《CHAOS BORN》


 1. Beginning of a new life

    Hisface scrunched up as he gazed at the holographic panel.


    Yep, there was no mistaking it.


    The change seemed so real that he wished it weren¡¯t.


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    Name: Nero Orias Lilin


    Affinity: Life


    Job: Alchemist


    SP:176


    Charm demon (20%)


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª-


    ¡°What have all my efforts been for all these years?¡±


    Sighing heavily, Nero slumped back onto his worn-out bed, the tired creaking of the wooden frame echoing in the small room. The dim light filtering through the window revealed the exhaustion etched on his face. His mind raced, figuring out how he ended up in this peculiar situation.


    A first-year high schooler who suddenly chanced upon this world. He was a typical reincarnate in this magical world.


    However, there was no truck-kun, the Goddess who gives cheats, the kingdom facing a demon king needing a chosen hero, or any other bullshit that came up as the reason for his rebirth.


    After spending endless hours pondering the matter, Nero resigned himself to the fact that this birth event was something that he was currently incapable of figuring out because of his limited abilities and understanding. So he chalked the whole birth event to an unsolved puzzle in the back of his head, and as for cracking it, he just threw it over the bucket list of things to do in life.


    He had tried, but his memories proved to be his greatest obstacle. The early recollections of his childhood were fuzzy.


    His mind in those times was bouts of consciousness, like a weak flame in the darkness that occasionally flared up. Even simple tasks, like moving his body or forming coherent thoughts, were a hassle for him.


    Reflecting on the past, he struggled to recollect any specific details from his childhood before turning eight.


    Nero concluded that some mishap during his rebirth must be responsible for everything. But in the eyes of everyone in the village, it was enough to pass him off as a total failure, except for his granny.


    She never lost faith in him.


    She brewed some weird potions and fed him regularly, which tasted worse than botaur shit, but hey at least they seemed to do their job.


    By the age of six, he regained his ability to speak and move, resembling a normal child. As he turned eight on the night of the Harvest festival, he experienced a remarkable recovery, with most of his memories from the other world settling in.


    It wasn¡¯t easy nor fast, rather a slow growling process.


    Apart from the shitty start, his life could be considered quite pleasant. His granny, a revered figure in the village, held the esteemed role of main priestess. Devoting herself to the care of the sacred grove, she spent her days teaching the young children or overseeing rituals. Their house, fit for a priestess, stood out as one of the most impressive around the village. Money was never a concern. At least it should have been for Nero, as he hardly remembered a day when he was tight on funds. But we will get to that soon.


    With Granny¡¯s vast collection of books, she made sure he had every opportunity to educate himself, teaching him language, history, healing skills, potion making, and, of course, the boring ass theology. She also revealed her plans to send him to the city to enroll in an academy, so she was never stinky for his education, ensuring he never lacked knowledge.


    He didn¡¯t have any parents in this life, either. But at least he never felt lonely.


    He had his granny. Her presence was a constant comfort for Nero, as for the first time, he felt familial love. Through her tireless efforts to nurse him back to health, she filled his life with knowledge and affection, giving him a sense of belonging.


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    More importantly, this world was filled with magic, dragons soaring through the skies, and terrifying magic beasts roaming the unknown. It¡¯s a place where divine beings exist for real. Yep, the real deal. Not like the fabricated one designed to manipulate the masses from Earth, but true divine deities. Those who could respond to prayers, bless their followers, perform miracles, and also punish the evildoers.


    Yeah, He wasn¡¯t buying the good god part much, but Nero was convinced they were real after getting up close and being an active part of the blessings.


    It wasn¡¯t all sunshine and rainbows. Humans had a high mortality rate and an average lifespan, reaching merely sixty-five for civilian people. The reality that this was happening in a world with great healing magic and a decently developed medicinal field showed the dire states.


    The different religions were also spreading their influence among the masses, each vying to prove their divine god¡¯s unrivaled benevolence as the ultimate savior of humanity.


    These Religions, alongside Nobles and Ascenders, held a firm grip on human society. Be it wealth, laws, culture, or morality, they decided and shaped it.


    In short, they were the bigwigs who call shots on how shit worked around here.


    It was a hard concept for Nero to digest, but one he learned to live with.


    Overall, it was still awesome. The mere possibility of wielding a superpower was enough to hype him out. And this world was still untouched by humans in the genuine sense. Their presence was akin to a small fish in the vast ocean. That means tons of uncharted terrains existed where the taste of adventure awaits in the corner with unknowns like those deep creatures of the depth.


    His adventuring spirit was stroked along with a burning desire to be strong and roam in this alien world unrestrained.


    So Nero fully embraced and fell in love with his new world.


    Specifically, it started when he saw the Ascension ceremony during the harvest festival for the first time.


    People lined up to the sacred grove for their fortune to be read. If lucky, they could be blessed to have a compatible path. The difference between those who gained no path and those with it was huge.


    In the first case, you have severely lost an opportunity, and this Ascension ceremony itself could be considered a last chance for these common folks on the outskirts of the kingdom. As for the latter, they have a minute chance to be awakened.


    Even if they can¡¯t, merely having one is already enough. A person who has gained a compatible path as a peasant holds the opportunity to be a farmer, one who owns the land and cultivates it.


    Well, not exactly owning the land, but leasing it from the bigwigs for a lifetime.


    Only then can they build a new house with viable costs.


    Otherwise, they have to pay sizable income to the temple and get support from them. Then seek the village head to find a suitable spot and build everything from scratch.


    It is a cumbersome task that also strains one¡¯s pocket.


    Though it¡¯s still better than living in a cramped house with all the family.


    Ah, I wandered off-topic. Let¡¯s get back to the guys who had gained a compatible path. Their potential is their value, whether for a marriage, a job, or standing in society. Meanwhile, those who haven¡¯t gained their path through the Ascension ceremony faced an uphill battle compared to their peers.


    Those who have gained a path only have to adhere to it. Doing tasks that complement their path will yield progress, opening a more advanced version of the path.


    To Nero¡¯s brain, all this translated was that people of this world could awaken a job, and completing the corresponding job quest meant leveling up. Meaning they could unlock a higher version of said job.


    That sounded like a classic RPG setting to his ears!


    Nero didn¡¯t know exactly what job he was going to get. But to land a combat-oriented job, he was determined to make the most of his past life knowledge to his advantage. He regularly did all the exercises he remembered to make himself sturdy while trying meditations from fiction novels to gather mana.


    But the results were disappointing.


    No matter how many hours of attempts he put in on meditations to gather mana, he fared poorly, marking him clearly as average.


    Undaunted by his failure, Nero shifted his attention to becoming close combat, aka a warrior job. It wasn¡¯t like he didn¡¯t want to be a mage-type and cast a volley of spells, but his talent in the area was not up to par to fuel his dreams.


    Nero summed up his gaming experience and concluded that being fully proficient in a wide range of weapons alongside training his body would increase his odds. So he didn¡¯t waste any time and started begging Granny to buy weapons to practice.


    Granny reached out to Craft Woods Village, the nearest settlement, to place a custom order for a batch of throwing spears, which she then collected from the caravan.


    He didn¡¯t understand her choice, but she spelled out it was the preferred weapon for hunting. So he just practiced with it.


    In a couple of months, the satisfying thud of his javelins hitting their target echoed in his ears.


    With newfound confidence, he approached Granny to buy him a dagger. Then, in a few more months, he followed it with his request with a plea for a melee spear. Despite Granny¡¯s initial resistance, she relented after a little huff and puff. The breaking point was when he uttered the words ¡°weapon-type gear,¡± resulting in Granny¡¯s temper blowing up.


    She gave Nero a lengthy explanation of how money doesn¡¯t grow in trees, followed by a lecture on financial management. Granny¡¯s verdict on that day was that it was time for Nero to start earning his keep around the village, which he could use as he saw fit for his current needs or save up for his future. As for the Gear, it will depend on his Ascension ceremony. If it¡¯s necessary for his path, she will arrange for them to be forged, tailored to his path, through the priestess of the sacred grove in the city he wants to move to. Until then, he should forget about it.


    When Granny remained staunch in her stance, Nero was forced to find a source of money for his ventures or devise a better plan to secure a warrior¡¯s job.

 2. My Cheat

    It wasn¡¯t like Nero hadn¡¯t thought of the obvious, like training under someone professional or engaging in combat.


    For the first point, no one in Agroville village fit his needs, and neither did anyone was up to be a worthy sparring partner nor were there any brawls that gave him a chance to intervene since the village head and Granny resolved any disputes here maintaining no situation escalated to unnecessary lengths.


    Going out of the village was something Granny ruled out, so seeking someone was also out of the question. And no skilled warrior would come specifically to the outskirts of the kingdom to train him.


    The closest to someone like a trainer he had was Alvin¡ªthe taciturn guardian who came here for only two reasons.


    To patrol the Agroville peripheries from the Crafts wood village, once in two months. He would stay here for less than 3-4 days checking signs of magic beast activity or any threat that may need his attention. Alvin was never on board with the idea of Nero disturbing his duty, but in consideration of Granny gave an occasional spar or a pointer.


    On the other occasion, he will be here to oversee the Ascension ceremony alongside his wife Mrs. Rafaella, making Alvin even more busy just as much as Nero himself.


    Overall, Alvin didn¡¯t feel great about Nero for being pesky in his duties, while Nero felt the same as his special senses gave out Alvin as weird.


    Ultimately, Nero grabbed whatever he got from him and focused on other venues for better results.


    Namely, on earning money and his deus ex machina or cheat power if you call it.


    The first thing he did after gaining his memory was to check any signs of a system or anything remotely similar, and Nero was not disappointed. To his delight, he discovered a magical wobbly tattoo the size of a curled baby fist. It was constantly in motion, changing, shifting, and transforming itself. At its most stable state, it transformed into unsettling circles with an ¡®X¡¯ at its core, accompanied by four disarrayed thorns adorned with runes tangled and gnarled.


    Nero didn¡¯t mind how it looked but was deeply disappointed with what it revealed.


    Whenever he focused on the tattoo, a holographic panel would materialize, visible only to him. It displayed his full name, affinity, SP (which he deduced stood for system points), and a line showing Charm demon with a progress bar next to it.


    Nero after scraping through all the books he could find on the subject guessed the progress bar corresponded to his dormant Demon bloodline abilities.


    Charm demon.. sigh, talk about bad luck.


    Although having a demon in his family lineage didn¡¯t bother him, Nero was infuriated by the specific demon he was connected to and what power it brought to the table.


    Charm Demons, commonly known as Incubus for males and Succubus for females, had a notorious reputation for all the wrong reasons.


    Incubus were ugly gremlins that used magic to disguise their appearance, hiding their grotesque forms and vile desires all to seduce young and married women. Enamoring them with sweet words, and false promises, taking the best years of their lives, and then casting them aside like an old glove! And if rejected, bearing ill will, they crawl into homes with their powers empowered by the darkness of night, dragging the innocent and dainty maidens to the unknown, forcing them to bear their offspring.


    This is at least how local folklore narrated and gossiped about them. They were often painted as villains in the stories to scare the womenfolks from venturing out in the night. The wild stories usually claimed the demons¡¯ nightly deeds to be real while others believed no evil could trespass under their Goddess¡¯s watch. But all of them had something in common, none dismissed their existence.


    Nero¡¯s bullshit recognition radar spiked up, telling him that all of it seemed like made up. It wasn¡¯t like he was no stranger to myths surrounding Incubus from his time on Earth. He always regarded them as fabricated stories created to shift blame onto fictional entities by influential individuals to hide their sins. For example, the nobles or clergy may commit all the nasty stuff but lay it on the doors of demons.


    But hey this was a different world. Maybe the tales were true. Perhaps demons are ugly, capable of kidnapping and violating innocent women. And just maybe, he might have to do it too.


    Ah, what am I saying? I refuse to become a sex offender after being reborn in a magical world. Or would he?


    Nero pondered over the matter. The easiest and most known way to awaken dormant bloodline powers is to stimulate them with corresponding powers.


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    If you had a fire path creature¡¯s bloodline in you, you could consume the fire beast¡¯s specific parts to strengthen the bloodline¡¯s prowess further.


    But there was another method that was known to him, albeit less effective than the popular methods, but was still good enough to awaken your powers. It was to take actions similar to the being of the bloodline you possessed, as in you should act like how that creature would. The source material he read listed some crazy theories to back up the dubious claims that warranted immediate medical attention.


    Nero couldn¡¯t quite figure out what this acting part meant. What does that mean? If you had a Botaur beast bloodline, are you supposed to graze in the fields while saying moo~ moo~?


    Regardless of the method chosen, the amount of bloodline existing within you determines the results, and how strong your bloodline¡¯s power can be is directly correlated with the creature itself.


    The quantity of bloodline you possess and the quality of the creature that you trace lineage to can heavily affect which power you get and what you can do with it.


    Nero had gleaned all this information about bloodlines and demons from books Granny had deliberately kept hidden away from his eyes. He wasn¡¯t sure if she put it away from him since they were simply full of crap or it was some forbidden knowledge.


    So currently, he didn¡¯t know whether the wild claims made in the book were true.


    Moreover, even if the claims held some truth, it wouldn¡¯t be much help, since Charm Demon¡¯s powers and Nero¡¯s style were incompatible.


    According to the books, all charm demons¡¯ powers were tailored to make people enamored by being desirable. What you can do heavily depends on other people. To Nero, relying on the influence and desires of others was unacceptable. He didn¡¯t want his actions and dreams to be dragged down by others, nor did he desire to rely excessively on external forces. He desired to depend on himself and forge his path towards strength and growth. Therefore, the powers of Charm Demons held little appeal to him.


    Even if he wanted to, it wasn¡¯t like he would be getting parts of an Incubus to consume. And as for acting like one was essentially asking for a severe beating. If he were to pull some stunt in the village and get caught, the enraged villagers would rally with pitchforks to screw him over. Granny may choose to banish him or disown him altogether. In short, the rewards were not worth the risks.


    The other way to use the system was to earn SP points. Nero couldn¡¯t pinpoint exactly how system points seemed to be rewarded, but his efforts in probing were not fruitless. The usual one seemed to do the trick: killing. Killing a new creature would earn points, but the points dwindled significantly when killing the same creature repeatedly, eventually becoming a mere numbers game. The calculation of points also seems to consider the life force and level of threat posed by the creatures.


    If Nero gathered enough points, he could exchange them for Ascension techniques, blueprints for gears, and information on the potions and rituals for Dao Essence formation.


    Unfortunately, the most lucrative task for earning points was awakening bloodline abilities, as the system consistently rewarded 5 points for every 1% increase. However, bloodline awakening was not an option for Nero, rendering the system less helpful for him right now.


    So he decided to hunt everything he could near Agroville village to grind points and try his best to land a combat job. If he can land a combat job, he will become an adventurer and enter a guild with ease once he moves to the city. Being part of a guild there will provide him with the chance to engage in monster-killing quests, which will also earn him system points to pick up Ascension techniques from the system.


    Nero knew that he was betting all his hopes on getting a combat job, but if everything goes down without a hitch, he should be fine.


    Huh, look how that turned out. He glared at the panel in front, wishing to tear it off.


    Alchemist. It wasn¡¯t an awful job at all. Loads of people would want this as a path to be chosen.


    An Alchemist can be called a failed mage with one set of spells in possession they are good at. Their expertise seems to lay in brewing poisons and potions, creating gears and chimera-like creatures. At first glance, this seems outstanding, but other specialized jobs could do the same with better results.


    An apothecary could make better potions and poisons outclassing alchemists. While an artifician does a better prospect of creating gears and chimera-like things seemed more like an enigma possible only using the abilities of an advanced alchemist pathway.


    In summary, they are a jack of all but masters of none.


    Worst of all, apart from being noncombat, this job seemed skewed towards understanding and deducing knowledge of things around you and using them rather than gaining knowledge by the job itself and applying it.


    Jobs like apothecary or artifician could instinctively gain knowledge and muscle memory of their domain, while alchemists had to understand these things through trial and error.


    Nero saw alchemists as researchers who worked tirelessly in laboratories and immersed themselves in books to uncover something new. On the other hand, jobs of adjacent pathways appeared to focus on applying existing knowledge to achieve rapid results. He was sure not the former, and neither did he like the prospect of cooping up in the room to discover an elixir of life.


    This job will limit my opportunities and close many doors for me. Most guilds would not turn him down, but that was to support and enlist for non-combat stuff, not to get him on the battlefield. On the front line, his job and his skills would drag down the party, so he needed to have other qualities.


    Sigh, I have to focus on getting a suitable Ascension technique before joining a guild and keep polishing my healing skills.


    That was one more point he didn¡¯t understand.


    Out of all the paths, why did he become an alchemist specifically? Why not a warrior job? Despite his extensive medical training, why didn¡¯t he end up with even a healer job? Despite being someone who rarely handed out compliments, even Granny gave Nero approval for his skills, commenting that he only needed more practice before being granted a license.


    Whelp, the worst case was his bloodline fucking things up and earning him a weird job. That didn¡¯t happen. Maybe that¡¯s the silver lining to take away from what happened.


    Sigh¡­so in the end, is awakening my bloodline the only way for me then?

 3. Decision to be a Hunter

    Nero had taken care of any beast he could get his hands on near the village, including a lesser minion porcine beast. He has long realized his strength can severely limit the number of points earned through killing creatures.


    Even now, he gained most points from passively advancing bloodline abilities, not from the blood and sweat he shed.


    Working on a grittier path does not translate to better results. He wasn¡¯t some stubborn mule with dogmatic principles. Nero subscribed to being flexible and changing as the situation demands. He would gladly walk on the path of light, doing good deeds and being a hard worker filled with kindness as long as it benefitted him. But if not, he had few qualms before being cold and ruthless.


    Nero knew what he had to do now.


    Now then, what does it mean to act like a charm demon?


    Charm demon, as the name suggested, must mean the core part was to gain benefits selflessly from someone through pure charisma or manipulation.


    Nero figured the biggest contributor to his bloodline advancement was Granny, who had helped him relentlessly. But she also seems to fill out the maximum amount he can reach without doing the vile deeds an Incubus would pull off. It wasn¡¯t like Granny had stopped taking care of him or helping him out, but bloodline progress had reached a plateau for around two years.


    What are these benefits that a charm demon is supposed to gain? He wondered, his fingers idly tapping against the wooden table.


    Which one is it? Materials, power, status, sexual favors, or all of them.


    Charm demons are notorious for being indulgent in sex. Why not visit a brothel if their power is related to sex? Is there a reason for charm demons to seduce someone?


    There had to be a reason for charm demons to seduce someone, a purpose beyond mere pleasure. He should try to woo someone in the village to see what happens.


    But who? Nero always kept his distance from villagers. He couldn¡¯t risk slipping up and revealing his true nature as someone reborn. No matter how good he acted, he knew some mistake was bound to occur.


    The villager¡¯s views were deeply rooted in conservative teachings. If they were to discover a child with unique knowledge and viewpoints, they wouldn¡¯t applaud him as a genius but rather report him to the temple, fearing an evil spirit possessed him. And since it was a real possibility, he couldn¡¯t exactly blame them.


    Thankfully, they were not exactly kind to him during his early childhood, so Nero, being indifferent, was just considered being as a rebellious teen by adults. As for his peers in the village who tried to either cozy up to him or tried to teach him his place, a well-aimed sucker punch in the face was enough. Especially so for the latter.


    Above anything, Nero being under Granny¡¯s wings was enough for people to leave him alone and turn a blind eye to most things he did.


    Sigh¡­I always thought keeping my distance from the villagers was a good idea. Now it had come back to bite him.


    Nero¡¯s brow furrowed as he contemplated his limited options.


    If I suddenly display interest or attachment to someone, villagers might view it as suspicious. For the same reason, he couldn¡¯t show any interest to anyone suitable for marriage. Granny might misunderstand the whole thing and push for his wedding. So the best bet for it is to be with someone already married. This way, if things blow up in his face, he will be let off with a beating, otherwise he has to cough, cough Man up and take responsibility.


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    Another point to consider is that the person has to be reasonably invested in their marriage. Most women in the village see him as a catch. And if his Alchemist job is revealed during the Ascension ceremony, most people would have second thoughts. Being an Alchemist might not be ideal for Nero, but it has the potential to provide a middle-class life in a city in the future. At the very least, everyone knows Nero would move out of the village, so they will consider him an olive branch to cling onto until they reach their destination. Once safely reached in there, they could always find a better branch. This didn¡¯t sit well with him.


    He needed to find someone who wouldn¡¯t raise suspicion if he spent time with her. They had to be married and don¡¯t consider him a serious partner worth jeopardizing their marriage for. And on the off chance that they were discovered, they should part ways rather than stay together.


    Nero knew only one person in the village who fit the bill.


    But I already turned her down, though.


    Ugh, if I had known how my job would turn out, I wouldn¡¯t have pushed away her advances.


    Phew¡­ no more crying over spilled milk. I should focus on what I can do now, rather than what I could have.


    When Granny had cut off his funds, Nero looked for any other opportunities he could get around here. He could have tried working in the fields, but it would take all the time and steam out of him in a day. That means no time for practice or anything else.


    He tried to be a butcher, but the one in the village refused to teach him the craft, nor were the villagers pleased to let him work with their livestock. The villagers were displeased, believing that Nero was demeaning the priestess and himself by pursuing a job other than pleasing the Goddess.


    Nero wanted a gig that earned him a decent sum without disturbing his training and study. But alas, there was no such thing. So he focused on hunting things that could be sold to the villagers or the caravan.


    Being a hunter has its highs and lows. On the positive side, there¡¯s the thrill of the chase and the satisfaction of bringing down challenging prey. Hunting allowed Nero to get used to the wilderness and combat mode while learning valuable skills like patience, tracking, and marksmanship. Above all, he could earn system points.


    The bad part was that the entire thing was a hit or a miss. Some weeks He may have successful hunts and be able to sell the game meat, furs, or other animal by-products for a profit. However, there are also periods when the game is scarce, and He returns empty-handed. He could spend days with nothing or a big catch to dwarf the half-year earnings of a worker in the field.


    None of the beasts here were easy to deal with. Despite his best preparation, most creatures beyond the village¡¯s safety net posed a lethal threat. Others cunningly snatched the bait, outsmarting his carefully laid traps without setting them off. Nero had been through so many close calls that he learned never to underestimate an enemy or drop his guard in a fight.


    All this meant an uncertainty that his income as a hunter fluctuated and couldn¡¯t always be counted upon. Money was something that Nero needed to keep up with his expenses for buying and maintaining his weapons, armor, footwear, bait, and trap equipment required to hunt in the village.


    Nero came back in a full circle now and had to look for another job that suited him once more. After a long search, he finally got an offer that met all his expectations.


    If someone asked who was the most successful man in Agroville village, none had to think twice before answering it- Carlos, the peddler. Carlos¡¯ path as a peddler has been longer than Nero¡¯s age. Over the years, the man diligently built his career from scratch found love, and married a stunning woman from a nearby village. The house they built became the envy of the villagers, and now Carlos seemed to be planning to move to a city.


    When Carlos and his wife came up to him to tutor their young son, Jacob, Nero found the offer too alluring to decline. The timing was left to Nero¡¯s discretion, and the money provided was more than reasonable. The only condition was to prepare their little brat to qualify for an academy in the city. Initially, they had wanted Granny to take on the task, but upon getting a clear-cut refusal, the couple sought out the second-best option - Nero.


    His days as a tutor were mostly smooth sailing. The eleven-year-old Jacob might be the frivolous tyrant of brats his age, but Nero¡¯s aloof nature he maintained and reputation as a cold-blooded hunter by villagers seems to have struck fear in the boy¡¯s heart. This made Nero¡¯s job relatively easy.


    Jacob took most of his instruction seriously even if he hated it and the kid was smart enough to learn most of what he taught.


    The only person who gave him a minor hiccup was Mrs. Sharron, Jacob¡¯s mother, and the lovely wife of Carlos.

 4. A Goalpost with no Goalkeeper

    <div>


    Mrs. Sharron¡¯s life seemed almost too perfect from the outside to Nero.


    Her husband¡¯s job as a successful peddler meant they had a solid financial situation as a rock.


    Mrs. Sharron also had a fruitful career that worked perfectly with her husband.


    She had gained her path as a florist and used it to cultivate flowers to produce perfume, body oils, and decorations for all events in the village. Carlos used these as his signature products to strike an opening into the circles of nobility.


    The couple had worked seamlessly over the years to build their careers and home. Their joy was complete with their precious child. With plans to move into a city, her life seemed completely blissful, with no holes left unfulfilled.


    Except that was not the case.


    Being a lucrative peddler ensured the family never had to worry about sleeping on an empty stomach.


    Carlos was also an easy-going guy with an amicable nature. He would get his lovely wife anything she wanted from the finest silk to the new jewels that were making waves in the upper echelons of rich women.


    But the man himself was not present.


    Carlos would be out of the village for most of the year, being present only when the trading caravan would be anchored around here.


    Nero also figured Carlos got that chronic back pain that came as a bonus for wagon drivers. All this meant something was missing from Mrs. Sharron¡¯s life, something that her husband was supposed to give her.


    The male residents of Agroville village also knew clearly that there was a void in Mrs. Sharron¡¯s life, a void they could fill, fulfilling the role typically reserved for her husband. Yet, for any simpleton who mustered the audacity to knock on her door, she would seize her broom and mercilessly crush their misguided hopes.


    Throughout the years, Mrs. Sharron¡¯s unwavering devotion to her husband had earned her admiration from everyone, including Carlos himself, who praised her for patiently awaiting his return while caring for their young son.


    So was that it?


    Were Nero and the men from the village doubting a faithful housewife?


    Was he reading too much into it? Maybe he had misinterpreted her friendly attitude.


    But Nero knew better.


    Hehe.. She can fool anyone in the village for this matter except for me.


    All bloodline carriers will gain powers of the being they trace lineage back to in proportion to the amount of bloodline awakened.


    Nero¡¯s only inherited ability from his Incubi lineage at the moment was enhanced senses.


    An Incubi¡¯s senses.


    The power allowed him to sense people¡¯s dark desires. His senses, tailored specifically to the dark desires and vulnerabilities of women, granted him an insight into the odds he held over them.


    Of course, these senses weren¡¯t absolutes. Nero was not getting some yes or no answers, but mere intuitive feelings.


    Mrs. Sharron¡¯s rejection of all men until now was easily understandable. The woman was as prideful as a peacock and simply looked down at them. How could these country bumpkins who never stepped out of the Agroville village catch her fancy eyes?


    Then what about me? Nero idly taped his fingers over the table while weighing over the reasons. Was Mrs. Sharron attracted to scholarly men? No, that can¡¯t be it. Nero felt strongly from his interaction she was a practical type of person who saw education as a means to an end. So, that couldn¡¯t be the reason. Perhaps it is an effect of his bloodline powers that he has yet to figure out. Or maybe... Nero leaned back from his chair, turning his eyes towards his reflection in the mirror, illuminated by the ethereal glow of moonlight.


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    Within a few breaths, he straightened up, shaking his head. There was no need to speculate about the inner workings of her heart. All that matters is that my Incubi senses hinted I have a chance at this.


    With no goalkeeper guarding the post, Nero decided to take a shot.


    Now then, how should I kick start this affair?


    Since she had already shown her hand, I will let her know I¡¯m interested too.


    And he had a simple plan in mind for how to accomplish that.


    Nero took out a stack of papers with black and white drawings that seemed to be printed on it. He looked at his creation with pride.


    Darn, it was a hassle to make. Everything from conceiving a storyline to hand drawing each page, and even applying spells to achieve the look of professionally printed pages.


    This would be the key to his idea.


    An Ero manga!


    Nero¡¯s idea was simple. He would entrust his Ero manga to Jacob, who would then pass it on to Mrs. Sharron. She will see this as a change in his attitude and interpret it as a green signal.


    Nero knew his plan had more holes than a block of Swiss cheese.


    For example, why the fuck would Jacob hand over an Ero manga of all things to his mother? And why would Mrs. Sharron take these as a green signal?


    Nero¡¯s first point rested on Mrs. Sharron¡¯s personality. She was an overcontrolling mother who never seemed satisfied with leaving her child to his own devices. She decided what he wore, what he ate, and even when he shat. The last one was over the top, but you get the point. The chances of her overlooking the manga or Jacob successfully concealing it from her were close to nil.


    As for the second question, the answer lies within the manga¡¯s theme itself.


    It followed the classic trope as old as time, the story of a guy going after the needy mother of a close friend. To make it more spicy and familiar, he infused the story with a similar dynamic between himself and Jacob. Nero has also outdone himself in drawing it, making it raw without the least bit of censoring. Such attention to the tiniest details would have been impossible for a simple country bumpkin from Agroville.


    But Nero was from a digital age where millions of porn were a mere click away from his fingertips. He had seen it all.


    In all languages, shapes, skin tones, ages¡­ok maybe not all ages. Definitely not all ages!


    I swear I never looked for any weird stuff on the web.


    Damn it, focus on the present.


    He couldn¡¯t afford to dwell on his innocent internet browsing history.


    The next part is super important. Take deep breaths.


    Phew¡­ Regardless, he couldn¡¯t deny that he had done an exceptional job on the manga. Its quality was indistinguishable from a professionally printed book sourced from the city. This was a crucial point.


    If things took a turn for the worse, it should only appear as if Nero had obtained the material from a fraudulent peddler in the caravan. It must not be associated with someone from here or seen as his creation. If it came to light, that Nero came up with this material on his own, he would be labeled as a deviant who needs immediate attention. However, in the latter scenario, he was just an innocent young man duped by an unscrupulous merchant from the city. With new merchants continually arriving in caravans to explore fresh markets, no one could trace it back to him. He just had to be mindful of the details he would give out.


    This was Nero¡¯s attempt to soften the blow, in case his plan failed.


    Now let¡¯s add the finishing touch. Focusing on his mana and spell, he concentrated on the paper stack he placed inside the book cover.


    Alchemists had a single set of magic they were proficient in. That was Transmutation magic.


    The four spells Bind, Split, Haste, and Delay formed a basic array of a beginner Alchemist skill set. They were combined as a combination of two or more to create the spell Morph. These spells were the bread and butter of an alchemist. Their success heavily depended on alchemists¡¯ understanding of the matter they were working with, the results they were trying to achieve, and the spell itself.


    As Nero channeled his mana into the spell, a radiant white light enveloped the book. He slowly felt his sense pick up the minute changes. The pages became firmly attached to the book cover as if they were always one. He felt his focus and mana strain as the spell entered the final stage. The book slowly lost its crisp, clean strong pages and the new book smell. It gradually started to show signs of wear, such as slightly softened edges and gained a more muted scent. The book cover lost its vibrant colors, altering towards a slight fading on the cover.


    Success! Nero looked at his final product with a beaming smile. This was a combination of bind and haste spell. He had to work innumerable times to ultimately grasp the spell and result he wished to bring forth.


    Darn it, I still suck ass at the haste spell. I have a subpar affinity towards spacetime. If this was something like animal or human skin, I might have done an even better job with my life affinity.


    Hehe, I wonder how Jacob and Mrs. Sharron react to an Ero manga on human skin.


    Nero picked up his creation from the table and slowly flipped through the pages to check for abnormalities.


    Seeing no discrepancy in the book, he put it away safely and made his way over to bed.


    Now I can only give it away and see how it all unfolds.


    <div>

 5. Lighting up a Volcano

    Nero walked back briskly after his tutoring session with Jacob.


    Today was payday, and he just received his payment from Mrs. Sharron for his tutoring services. But that wasn¡¯t just the only special thing today.


    He finally made the move. He had passed the ero manga to Jacob.


    To make it seem like he was not simply giving it away, he offered it as a reward to Jacob if he scored high on a couple of tests he was going to give. The brat was not buying into it initially, but with a few subtle suggestions about the reward being something a grown man would appreciate, he finally fell for it.


    Nero didn¡¯t forget to remind Jacob that he was only lending him the secret forbidden book for a limited amount of time and had denied the right to pass it on to others. He also caringly advised as a good big brother to tuck the book away securely while leaving the house.


    He hoped by pressuring the brat a bit he would act suspicious enough to warrant Mrs. Sharron¡¯s attention.


    The first thing Nero did when he came home was to put the money in his little penny bank. He has piled up a decent sum. Initially, his savings were meant for unforeseen expenses at the academy, as Granny would take care of most of his costs. However, now that his job was revealed to be non-combat, he realized the likelihood of Granny purchasing him a weapon gear was slim. As a result, he shifted his focus and began collecting money specifically for that purpose.


    Setting the money safely inside, he shook the penny bank. The clanking sound of coins sounded like music to his ears. With a small smile, he put down the penny bank, confirming it was three-quarters full inside. This was his money, one he earned with his efforts. Should I buy a new one when the trading caravans arrive? I could fill this up if I keep tutoring Jacob for three more months.


    Lost in his thoughts, he walked into the bathroom, eager to freshen himself up.


    When he returned, Nero sat down on the mat on his knees, facing the prayer altar. Granny, also joined the prayer but didn¡¯t bother getting on her knees, as the poor soul¡¯s old bones weren¡¯t up to the task. A fact she constantly laments about.


    According to my calculation, the brat would probably read the book during sleeping hours. He should act suspiciously or change some behavior starting tomorrow, probably going to brag to his cronies. But since I barred him from giving it to anyone, he would bicker and fight with them. Nero hoped all the brats fought just enough that Mrs. Sharron intervened. Hmm, the odds of Jacob not heeding my warning and crossing me are very low. I should probably wait for three or four days and prod him into doing something stupid.


    Nero¡¯s inner monologue was halted with a light knock on his head.


    ¡°What are you thinking when praying, Nero?¡±


    ¡°Ouch, I was just reciting the scripture in my mind¡±


    ¡°Is that so?¡± Granny voiced skeptically. ¡°Keep your eyes down, then. How many times do I have to tell you Nero, Never look at a God directly¡±.


    ¡°Yes, yes, I know¡± Nero peeked at the portrait of the Goddess once more before fixing his eyes on the floor. She had a featureless face clad in white clothing and a head covering, while an adorable infant nestled in her arms. Her dress had wheat, herbs, flowers, and illustrations of different creatures embedded in it. Her feet grew into roots that spread wide, passing through the earth as if it were to hold the world itself. In the background, the cassia tree stands tall, adorned with vibrant golden flowers that seem to radiate light.


    ¡°Ayoo, kids these days have no respect,¡± Granny grumbled with a sigh. ¡°Come and eat dinner as soon as you¡¯re done. There is a wedding tomorrow. It will be hectic in the morning.¡± As Granny¡¯s voice faded, Nero stood up.


    I can only hope things play out as I calculated.


    Alas, everything didn¡¯t unfold exactly as Nero wished.


    Just as Nero assumed, Jacob planned to read the book during the sleeping hours. But recalling how Big Brother Nero kept on yapping about the book, curiosity got the best of him. He just wanted to pry its content before putting it down.


    Though the instant his eyes landed on the drawings of ero manga, he was awe-struck. As a boy who kicked off puberty, he naturally became intrigued by such things.


    Usually, he and his friends engaged in a never-ending competition to outdo each other by boasting about their expertise in matters of sex and passionately debating who among the village¡¯s women was the most stunning, while eagerly vying for their attention. And unbeknownst to poor Jacob, his friends had long come to an undebated consensus that his mother, Mrs. Sharron, was all their fantasized woman who they wanked off to and wished to one day pin down.


    In Jacob¡¯s circle, might and knowledge of these things made you the guy calling the shots. So he eagerly flipped through the book before sitting down to read from the beginning.


    As he read through the story, he felt his whole body boiling with newfound excitement, and his little willy gaining strength. Jacob imagined he was in another world as the main character himself. The boy was so deeply engrossed in his world that he missed his mother, who was calling for him at the top of her lungs.


    ¡°JACOB!¡± Sharron¡¯s shriek like a banshee was enough for the brat to shake himself off from his fantasy world. When the boy finally regained his senses, he saw with pure terror that his angry mother was glaring at him from the doorstep.


    He immediately tried to get off his chair while clutching the book, but in his panic, the legs of the chair got tangled at the study table.


    Jacob tripped himself and the book in his hand flipped thrice in the air comically before hitting the floor with a wide open page. It seemed bad luck dogged the poor Jacob.


    Both eyes of the mother and child trailed toward the book on the floor.


    The page revealed the main character plowing the thick mature woman from behind while holding her hair as a rein.


    No words were spoken as the room descended into a pin-drop silence for seconds.


    When he saw his mother bend down to pick up the book, Jacob felt his willy deflating like a balloon. He wondered which spot his parents were going to pick for him in the cemetery and what tree they were going to plant over his dead body.


    Sharron has been calling for him for the past fifteen minutes to help her with something in the kitchen. When the kid didn¡¯t respond, she came to his room to see what he was doing.


    At first, seeing him focused on reading, she assumed he was studying and felt pleased. However, recalling her child¡¯s nature, she became skeptical and wanted to check on him. And behold, the stupid little kid was reading some nasty book. Seeing the vulgar and explicit content as she flipped through the book, Sharron felt her face flush and a rush of heat in her lady bits.


    ¡°Where did you get this from? Just wait until your father gets back home. I will let him know what his precious boy has been up to. I¡¯ve warned him a thousand times against giving you any money,¡± Sharron admonished him with a fierce pinch in his arms while effortlessly hiding her inner turmoil.


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    ¡°But Mama, I swear I didn¡¯t spend a single penny on this. I got this as a reward,¡± Jacob pleaded innocence in his case while squirming in pain. Unfortunately, he met a powerful adversary. During Sharron¡¯s intense interrogation with skills akin to a seasoned inquisitor, the culprit confessed his crimes. He also testified against Big Brother Nero, stating him as the accomplice in the crime. Considering the culprit Jacob¡¯s claim and as the only potential lead in the case, the court judged to put suspect Nero on trial the following day. As for Jacob, the verdict was confiscation of the book and to be punished with humiliation.


    Phew¡­ Sharron looked at her child, who had been enduring her harsh scolding for half an hour. The poor child seems to be on the brink of breaking up while tightly controlling his urge to cry.


    She felt pity and wanted to end the misery of the cute thing, but some things needed to be said. She didn¡¯t want him to associate these things with shame.


    ¡°Jacob, Mama knows you¡¯re a growing boy. It¡¯s only natural and healthy for you to show interest in such things. However, this is not the time. Your father and I are tirelessly working so that all of us can move to the city. We are doing all this in hopes of you having a bright future. So promise me, sweety, that you will focus on studying from now on, letting no distractions hinder you.¡±


    ¡°I understand. I promise to study hard from now on. Eh¡­ that¡­Mama, are you going to tell all these to Father?¡±


    ¡°Ara, if my precious behaves like a dutiful child, this could be our little secret¡±


    ¡°I swear on it. Believe me. Jacob doesn¡¯t go back on his promise.¡± Jacob responded with bright eyes and as much honesty as he could muster in his voice.


    ¡°Then Mama also swears to keep this a secret,¡± Sharron replied with a gentle pat on his hair.


    That day, little Jacob slept peacefully, believing he was pardoned with a lighter sentence. Unfortunately, his mother was not having a similar experience.


    Sharron restlessly tossed and turned in bed, unable to find a moment of sleep.


    Months passed since she last experienced the comforting warmth of a man¡¯s touch on her body, or any touch. Instead of soothing her desires, her fingers seem to stoke the flames, intensifying the burning fire within her. Sharron forcefully suppressed any emotions from surfacing when she realized the fire was spiraling out of her control, threatening to consume other areas of her life.


    That¡¯s how she lived her life.


    These passionate desires were supposed to be silently buried deep in her heart with a mountain on top of it.


    Today, peace on that mountain was shattered. Nero¡¯s machinations had ignited a spark, that intends to set ablaze everything.


    Quietly, Sharron rose from her bed and reached for the glowstone lamp, casting a soft light that filled the room. She carefully arranged the pillows on the headboard, creating a cozy spot to lean against. Following that, she delicately positioned the confiscated book on the bed, angling it just right to allow the lamplight to cast a gentle glow, while she lay down and comfortably flipped through its pages with her left hand.


    As she read through the story, she also felt her whole body tingling with excitement, and her panties soaking in wetness.


    Though, unlike her son, she imagined herself as the mother who was getting pounded like a bitch.


    Yes, Sharron saw herself as the horny lustful mother that acted prim and proper in front of her son but would spread her legs invitingly for his friend. She would be the loyal wife and devoted mother, taking care of her family while behind their back, shaking her hips on a young man¡¯s dick like a cheap whore. The clean freak persona she projected during the day would quickly give way to a woman on her knees, eagerly devouring a dirty cock.


    At some point, Sharron had thrown her wet panties away and was rubbing her fingers in circles on her excited cunt. With the story reaching its finale, our Sharron too reached her climax, imagining the young stud filling the needy mother¡¯s pussy full of cum, .


    Sharron gazed at her two fingers, which were now glistening with her honey juice, in deep thought.


    Holding them up to the lamplight, she spread them apart slightly to see the thin thread of wetness between them.


    Bringing her fingers to her rosy lips, she gave them a faint lick before fully sucking on them.


    As expected, rather than calming down, her body craved more.


    Something new and something harder.


    In a couple of seconds, she took the book in her hand to scrutinize it.


    A man definitely did the writing. But with the unique idea of high-quality drawings paired with quite funny inner monologues, the book still seemed like high above-the-standard ones to her. Though the book cover and pages were nothing extraordinary, they were also decent. It should cost a sizable sum for that guy to buy this. As Sharron herself bought books as a reader, she could discern rather accurately.


    Does Granny give him that much money or did he make a haul like that time again?


    The pages show signs of wear and the book cover also lost much of its colors, so maybe he bought it for a cheaper price as a secondhand. That sounds reasonable.


    Wait, Secondhand? Eww, Sharron felt grossed knowing what the previous owners had likely used it for.


    She immediately tucked it back into a corner and sat on the bed.


    Now then, what should I do about the situation? She had finally had enough of it.


    Carlos was a good man. He was caring, and empathetic, and brought her all she ever desired. But the guy was never around. And even if he was here, it was not like he would solve her problem. He hardly had ten days of stay whenever he got back to the village with the caravan. His actions in bed revealed their problem. Like a starving dog finally given a bone, he would do the entire deed restlessly. Initially, she was amused by her husband¡¯s eagerness and antsiness like a na?ve brat, but soon it grew into irritation. He would finish even before she heats up and turns over in bed.


    Throughout the years, this farce hasn¡¯t changed. Now he had even started showing some slight ailing health conditions that made things in bed more awkward.


    Knowing his situation was more or less caused by his hard work for their family, she felt it was improper to complain.


    It wasn¡¯t like she hadn¡¯t tried to take matters into her own hands. Sharron fell in thought about the young man who caused her dilemma.


    She considered herself pretty and well-off. It was beneath her to look for a random schmuck. She liked kind and extremely hardworking men. This was one reason for her falling for Carlos. If she was going to lie down with anyone, the person had to be handsome and respect herself and the sanctity of her marriage.


    Nero ticked all these boxes.


    The young man¡¯s striking appearance flashed in her mind, with his deep raven hair that ran till his shoulder, a short chiseled beard that ornamented his well-defined jawline, and the sharp narrow eyes of a hunter augmented with flat yet thick eyebrows. His alluring purple eyes were the icing on the cake.


    Sharron had never seen him slack off. While his peers were playing around, he would either study or train himself all day. Besides, he started pocketing money even before his Ascension ceremony.


    Who in the village didn¡¯t know or envy Nero¡¯s hunting prowess?


    The scene of him pulling a porcine beast twice his size back to the village was fresh in her mind. Carlos had bought it, giving out an enormous price, and commented that it was a lesser minion beast.


    A damn lesser minion beast!


    One that was supposed to be taken down by a Guardian or experienced adventurer. The catch was a full testament to his skills.


    Still, he never acted haughtily or bullied anyone in the village with his talents. He was a restrained young man who just minded his things while helping out his granny, and working around here for all the events.


    With his temperament, knowledge, and skills, he had a bright future ahead.


    Sharron didn¡¯t have to think twice about her decision. But the nasty thing acted like she committed a grave sin against him when she showed interest.


    When he stopped coming over to tutor, she felt like her entire world was crumbling. Back then, she spent her days walking on pins and needles, anxiously waiting for the villagers to point fingers at her and call her a stray wife.


    Then, after a few days, he returned, acting as if nothing had happened. Sharron was certain that the jerk just wanted to scare her. The punk must have also taken pleasure in reminding her of her place. Since that day Sharron had been extra attentive around him and would leave the house to make space for Jacob and Nero during their study sessions.


    And now he was pulling this nonsense. She didn¡¯t know whether to laugh or cry.


    Humph, since you acted all high and mighty, isn¡¯t it only natural for me to give you the taste of your medicine?


    Phew, I need a bath and should change the bedsheet too.


    Sharron got up and stood before the mirror.


    Quickly, she grasped the hem of the nightie from her knees and pulled it over her head. With her wet panties long discarded and the soft fabric slipping off her body, She stood there buck naked from head to toe, feeling the gentle cold of the night against her skin.


    Standing silently before the mirror, she carefully angled her body to admire her side profile.


    Most men around here, young or old, would ogle at her like a piece of meat. While she utterly hated those lecherous stares, it also made her long realize that men find her irresistible. Hell, she had even caught women gawking at her, let alone men. No one in the village could claim to be her equal, except maybe Mrs. Rafealla.


    As Sharron raised her hands to tie her hair into a bun, she checked out her slightly protruding armpit hair from the mirror.


    Slowly her eyes trailed down, even her now moist flower was covered in a needless amount of hair.


    According to women in her gossip circle, it was commonly said only mature men appreciated a well-trimmed bush while usually young lads preferred it clean-shaven.


    Sharron looked at her flushed face in the mirror. She gently bit her rosy lower lips before breaking into a lascivious smile. Turning around, she lazily walked towards the bathroom to get her razor.