She looked divine.
Julian let out a low chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. "She literally sucked my soul," he murmured. "Fuckin’ hell."
He leaned back against the wall, still gathering himself from the haze of the sleep.
"I’ve slept with plenty of won before," he whispered, half in awe, half in defeat. "But only a few ever got close to what she did to last night. And none of them... none were an animal like that."
He swallowed hard, the mories still playing in the back of his mind.
"She used . Devoured . Like I was the sacrifice."
He glanced at her again, noting how peacefully she slept—as if she were not the animal haunting his dreams.
Julian, anwhile, felt like he had aged ten years and been reborn all at once. "Yeah," he whispered. "I’m in trouble."
He was about to beco a breeder, chosen to satisfy the desires of many. But if this was his condition—barely conscious—after pleasuring just one woman, then what would happen to him after tending to the needs of an entire village of won?
The thought sent a chill down his spine.
"I need to train," he muttered, shaking his head as he forced himself out of the bed. Every muscle in his body ached, yet he pushed through it with gritted teeth.
The morning was still quiet, and Julian stepped outside, walking into the gardens. The mont the fresh air filled his lungs, he exhaled in relief.
Questions swirled in his mind—about this forsaken place, the village, the heaven, and the strange fate that seed to follow him. But he rembered what Annie had told him: she would only answer him if he were selected as the breeder. Until then, all he could do was wait.
He made his way to the far corner of the garden, where a small wooden table and chair was placed under a flowering tree. He lowered himself onto the chair, feeling the creak of the wood beneath him.
The garden was calm, untouched by the tension building in his chest. For now, this would be his sanctuary—and his training ground.
"Let’s try absorbing so mana," he muttered under his breath.
Sitting cross-legged on the grass, Julian closed his eyes, letting his focus turn inward. He blocked out the rustle of leaves, the chirps of early birds, and even the ache in his limbs. Everything faded as he reached into himself, searching for the connection to the world around him.
Minutes passed in silence.
When he opened his eyes again, his brow lifted in surprise. "Hmm... the mana here is thin," he murmured. "And this body... it’s barely capable of holding even that."
Determined, he shut his eyes again and reached out. He stretched for the faint wisps of mana scattered in the air around him. At first, the mana resisted, slipping through the cracks of his grasp. But he remained steady.
His breathing slowed, his heart cald, and the pressure slowly lifted.
Bit by bit, the mana began to respond. It flowed toward him, slowly but steadily, like a wave forced to change its course.
This wasn’t sothing a normal body could achieve. The only reason the flow began at all was because of Julian’s soul—tempered through countless trials and cultivated to a point where even a Supre Being wasn’t able to wipe it away.
Soon, the thin streams of mana started to respond with more eagerness, as if sothing deep within Julian had finally convinced them to trust. They gathered around him like invisible threads, then, without warning, pierced into him.
Making their way through his muscles, they wrapped around his nerves and branched out through his veins. His breath hitched slightly as the familiar warmth settled into his chest, then spread outward.
The feeling was unlike anything he had experienced before in this weakened state. It was revitalizing.
Slowly, the mana branched further, reaching places that had long felt hollow. His bones glowed faintly under his skin, thickening and strengthening his fra.
His blood lit up next.
He could feel it—every drop coursing through his veins like a molten fire. The mana didn’t just enter; it fused, refining every part of him. His organs felt lighter yet stronger, and his muscles twitched as if reawakening from a deep slumber. The sharp aches that lingered in his limbs dissolved one by one, replaced by an overwhelming sense of power.
Julian’s fingers curled slightly, and he clenched his jaw as his senses sharpened. He could hear distant birds more clearly, sll the scent of wet earth, and even feel the minor fluctuations in the wind.
The world felt more vivid—alive. Every breath he took was deeper and richer, as if the air itself now carried more aning.
Julian took a deep breath and opened his eyes. They glowed faintly, reflecting the light that now lived within him.
"This body... might just be worth rebuilding after all," he whispered.
He stood back up, stretching his limbs with a satisfied sigh. "Finally..." he muttered to himself, feeling the newfound strength pulsing through his body.
Just as he rolled his shoulders to begin another round of stretches, he caught movent in the distance.
His eyes narrowed.
It was Annie.
She walked with her usual grace, the morning light casting a beautiful golden glow across her skin. Julian’s eyes locked onto her, his gaze trailing from her legs to the curve of her hips, up her waist, and then to her breasts.
He let his eyes linger, shaless and hungry. He had seen her before but never like this. Never with this much focus. Now that he was actually studying her, he realized sothing he hadn’t paid attention to before: she wasn’t just beautiful.
She was dangerous.
The kind of woman whose beauty could ruin n.
No wonder she was one of the very few won in this cursed land who could bear sons. It wasn’t just her body—it was everything about her. Her confidence, her smile, the way her eyes never flinched when they looked at you.
"She’s divine," he murmured.
Even the gods must have pitied her enough to spare her from the curse. Or maybe they simply admired her too much to let her rot like the others.
And Julian?
He wanted her.
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