After what felt like an eternity of swirling void, Alex's consciousness slammed back into him like a drowning man coming up on the surface, gasping, choking, and every nerve of his was alight with fire.
His eyelids snapped open to a bruised twilight sky, streaked with the dying embers of sunset. His body throbbed, not from the iron bar's fatal blow, but from a deep, bone-weary ache, as if he'd been ravaged by fever for weeks. Fingers twitched against damp, loamy earth beneath him. Lungs filled with the sharp scent of pine, woodsmoke, and something sweeter, wildflowers maybe, mingled with a feminine musk.
And then he saw her.
A woman knelt a few paces away, her back to him, shoulders heaving with silent sobs. Fiery red hair spilled down her spine like molten copper, catching the fading light.
She wore a threadbare tunic, patched at the elbows and so thin it clung transparently to the generous curve of her waist and hips when she shifted. The fabric rode high on her thighs, barely concealing the swell of her ass as she leaned forward, her bare legs folded beneath her.
Alex's first coherent thought was, ‘Damn, she's hot.’ Seeing how unguarded she was made his pulse quicken at the sight.
"Excuse me?" The words escaped before he could rein them in, but he noticed that his voice was different, younger, rougher, laced with a rural accent that he knew for sure wasn't his.
The woman stiffened, then turned. Her face was a raw mess: eyes swollen from tears, cheeks streaked with dirt.
But beneath the grief, she was stunningly sexy, with sharp cheekbones, full lips pressed into a trembling line, and a body that screamed neglected desire.
Her eyes widened, locking onto him like he was a talking dead person. "L-Lys?" Her voice cracked, thick with disbelief.
Alex blinked. ‘Lys?’ This was not his name, but just as he heard the name, suddenly fragments of memory flooded in, giving him the overall idea of what was happening.
He got the gist that he had possessed the body of Lysander Veyne, an 18-year-old villager, orphaned young and raised by this woman, his step-mother, Elara.
Before he could process the memories he got, a crash of wooden branches shattered the silence. A second woman stumbled into his view, arms burdened with branches for kindling.
She was younger, perhaps 18, her features a softer echo of the first woman before him: same stubborn chin, same deep-red hair, but hers were tied in a messy braid that framed her pert breasts and slim waist very alluringly. Her name was Mira, according to the memories of this body.
Her skirt was even skimpier, a ragged strip that fluttered in the breeze, exposing toned thighs and the hint of her undergarments as she moved. The logs tumbled from her grip as she stared at him.
"Ahh, Brother?"
The scream-like sound that tore from her was a mix of joy and hysteria. The older woman whirled, her skimpy short dress hiking up further as she lunged. Alex barely braced himself before she collided with him, arms locking around his ribs, her soft, mature body pressing flush against his. Her breasts squished against his chest, the thin fabric doing nothing to hide the brushing of her nipples against his chest.
"You're alive!" The woman wailed into his shoulder, her hips grinding unconsciously against his thigh in her fervor. "Oh gods, you're... you're back!"
The younger one, his step-sister, slammed into them a second later, her slender form wrapping around his side. The impact drove the air from his lungs, but he felt every curve: Mira's perky tits against his arm, her bare leg hooking around his for leverage. Their sobs mingled with relieved laughter, and their bodies were trembling.
Alex's mind reeled. This wasn't right; he wasn't theirs, not really. But their grief was palpable, their relief felt intoxicated by his breaking this news, seeing how happy they were.
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His arms rose instinctively, hands settling on their backs. Elara's hair smelled of herbs and smoke, while Mira's grip was fierce, her nails grazing his skin through his shirt. Heat built in his groin, without him even trying to sexualize the situation.
Then, without warning, a white screen filled up his view:
{Warning: Host’s body critically damaged. Initiating emergency repair...}
{System integration: 99% complete.}
Welcome, [Host: Lysander Veyne]
The words blazed across his vision; it was a holographic overlay only he could see. Alex jerked, but the women clung tighter, mistaking it for frailty.
"Shh, it's alright," Elara murmured, cupping his face. Her thumbs brushed his cheeks, her breath hot and sweet over his face. "You're safe now, my sweet boy. You're..."
While she was trying to calm him, his mind was on the thing before him.
<<[Milf Breeding System] activated.>>
Primary Objective: Repopulate the cursed world. Impregnate as many women as possible to break the infertility plague. Reward structure unlocked.
Active Targets:
[Elara Veyne (Step-Mother)] – Difficulty: SS-Rank | Status: Overjoyed (Physical contact +30%) | Affection: 98 | Lust: 7%
Alex's breath hitched. ‘Milf? System? SS-Rank? What is this circus? Is this the gift the goddess was talking about?!’
His gaze snapped to Elara, the overlay highlighting her in glowing script. She was a MILF in her prime for sure, mature, voluptuous, maybe even neglected by society. But more than her figure, what interested him was what made the system acknowledge her as a target. Isn’t she his mother!
As if ignoring the question in his mind, a quest prompt materialized:
<< Tier 1 Quest: “Comfort the Grieving Mother” >>
Objective: Maintain physical contact with [Elara Veyne] for 60 seconds.
Reward: 50 SP | +3 Affection | Fertility Boost 10%
Note: Target is highly receptive due to emotional vulnerability. Optimal for skin-to-skin interaction.
His stomach twisted, not from nausea, but arousal.
The women babbled on: Mira was telling about a wolf attack in the woods that had left "him" for dead, Elara was telling him about, how she had scraped together some rare herbs for his recovery on her own, after the village chief refused to help them.
"We thought we lost you. Your breath stopped last night, so we were going to burn your body here, unless you turn into an undead."
Elara whispered while sobbing, her fingers trailing down his neck, lingering at his collarbone. "Nobody helped, so we had to come here. I couldn't even afford a proper shroud..."
As she was explaining, the quest update rang up in his ears.
Quest Update: 30 seconds remaining.
Alex's pulse raced. The timer ticked down on its own effortlessly as they were holding him. Heat pooled in his core, his cock stirring against Elara's thigh. She noticed that, but didn’t pay it any mind.
Then the quest completion notification flared, Quest Complete! Reward distributed.
<< Host: Lysander Veyne >>
Strength: 12
Stamina: 8
Mana: 0
System Points (SP): 50
Active Targets: [Elara Veyne (SS-Rank)]
Passive Targets:
[Mira Veyne (S-Rank)]
Alex's vision swam with the new status window. It had Mira as its passive target registered.
‘So does this mean there will be quests for her too?’
Even though Mira was a little slender, she was still too beautiful not to be considered a potential target by a milf system. Her skimpy skirt rode up as she shifted, exposing more skin.
Elara pulled back slightly, wiping her cheeks, but still kept her body pressed close. "Let's get you to the village. Priest John might be able to explain this miracle."
Mira nodded, her eyes gleaming with unshed tears. "Yes, Mom. Brother needs checking. Who knows if he is still not out of danger?"
They hauled him up, Elara slinging his arm over her shoulders, her soft curves molding to his side. Her hip brushed his with every step, her breath warm on his neck. Mira flanked his other side, her hand "accidentally" grazing his ass as they stumbled toward the path.
-----
The women was laughing now, relief bubbling into flirtatious banter. Even though they were laughing, Elara's eyes flicked to the roadside from time to time, maybe evaluating any potential danger to her son, and Mira biting her lip as she adjusted her braid, her breasts bouncing freely.
As the trees gave way to the village outskirts, Alex spotted more women bathing openly in a nearby stream, their half-naked bodies glistening with water, calling out to passing men who ignored them, their eyes fixed on a distant noblewoman's carriage.
The village loomed ahead, and Alex grinned inwardly.
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