clouding an eastern area to disperse and reveal floor pillories and vertical crosses equipped with chains and cuffs.

"Now, the game begins. Men, you have fifteen seconds to tie your ladies in either a floor pillory, or a cross, then stand beside them without a sound. Whoever fails to do so in the assigned time will spend the first night on a wooden horse.

As for you ladies, do know that this is an elimination game. If they catch you, you're not getting any cock tonight. Flying is prohibited and you can't leave celebration ground. Go!"

*BAM*

Daphne explained, and instantaneously, as if possessed by savage beasts, the men lurched toward their ladies to seize and bind them in either floor pillories or against crosses. Alas, the ladies didn't stay idle, their cultivation bases erupted, and they ran, ducked, leaped, spun, punched, clawed and kicked to avoid their husbands!

On the scene, who wasn't a man of wealth and status? Never did any of them believe that on the first day of "revelry" they would be attempting to tie their women on bdsm devises. Worst, they all resisted!

"Flippant slut, come back here!"

A man snarled in indignation. Alas, his wife only responded with a kick to his groins that ensured his failure of the task! Such scenes played all around, with wives and consorts feigning submission to attack their men at their weakest spot while others used all their means to avoid captivity.

Since no one on the scene was below the Semi-Saint Rank, fifteen seconds were, in fact, a tremendous amount of time during which a lot could happen. Alas, the fact of the matter was that the females' cultivations were all substantially inferior to their respective men's. Therefore, only through craftiness could they avoid captivity.

As the fifteenth second ended, and Daphne clapped her hand to mark the competition's end, she wasn't startled to see that of the more than ten thousand women, only 958 managed to evade their men's capture. The rest all thrashed in either a floor pillory or against a cross.

Seeing this, she nodded in approval.

"Roughly eight percent succeeded. Not bad. Congratulations; in the future, all of you have a chance to remain in the imperial palace. Of course, position will depend on later performance."

Daphne commented, and naturally, her words possessed Konrad's backing.

And as he sipped his wine glass, his eyes swept the 958, trying to identify pearls suitable for the harem.

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