Chapter 306: Arwen

“…”

Instead of replying to her bold words, I turned walking back to my throne, sitting on it with a satisfied sound, one knee over the other, and stared back with the usual devilish smirk.

“I ask you the same question,” I replied leaning my back at the throne, silk bikini glimmering like sin baptized in moonlight, draping me in the kind of power and arrogance you can’t bottle. “What are your qualifications, experience and talents?”

“Convince me why I should keep you.”

“Eh?” the elf girl blinked at me like she couldn’t believe what I was asking, her brain probably shut down. I imagine she never expected a divine being to reply to her bold question with a question. Most gods would explode with rage at her arrogant tone by now, but not me.

I flipped the script, thanks to my short time with my sister Victoria in the trial. This kind of situation happened many times when she was hiring people to work on many of her projects. When some arrogant punk came in acting like they owned the place, Victoria always managed with few words to flip the situation from ‘We need you’ to ‘Why we need you.’

It was a power play, and I fucking loved it.

“Ahem…” the elf adjusted her non-existent glasses and crossed her hands across her chest hiding her pretty tits. I think she didn’t mind being naked or she didn’t realize that she was standing in her birthday suit.

“Well, obviously I’m talented at planning, arranging, and organizing,” the blonde elf spoke, trying not to show her embarrassment in her voice, it was cute. “I have a thousand years of experience managing an entire world.”

“Oh… how interesting,” I interjected, my voice laced with amusement and a touch of skepticism. “A thousand years, you say? And a world too, how did that happen? Do tell, I’m all ears.”

“I….” she hesitated for a second as if choosing her next words carefully before letting out a long sigh.

“To tell the truth, my creator was a god of sloth, he slept all the time and created me specifically to manage the world in his place,” she spoke calmly now, arms uncrossed, her posture subtly shifting from defensive to deliberate—as if revealing this wasn’t some humiliating truth, but a calculated fact of her existence.

“Then… what happened next?” I tilted my head, licking my lips, “How did you end up as a slave? Didn’t he pay you enough? Or was there another reason?”

My curiosity was how she ended up under the protection of the Nexus.

“Another god challenged my creator in a world vs world battle, and since my creator was the god of sloth, he didn’t even bother preparing for the fight, in fact, he didn’t even help us during the attack,” she said letting out a sigh, “In the end… we lost.”

“…” I kept silent, hearing her tale, and watched carefully how she reacted. The elf remained calm, collected, and unabashed. Every emotion had a purpose in her face—her eyebrows lifting slightly when she recalled a particularly sad memory. Her smile was faint and calculating, eyes sharp. This elf was a politician, a ruler, and a damn good one.

I liked her more now, I still needed to break that facade and plant a few elf babies in her womb, but for now, I’m happy with her.

“As for how I ended up as a slave,” she continued, “since I managed the entire world I knew about the Nexus of the gods, and with a trick I managed to convince my creator to sell me and some of my kin to the Nexus, saving us all from the impending doom.”

“Oh… that’s quite an achievement, a smart plan,” I smiled. “Arrogant but smart, you did well.”

“Ah… T-Thank you,” she was stunned by my compliment, her cheeks flushing slightly with a mix of embarrassment and pride. “I did what I had to do to ensure our survival. The Nexus offered us protection, and in return, we served. It was a necessary sacrifice.”

“Of course,” I said, standing from my throne, walking down to the elf, and with a flick of my hand, a small round table with two chairs materialized between us.

“Pain is necessary,” I replied sitting down, and waving to the other seat to invite the elf to sit down too. “It may hurt now, it may seem pointless now, but I can tell, I can see. Your sacrifice was worth it.”

“Indeed, my lady,” said the blonde elf, staring back at me with those impossibly deep ocean-blue eyes that were way more intense than before.

She lowered herself into the chair like a queen accepting a throne she once held in her own right—back straight, chin high, every movement so measured and deliberate it practically sang of old-world nobility. Naked as she was, there was nothing submissive in the way she sat. Her legs crossed with grace, not modesty, and her hands folded neatly in her lap, displaying no fear, no shame, only control.

‘She’s perfect for the job.’

“I forgot to ask,” I said, waving a lazy finger and manifesting an assortment of fruits, meats, wines, and cakes on the table. “What’s your name?”

“Oh.. right,” the elf said. “How rude of me, my name is Arwen, once steward of a world that no longer exists, it’s an honor to meet you, goddess…?”

“Morgana,” I replied, my voice smooth and commanding. “And the honor is mine, Arwen. I have a feeling that you’ll fit perfectly in my domain.”

“I…” she was about to say something, but I cut her before she could.

“What are your terms of employment, Arwen?” I leaned closer to the table.

“…” Arwen narrowed her eyes at me, studying me for a moment before replying, “I want a salary and I accept only faith points.”

“Interesting,” I was slightly surprised by her demands. Faith points are currency exclusive to gods only and now a mortal is asking to be paid in them. In a case like this, no god would accept, and if not for the Nexus protecting this elf, she would have been ripped to shreds for demanding this a long time ago.

I kept quiet, thinking, the more I talked with the elf, the more I liked her.

“Can I ask why you need Faith points?” I wondered, and for a moment her eyes lit up, as if my curiosity was enough of a reason however she managed to keep it cool and act professional.

“I need to buy back the rest of my kin from the Nexus.”

Ah.

That was it. The hidden fire.

I stared at her, watching the subtle flex of her jaw, and the way her nails curled just slightly into her palms. Calm on the outside, but underneath? A burning, ironclad will. Not just a clever politician. Not just a planner or steward. No—this one had claws. And she intended to use them.

“For a naked slave,” I said slowly, swirling my wine, “you negotiate like a devil.”

“I was created to govern a world,” she replied, her tone respectful, but firm. “And I intend to earn back what was lost.”

Damn!… I’m having a hard time resisting the urge to throw her on the table and claim her virginity right here and now! Yes, she’s a virgin, a thousand-year-old and she never had sex? No one touched her.

‘Sob!… poor girl… Sob!… don’t worry big sister Morgana here will help you.’

“I, Morgana, goddess of breeding, blood, night, and war,” I proclaimed, my voice clear and strong. “Would like to offer you a position, I’m looking for a steward, someone to help me manage my world.”

I waved a hand, creating a parchment scroll out of my divine energy. A contract with all of the conditions and requirements.

“This is the contract, read it and tell me your thoughts.”

The contract was simple enough, a basic employee agreement with terms specifically created for Arwen’s working hours, conditions, and salary.

She’ll work for five days a week with two days off unless emergencies override it. I left the salary open for negotiation since I had no idea how to value faith points. The contract also included many basic stuff, like a house and the like.

However, three things stand out.

First: I’m offering Arwen her freedom back. If she agrees, I’m ready to remove the slave mark from her right arm and accept her as one of my mortal subjects.

Second: I help her buy back her kin from Nexus.

Third: which was the most important thing I even wrote in red, was of course. SEX! Her virginity and her first child would belong to me.

“…”

What? A hot blonde elf that gives the vibe of a ruthless mistress that would step on you with a cold, emotionless face and demand you worship her every waking moment of your life.

If I passed up this opportunity then I don’t deserve my title as the goddess of breeding.

“…” Arwen didn’t move for a long moment.

The parchment hovered in the air before her, humming with divine authority, golden runes coiled around its edges like serpents—coiling, waiting, alive. A contract of power, yes. But also of vulnerability. It was a beautiful thing, and I’d poured just the right amount of seduction into the ink.

She read it.

Her eyes moved over every line with mechanical precision, absorbing terms, weighing implications, and parsing clauses like blades being counted in a duel. When her gaze landed on the red-lined clause—the one claiming her virginity and her womb—her lips parted slightly. Not in outrage. Not in horror. But in surprise. Also, she blushed slightly but managed to hide it.

A slow breath.

A deeper look.

And then, she raised her eyes to meet mine.

“Your offer is generous, goddess Morgana,” she began, her voice steady and composed. “But I have a few conditions of my own.”

“I’m listening, Arwen. Let’s hear your terms.” I leaned back in my chair, a smug smile playing on my lips.

“First, I want assurance that my kin will be safe and well-treated. I do not want them used as pawns or bargaining chips. They are to be given the same opportunities and freedoms that I am offered.”

“Agreed. I will ensure their safety and well-being. What else?” I nodded, finding her request reasonable.

“Second, I want to negotiate the terms of my… intimate duties. I understand that my virginity and my first child are part of the deal, but I want to set the terms and timing of these encounters. I will not be a mere plaything; I want respect and consent to be mutual.”

“Arwen my dear,” I leaned flashing a sexy seductive smile, “we are one big happy family and I want you to be part of it.”

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