"The head of our family, at that time," she began softly, "fell into a one-sided love... not with just any goddess, but with the Mistress of the Heavens—the wife of the Supreme Being of Creation himself."
Julian tilted his head. "Love?" he repeated, surprised. "The mistress of the heavens?"
Annie nodded, her voice growing quiet, reverent. "Yes. She is known by many names—the Mother of Creation, the Light that Pierces Every Darkness, the Womb of Stars. She is the first flame, the dawn that never fades. The most sacred of all divine beings... and utterly untouchable."
Julian’s eyes widened. He leaned forward slightly, drawn in by the sheer scale of what she was saying. "And yet... our ancestor wanted her?"
Annie’s voice took on a bitter edge. "He didn’t just want her. He desired her. Obsessively. Dangerously. His longing wasn’t born from mere affection or admiration—it came from a craving that blurred the line between master and servant. He believed that if he could claim her, their union would elevate him to something greater than a god."
Julian’s chest tightened. The madness of it. The audacity.
"But of course," Annie said, her tone darker now, "she never returned his feelings." She was loyal to her husband—His Majesty of Creation. Yet our ancestor couldn’t let go. He crossed the line. Tried to reach her through dreams, through offerings, through treachery."
She paused, her gaze clouded by the weight of memory passed down through generations. "And when His Majesty found out..."
She trailed off.
Julian didn’t move, didn’t breathe. "What happened?"
Annie looked at him again.
"His wrath knew no limit. In front of the entire Court of the Heavens, the Supreme Being of Creation struck down our ancestor. Didn’t just kill him—he made a lesson of him. Tore his soul apart and placed his severed head on the gates of his palace."
But Annie wasn’t finished.
"And it didn’t end there. To make sure no one ever forgot the offense, he cursed our entire bloodline. The whole family. Every generation that followed."
Julian swallowed. "What kind of curse?"
Annie’s hands trembled in her lap. "Miscarriages. Infertility. And where children did survive... fewer and fewer males with each generation. A slow, agonizing extinction. He stripped us of our future, not in one blow, but with a curse that rotted with time."
Her voice broke slightly. "And now... look around. A village without sons. A people clinging to the idea of breeders because we have no choice left. That curse is why we suffer."
Julian leaned back on the bed, his eyes fixed on the wooden ceiling above him. The weight of everything Annie had said pressed down on him, and nothing could have prepared him for such a revelation.
He had once been the pride of Easvil, the archduke’s son, born into nobility and privilege. His life had been one of schemes and strategy, of conquests, of power and desire. He had thought stealing the throne from Ivan—his cousin, the child of Aunt Hallie—was one of the greatest things he had done. He had thought breaking through to Grand Mage, mastering supreme energies, and challenging even gods like Death himself was the pinnacle of existence.
But this?
This was something else entirely.
Phew... He exhaled sharply, a bitter smile tugging at his lips.
How naive I’ve been.
He had known of the Supreme Beings. But now there were divine families, the Mother of Creation, and Heaven itself. It felt like he had cracked open the surface of a world he had only thought he understood, only to discover layers of terrifying history and punishment beneath.
"This is fucked," he whispered, rubbing his face.
He wasn’t just a reincarnated prodigy anymore. He was a descendant of the most cursed bloodline in the heavens.
His mind spiraled with questions. Who else knew this? Were there more like him? And what kind of existence was the Mother of Creation? Was her beauty so utterly captivating that a man so powerful would risk annihilation just to touch her shadow?
But there were no answers.
sigh...
He closed his eyes, trying to tap into the connection that he always used to sense before teleporting to his inner world. At first, there was only silence, like a locked door he no longer had the key to. But then... a flicker. Distant, weak.
It was there.
"Thank God..."
That small connection meant everything. It meant that the inner world still existed. And with it, his last act before he died as Julian: teleporting all his wives and harem inside.
He had acted on instinct then, with no time to explain. One second they were scattered throughoutthe Ares kingdom, the next they were swept away by golden energy.
They were safe.
He couldn’t reach them now, couldn’t speak to them or hold them—but just knowing they were alive, untouched by Death’s reach, calmed him down.
And in Throne of Gods—where time and mana flowed differently—perhaps they would grow stronger. Perhaps, in time, one of them might even find a way back to him.
He chuckled softly. "If any of them can punch through dimensions for me, it’s probably Eleanor."
His smile faded slightly as he stared at the ceiling again.
Back in the Ares kingdom, barely anyone knew the truth. Death’s influence had been hidden, his plan buried completely. With Julian now "dead," who would even know to resist?
That world would soon fall.
But here... here he had another chance.
Annie sat beside him quietly, watching the way her "son" stared blankly at the wooden ceiling. His expression was unreadable—somewhere between lost and exhausted.
She assumed, naturally, that the weight of the village’s future was pressing on him. That the idea of becoming a breeder—of shouldering the hopes of an entire cursed bloodline—was too much for a boy his age.
With a soft sigh, she reached out, her fingers slipping gently through his hair. She ruffled it the way she used to when he was younger.
"Rael," she said softly, "don’t burden yourself with the past." It’s not yours to carry. Just think about you now. Your life, your path."
Julian blinked out of his thoughts and turned to look at her. For a moment, her concern cut through the fog of reincarnated chaos that clouded his mind.
"It’s okay, Mother," he said, his voice calm. "I’m not burdened... especially not about the breeder part."