Stiletto stood outside in the manor's backyard.
A full month had passed since he'd begun school, meaning his punishment for stealing the Goddess from captivity—an entire month of chores—was almost at an end.
Truthfully, Stiletto had worried that the slave traders would eventually track him down and retaliate. So when they did find him, it came as no real surprise—though it appeared the baron had already spoken with them and settled the issue behind the scenes.
Power was truly frightening…
At the moment, Stieltto was hanging damp clothes along a line to dry, just as his father had instructed. The work left him tired, but his exhaustion wasn't what occupied his thoughts as he went about the chore.
'Oh my god... maybe that's why...'
Over the past month, Stiletto had been visiting his mother often, and lately, she had even seemed to be getting better. His father had apparently received some kind of treatment from the hooded woman he'd seen that day.
He had no clue who she was.
Even so, it was comforting to see Valerie slowly improving. She still had a long way to go, but something was better than nothing.
What truly plagued his thoughts, however, was the affection he felt for her. It was strange. There was, of course, the heavy inclination inherited from the old Stiletto, rooted in being her true son—but that alone didn't seem enough to justify these feelings.
There had to be something else.
And then, in the middle of his chore, something clicked.
Valerie du Life reminded him strongly of his aunt in his past life.
It wasn't that they resembled each other at all—not even remotely. Physically, the only trait they might have shared were their large breasts. What truly made Stiletto feel the similarity was the way they acted—their personalities.
Back on Earth, his parents had worked him relentlessly, day and night, without regard for his feelings. From a young age, he'd been naturally agile and athletic, far above average. In all honesty, he'd been nothing more than a trophy to them. And to make sure that trophy shone as brightly as possible—and brought in money—they forced him into endless practice and sponsorships whenever the chance appeared.
No matter how wild it was.
That mindset was exactly how Stiletto had ended up on a stupid tightrope next to a highway, of all places. It was also why he'd never had friends his own age; people kept their distance, his parents always insisting he was "too busy."
All that fame, and nothing to show for it.
He was past being depressed—there was just emptiness. Every day blurred into the next, the same routine repeating endlessly. Utterly inescapable.
But not when his Aunt Winona was around.
His mother's sister was a bright light in an otherwise dark world. Time and again, she'd slip into his practices and pull him out early, taking him somewhere fun, away from his parents' gaze—letting him experience the real world, if only for a little while.
She'd smile so brightly watching him happily eat ice cream at some random store, or seeing his eyes light up when he bowled for the first time.
Of course, it was inevitable that she was eventually caught, and Stiletto's parents strongly "encouraged" her not to do things like that—claiming it distracted him and held him back from improving.
That didn't stop her, though. It was that defiance that Stiletto loved most about her.
And Valerie exuded that same presence.
From his memories, Stiletto knew that before she fell ill, she had constantly visited his predecessor, always finding ways to get her son outside. She understood how shut away he was from the world and made a point of letting him experience it whenever she could.
They both shared that overly caring, daring, and ambitious nature.
'I wonder how Aunt Winona is doing...'
Suddenly, a deep heaviness settled in his chest, his knees growing weak.
Did she cry?
Did she go on to live happily?
Did she scream at his parents?
A small grin tugged at his lips as he chuckled to himself.
'I hope she did... that's totally something she would do.'
"Why are you laughing?"
At his side, Lyria was hanging up another article of clothing, an irritated look on her face.
Stiletto replied dryly:
"Sorry, won't tell."
He still hadn't revealed his true identity to her. Honestly, he'd expected her to have put two and two together by now—but apparently not. Despite being the Goddess of Knowledge, Books, and more, she was rather dense.
'So much for that...'
Intelligent, but lacking in common sense. Perhaps her status as a Stage 1 Mortal had affected her mind too.
Actually, he was nearly certain that was the case.
Amused by the irony, he chuckled again as she harumphed beside him.
She was extremely agitated.
And to be fair, she had every reason to be upset. For the past month, Stiletto had teased her relentlessly—night after night, touching every corner of her sexy, curved body, bringing her right to the brink, then stopping just before she came.
He still hadn't had sex with her, his reasoning being that {Fallen Goddess} would grant her a system the moment he did—and as things stood now, he saw no benefit in her having one.
Instead, he'd rather leave her feeling as hopeless as possible in the moment, letting her grow subconsciously dependent on him for everything.
Mya, standing beside them, suddenly giggled.
"Well, what about me~?"
With a smirk, Stiletto gave Mya's ass a smack. She slapped his hand away at once, cheeks flushing as he replied:
"Maybe later~"
Mya had chosen to help Stiletto however she could with his chores, accompanying him on his tasks many times over.
Of course, Lyria had no choice in the matter in the end. There were more than a few occasions where he simply asked her to do his chores instead—but today, he was in a good mood.
For one specific reason: he'd gotten stronger.
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(Page 3)
[Stats]
{Main Stats-}
Strength: 16
Agility: 17
Vitality: 14
Endurance: 12
Intelligence: 18
Luck: 28
{Added Stats-}
Spirit: 26
Charm: 20
Cock: 65/120
Touch: 17
{Earned Stat Points-}
0
(Page 4) ...
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Over the last thirty days, he'd accumulated 117 stat points.
Most of them had come from Mya—there wasn't a single day he'd spent without her. It wasn't uncommon for him to bring her to orgasm two or three times a day.
There had even been a few moments when he'd finished inside her, caught up in the moment. Thankfully, she showed no signs of pregnancy. He preferred to keep it that way, for now.
Still, she'd recently begun to struggle to keep up with his tenacity in bed, so Mya found a solution.
Her friend, Patricia—the lanky, red-haired goblin maid—had subtly inquired about Stiletto more than a few times, having heard the stories Mya naturally gossiped to her.
Having been friends for nearly fifteen years, Mya trusted Patricia with her secret involving Stiletto. And realizing she couldn't fully satisfy him as she was now, she allowed Patricia to spend some time with him.
The first time Mya brought the goblin to his room, she left as Patricia began undressing. Her body was average at best.
That day marked his first time tasting pussy from another race.
In truth, it had been terrible. He didn't know whether all goblins were like that or if it was just Patricia, but she came on his dick far too many times. He wasn't able to enjoy himself at all with all the constant stopping.
He wasn't particularly attracted to her either. She was uninteresting, and he'd only gone through with it out of respect for Mya.
From then on, he told Mya that he preferred the goblin maid stick to giving him blowjobs only, with him fingering her instead—no sex—purely for the stat points.
Oh yeah—and he'd already told Mya about all of his skills, save for {Fallen Goddess}. For now, he preferred not to let her know that Lyria had once been a divine being.
Learning that he became stronger by making women cum due to his {Conditional Lover} skill was another reason she was so willing to lend her friend to him.
Some of his stat points had also come from Syril—and no, he still hadn't fucked her. Nor had he touched her.
Back during his first week at school, after classes ended, the dark elf would approach him alone and take him out to the open fields to slay random beasts. The frigid weather and falling snow were brutal, but the extra stat gains made it worthwhile.
For the most part, they barely spoke, working together in near silence as they killed monsters. A few times, however, she'd excitedly challenge him to a duel, a crazed look in her eye—but he declined each time. He'd rather not get his ass beat; she was simply too strong.
He also couldn't ignore how he'd occasionally catch her staring strangely at his blood-weapons, even licking her lips a few times. If anything, she seemed to be growing more unhinged by the day. A total freak becoming even freakier.
Even so, Syril's favorability meter continued to show nothing at all—a simple dash. He wasn't sure what to do about that.
In any case, not even a week after they began, his father seemed to have scolded her over something, and he hadn't seen her since.
"Alright, that should do it!"
Stiletto and the two other women finished their chores as Mya hung up the last article of clothing.
Stiletto nodded and turned to Lyria.
"Let's go."
Daeron had requested that his son and the Goddess visit him in the garden.
After dismissing Mya, the two walked around the manor grounds until they reached their destination. Daeron was seated on a bench beside a beautiful fountain, and to Stiletto's surprise, Syril was there—the first time he'd seen her in weeks.
What confused him, though, was how she was sitting as far away from Daeron as possible on the bench. The air felt tense, as though an argument—or something similar—had just taken place. It was strange seeing the woman who had once sat on Daeron's lap, feeding him grapes, now acting so distant.
'Weird...'
The dark elf warrior's vacant gaze flickered to life the moment she noticed them.
"Stil—!"
Daeron interrupted sharply:
"You can leave."
Before she could refuse, the slave seal compelled her to obey. She turned and walked away, a strange expression lingering on her face.
Turning back to them, the baron continued:
"I think it's been long enough..."
Both Stiletto and Lyria raised their eyebrows as he went on, his gaze settling on the Goddess.
"Isn't it time you returned to your family?"
Though framed as a question, it was unmistakably an order. She had, after all, been "freeloading" here for an entire month.
Stiletto observed quietly as the Goddess stumbled over her words, shooting him frantic, unprepared looks.
"Oh, y—yeah, I'm sure… but I—"
Stiletto cut her off, turning his gaze to the baron.
"Father…"
Over the past month, he'd prepared for this exact situation—hence why he wasn't panicked. He knew it was inevitable and had spent countless nights thinking, searching for a solution that would allow both him and the Goddess to stay together—under his control.
How was he going to keep her in the house?
…No. That was the wrong way to think about it.
Instead, he'd found a solution—one that served him in multiple ways, while still keeping Lyria nearby. If they couldn't remain together under the du Life roof, then the answer was simple.
Change the roof.
Stiletto inhaled deeply, composing himself before speaking.
"... I'd like to attend a spirit academy."