Path To Godhood Begins With Marrying Wife And Gaining SSS Rank Skill

“Wuuwuww… Father, you cannot do this to me…”

A sad and dramatic cry echoed through the corridor as Nera was dragged forward by Herion.

Nera struggled and tried to punch Herion, but her fists landed softly. It was more playful resistance than real anger. Her movements were clumsy on purpose, like a child throwing a tantrum.

“I am just a kid…”

“A kid of nineteen,” Herion replied with a crooked grin. “Hehehe.”

“Whom are you kidding!” Ethan smirked, his eyes glinting with something close to evil amusement. “It is time to help in family affairs.”

“No… I do not want to be buried under piles of documents,” Nera shouted, her face twisting in horror.

Ethan’s expression changed the moment he heard that.

He froze for a second.

Other noble children put swords to each other’s throats, schemed day and night, and ruined friendships just to gain authority and power. Yet his own children were running away from it like it was poison.

Oh God…

Ethan rubbed his face slowly.

“Nera. Enough of your tantrum,” he said firmly. “We need your help. I am going into seclusion for a few months.”

“We need helping hands.”

“Why do you not ask Leo?” Nera shot back immediately.

“He is still not suitable,” Ethan replied without hesitation.

“What about Sister?”

“She might bury the Blanks if I leave it to her.”

He wasn’t kidding..

Miranda was bad…Very bad in administration.

Nera opened her mouth to protest again, but then she stopped. Her shoulders dropped and she let out a long sigh, as if all the strength had drained from her.

“Okay. I will do it,” she said reluctantly. “But I want to ask one thing.”

Ethan raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”

“Whose idea was it?” Nera asked coldly.

Ethan did not answer. Instead, his eyes shifted slightly toward Nera’s back.

The moment she noticed his gaze move, Nera’s expression changed. Her eyes widened, then narrowed sharply. A murderous intent flashed across her face as she snapped her head around.

However..

SWOOOSHHH!

A sudden gust of wind blasted through the hall. The windows rattled violently.

“????”

Nera blinked.

“Where is Herion?” she asked slowly.

“He jumped out of the window,” Ethan replied calmly, his lips twitching in amusement.

“Damn!”

“I am going to kill him,” Nera roared.

She turned and jumped straight out of the window without a second thought, leaving Ethan standing alone in the corridor.

Ethan watched them disappear and let out a helpless chuckle.

…

In the following weeks, Ethan personally taught Herion and Nera about administration, territory management, military coordination, and how to deal with nobles and merchants. He explained things patiently, sometimes repeating himself when they frowned or complained.

Only after he was sure that both of them were capable enough to handle things did he finally make his decision.

It was time.

Inside a barren training chamber built far away from the main territory, Ethan sat cross-legged on the ground. The chamber was isolated, surrounded by reinforced stone and heavy arrays. No one could sense what happened inside.

Ethan took out a potion and stared at it for a moment.

First, he drank the Draconic Potion.

The liquid slid down his throat.

A burning sensation exploded instantly.

“Ahhh… so hot,” Ethan groaned. “It feels even hotter than before… damn it.”

The heat surged from his throat down to his stomach and then spread through his limbs. His entire body felt like it was on fire. His skin turned red, and faint steam rose from his pores. The stone floor beneath him began to crack and blacken.

“HOOOOOO!”

He clenched his fists as flames burst out around him, licking the walls and ceiling.

“It seems this training chamber might be destroyed,” he roared as the fire intensified.

His muscles swelled slightly, becoming denser. Dark crimson scales began to appear along his shoulders, arms, and spine. They shimmered faintly, hard and sharp, like living armor. His bones creaked as they strengthened, and his blood felt thick and heavy, as if molten metal flowed through his veins.

Then Ethan poured the Martial Insight potion into his mouth.

“Let us start with two hundred.”

WHOOOSSH!

A massive influx of energy crashed into his body. His meridians trembled violently as power flooded through them. To supplement this surge, a huge mana whirlpool formed above the chamber, greedily sucking in mana from the surroundings.

If this chamber had not been built in a barren, isolated area, the disturbance would have alarmed countless people.

Ethan closed his eyes and focused.

Crack.

A subtle breaking sound echoed inside his body as another layer shattered. His body trembled, and he suddenly realized something.

The C-rank body tempering art he had been using had become useless.

“It cannot keep up anymore,” he muttered. “I can enhance it with flames burning around.”

“System, put ten years to upgrade and comprehend Crimson Flame Tempering Art.”

The moment the command left his lips, a massive stream of information crashed into Ethan’s mind. Symbols, diagrams, half formed insights, and fragmented concepts flooded his consciousness like a violent tide.

His head throbbed.

His vision blurred.

And then, just as suddenly as it came, everything slipped away.

The inspiration vanished.

The information scattered like smoke.

“What?” Ethan frowned, his brows knitting together. His jaw tightened as he waited for something, anything, to settle.

Nothing came.

“…It failed?” he muttered with a frustrated look.

Ten years.

Ten whole years of time poured in, yet he failed to comprehend anything meaningful.

“I can’t believe this,” he growled, irritation rising in his chest. “More. Pour more.”

His eyes hardened.

“Add one hundred years.”

BOOM!

His mind jolted awake as if struck by lightning. The pressure inside his head surged violently, forcing him to grit his teeth. This time, the information did not scatter. It came slower, heavier, and far more brutal.

Scenes flashed before his eyes.

He saw his own body burning, muscles cracking and reforming. He saw bones being tempered again and again, only to shatter under stronger flames. He saw scales forming, melting, and reforming endlessly.

Ethan staggered but remained standing.

He began to think.

“No… this art is flawed,” he murmured. “It tempers flesh with flames, but my body is no longer ordinary.”

He tried again and again inside his mind. He adjusted the circulation of mana. He increased flame density. He reduced it. He tested different rhythms. Each time, the result was the same.

“Failure…”

“Damn…My comprehension is really shit.”