Jaenor’s pov:
The door to my ho creaks shut behind as I step into the crisp morning air.
"Wear your coat, Jaenor." I could hear my mother yell as I walked towards the path.
"I did," I reply to her. Though I don’t know if she heard .
Thinking about her makes grin like an idiot. She was so enticing this morning. I wish I could lie naked with her all day long.
My thoughts were interrupted by a female voice.
"Little Jaenor, where are you off to?"
I turned to look at the left side, a woman in her middle ages, but still looking like a MILF. Her tall fra with those giant boobs was so captivating. Her black hair with a silver shade was braided behind her back, glistening in the sunlight.
"I am headed to the tavern, Granny," I said as I watched her move towards .
I was standing in front of their house.
As she approached , I could only stare at her jiggling bosom. Her low-cut blouse revealed too much of those appetising lons.
"If you see Taeryn, tell him to co ho; otherwise, he will get a beating from ," she said and then gave an apple. She turned back to her house and walked to the door.
I stood there, watching her waist sway like a dancing snake charming its prey. Her rump, even beneath the gown, I could see the exact shape. Argh!! If only I could get inside her gown.
She suddenly turned back to see and noticed where I was looking at.
A smile crossed her lips as she winked at .
Maybe I will bang her sooner than I thought.
My breath ford clouds in front of my face, dancing away on the winter breeze. I tugged my fur-lined cloak tighter around my shoulders.
Another day in paradise, I thought with a smirk, casting a glance back at the house where Rosa—my "mother" in this world—was likely still straightening the furs on my bed, erasing evidence of our morning activities.
The village of Forstvale spread before , a collection of wooden and stone structures nestled against the backdrop of towering mountains. Smoke rose from chimneys in lazy spirals, and the constant sound of the river provided a soothing backdrop to the bustle of daily life.
Children darted between houses, engaged in so ga involving a lot of shouting and snowballs. rchants called out their wares in the small market square ahead.
I set off toward the village centre, where The Rushing Stag tavern served as the heart of local social life.
My boots crunched through the snow as I walked, nodding greetings to villagers who called out to "young Garrick’s."
If only they knew the truth.
The goddess sure gave a good life here in this world. I couldn’t help but feel satisfied with my situation. Before my reincarnation, I’d been nobody special—just another corporate drone spiralling into self-destruction.
Now I was special.
Chosen.
And with benefits that made want to laugh out loud sotis.
Yes, I got reincarnated into this world.
This world, though it seed disadvantageous to at first glance, was actually perfect for my particular skills.
A world where n were subjugated, where they couldn’t access the magical energy that perated everything—mana, they called it. A world where that imbalance had created a society dominated by won who wielded that power with impunity.
I couldn’t understand how won could be the only ones to wield magic. According to the local beliefs, n’s bodies simply weren’t designed to channel mana. So said it was the goddess’ will, a punishnt for n’s arrogance in ancient tis.
Others claid it was simply natural law, like the fact that n couldn’t bear children. Whatever the reason, n attempting to use magic was considered not just impossible but taboo—a perversion of the natural order.
When the goddess had told I was so chosen one, so "pathbreaker," I’d initially thought it would be a burden.
Just my luck to be dropped into a fantasy world only to beco so reluctant hero. But then she’d explained the benefits—that I could absorb mana through intimate contact with won, growing stronger with each encounter.
I had jumped at the opportunity without hesitation. Who wouldn’t?
It was like sothing straight out of those dual cultivation novels I’d read in my previous life—trashy web fiction about cultivators who gained power through sex.
Never thought I’d be living that fantasy, but here I was. And the best part? I could get laid as much as I wanted, all while convincing myself it was for a noble purpose.
I stepped around a cart being loaded with winter vegetables, careful to avoid its owner—a stern-faced woman with the tell-tale shimr of mana around her fingers as she effortlessly lifted crates that would require two n to move.
Another reminder of how things worked here.
The won in this world, they really were dominant—almost aggressive about it sotis. Even the ones without significant magical talent carried themselves with the ingrained confidence of those born to rule. They walked with straight backs and direct gazes, while most n hunched slightly, eyes downcast in deference.
I hated that part.
Even if won had all the magical power, why bother n who were just trying to live normal lives? The dynamics here were skewed beyond reason in so cases.
I’d seen n step off pathways to let won pass, witnessed male craftsn being paid less than female ones for identical work, and observed how n weren’t permitted to participate in village councils unless specifically invited by a woman.
Too much female domination here, if you asked .
Even in households, won had more say than n. The structure of family life reflected the broader social hierarchy—won made the important decisions, controlled the finances, and determined children’s futures. n provided labour, companionship, and occasionally advice—if their wives were the type to listen.
Yet my "mother" was different.
Rosa might appear to outsiders as a typical Forstvale wife, deferring to Garrick in public as custom demanded. But behind closed doors, our relationship had revealed her true nature—a woman desperate for soone who saw her as more than a superior being, soone who challenged her rather than cowered.
She was my woman now, in every sense that mattered. The taboo nature of our relationship only made it more exciting for both of us. I knew how to touch her, how to speak to her, how to make her forget the power dynamics that defined her world. And each ti I did, I felt that subtle transfer of energy—mana flowing from her body into mine, strengthening in ways I was only beginning to understand.
The tavern ca into view as I rounded the corner of the blacksmith’s shop. The Rushing Stag was a two-story building with large windows and intricate carvings around its doorfra depicting the animal for which it was nad. Even at this hour, I could see movent inside—travellers having breakfast, locals gathering to exchange news before starting their day’s work.
I paused for a mont, looking up at the mountains that surrounded Forstvale. Sowhere beyond those peaks lay the wider world, with larger cities and more powerful female witches. Won whose mana reserves would make Rosa’s seem like a candle beside a bonfire.
Won who, if the goddess was to be believed, could help grow far stronger than what this village could offer.
But for now, I’d content myself with what Forstvale provided—a comfortable life, a woman who desired , and the beginnings of power that no man in this world was supposed to possess. I had ti to explore, to learn, and to grow stronger before revealing myself.
After all, the best manipulators know that patience is the ultimate weapon. And manipulation was what I did best.
With that thought, I pushed open the door to The Rushing Stag, greeted by the scent of fresh bread and roasted at, ready to continue playing my role in this fascinating new world—at least until I was powerful enough to rewrite its rules.
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