I Too Have Become a Female
"Let go of me, Vincent! I need to wash it out right now! If I don't get it all out, I'll get pregnant — there's just too much of it!"
But Vincent showed no intention whatsoever of releasing the legs he had pinned.
"Adela, I told you, didn't I? As my wife, you have a duty to bear my children."
"No! I have no intention of bearing your child!"
"Didn't you swear it? You said you'd become a female who bears my child."
That lunatic — he breaks his promises first, then demands I keep mine.
"You broke the promise first! Let go of me, you insane bastard!"
There was no room for kind words in a situation like this.
"Adela, you took far too long to make up your mind."
shameless man, blaming me for everything.
What in the world happened to him while he was off slaying the Demon King…?
Vincent pulled me into his chest, gathering me up with ease as I thrashed and squirmed, trying to wriggle free.
He was never like this. What in God's name did those demon bastards do to my disciple?
The first time I met him, Vincent was a remarkably quiet child — composed, calculating, cool-headed.
It was right after the Demon King's resurgence — that great calamity. Word had spread of a small mountain village where a prophecy was delivered: a hero destined to stand against the Demon King had been born there. Curiosity carried me to that village.
But by the time I arrived, the village had already been turned into a living hell. The demon realm's elite had been dispatched to find and eliminate the child destined to oppose the Demon King — and they'd gotten there first.
True to their title as elites, their methods were merciless. They butchered not only the child they'd come for but every living thing that might bear witness, leaving nothing behind.
That was when I found Vincent.
I met his eyes mid-swing, carving through the swarming demon horde like a moth hurling itself into flame.
Though Vincent trembled with the will to survive, soaked in the blood of parents who had died shielding him with their own bodies, only his eyes — deep and blue like the abyssal sea — stayed calm, watching everything unfold with terrifying stillness.
When not a single one of the Demon King's soldiers remained, I returned to the spot where I'd first collided with the strange little boy, and there he was — out of his parents' arms now, clutching the cold, stiffening hands of his mother and father.
I could see him fighting back the tears, so I rested a hand on his head and let him cry until he had nothing left to shed.
However composed a child he seemed, I would never tell someone so young to endure the grief of losing his family. All I could offer was this: cry it all out, and it will feel lighter — and live on, carrying your parents' share of that life with you.
In return, I tended to the dead sprawled across the blood-soaked village.
The villagers had been torn apart so thoroughly that their original owners were unrecognizable, so I gathered them together and offered a combined rite. The boy's parents, the only ones still bearing any recognizable shape, received graves of their own, and I prayed for their peaceful rest.
The child wept so much it seemed impossible that such a small body could hold that much water — as if he were spending every tear he would ever shed in his lifetime. And from that day forward, he never cried again. Not once.
It broke my heart to see it.
Perhaps it was because my own circumstances in my past life came flooding back.
Having entirely forgotten what I'd originally come for, I swept through the village gathering anything of use.
Taking the boy in my arms and setting out on the road — that was the strange, twisted thread of fate that first tied Vincent and me together.
After that, Vincent — perhaps because he couldn't bear to be cast aside — began helping with my work as though trying to prove his own worth.
At what point did it begin? When did he start looking at me with desire in his eyes?
"Vincent…."
Having tucked me into his embrace, Vincent pressed our bodies flush together, sharing his warmth as if satisfied, and met my gaze with eyes full of adoration.
"Let me wash."
"Adela, do you want it that badly? Then call me 'seobang-nim.' Do that, and I might just allow it — on the condition that we wash together."
"Please. Vincent, don't do this. We can't do this."
"Why can't we? Adela, we were joined by the bonds of marriage."
"What bonds of marriage? If I could be forced into one, did you honestly think I'd obediently call you 'seobang-nim' and fall in line?"
"You swore it."
"Th-that was…! You forced me to say it!!"
"Whether forced or freely given, an oath spoken once is a covenant that will not break — not even if the world turns upside down."
Those were words I could not simply let pass.
"Hold on — Covenant of the Oath?"
The Covenant of the Oath.
It was a contract forged through the power of the gods.
I had heard of it before — a kind of curse that binds the one who swears, compelling them to fulfill the contract's terms. Depending on the conditions, it could even force a person to accept things utterly unreasonable. Its execution was said to require a special artifact.
So why was that coming up here?
"Answer me. Covenant of the Oath? You're lying."
"I have no reason to lie. That's right — the Covenant of the Oath."
"The one where breaking your oath puts a specific curse on you — that one?"
"Correct."
The world began to swim before my eyes.
In Vincent's hand, a ring — presumably that very special artifact — was crumbling away, dissolving into nothing.
I hastily examined my own body, but apart from the aching, violated traces between my legs and Vincent's semen still seeping out in sticky rivulets, nothing was wrong with me.
Perhaps it wasn't too late.
I was neither patient enough nor thick-skinned enough to quietly play along with this absurd farce called a Covenant of the Oath.
The sheer humiliation made my hands tremble — but if I lived on clinging to delusions, my life would be ruined beyond any hope of repair.
A hollow laugh escaped me.
What is this, even?
Had I known this would happen, I never would have taken that little boy in back then.
Anger surged.
What right did he have to bind me?
What? A female? Pregnancy?
Don't make me laugh.
You think I'll do as you please?
I gathered my internal energy, ran the Heavenly Demon Divine Art, and converted it into staggering destructive force. The whole process completed before my eyelids had even finished falling in a single blink.
My fist tore through the wall of air with a thunderous roar and slammed squarely into Vincent's face, and the shockwave from the blow made the entire log cabin groan.
"Don't. You know you can't win. You'll regret this."
But Vincent didn't dodge. Instead, he stared with naked concern at the fist flying into his face.
His eyes worried — whether my hand might have been hurt.
That's right. My black divine fist — the one that could punch a hole clean through anything, man or demon — was having its power diluted, all because of an existence that defied the very laws of reality, one that should never have been possible.
His body didn't so much as flinch under a fist wrapped in hardened qi, and gooseflesh crawled up my skin as the fear I'd thought I'd forgotten long ago stirred back to life.
The boy who had once been my disciple had pressed me down beneath overwhelming power.
He had become a monster I couldn't seize even the slightest advantage over, no matter how fully I committed myself.
And now that monster was toying with me, raping me, making me his wife, declaring he'd fill me with his children.
The Vincent I knew no longer existed.
Before he became something I could only flee from, I would try to run — before trying even became impossible.
I threw another punch, praying desperately that he wouldn't notice.
If he truly meant to trample my dignity, grind me beneath him, and drag me down into degradation as a female, then he'd better steel himself.
Vincent — from this moment on, I am going to wound you terribly.
My left hand drove forward like lightning, and the instant it struck the wall of impossibility and was rebuffed, I shifted my right hand into the blade-form of a spearhand and drove it into my own chest.
From the very first blow, I knew.
I couldn't even escape from Vincent.
If he had so much as staggered, I might have used that opening to put distance between us and bolt. But Vincent, arms wrapped around me, had taken my punch rather than dodging it — and it hadn't landed as a strike at all. Instead, the pain became mine, and he left me not a single gap through which to slip free of his embrace.
Which left me only one way out.
Forming my palm-blade, I sharpened it to a keen edge and prayed with everything I had that it would reach my heart before he could snatch my wrist.
Caught off guard, Vincent flinched and failed to stop me.
I'd rather die than writhe underneath you and bear your children, you son of a bitch.
I felt something graze my sternum — my hand should have punched straight through my chest and closed around my heart — but all that remained was a dull, heavy throb of pain.
That blow had been charged with internal energy. Whatever stood in its way — bone, muscle — it should have punched through it all and reached my heart. Instead it had stopped dead against my sternum, advancing not another inch.
It was a deeply wrong sensation. Not the feeling of something blocking me — something far more sickening, as if a command not my own had been issued from my brain, freezing my hand mid-strike and cutting off my own suicide.
"So you tried to end your own life, Adela."
"How… how is this possible…? Is this because of the Covenant of the Oath too?"
"Of course. You haven't fulfilled the terms of the contract yet, have you, Adela?"
"The terms of the contract…?"
"You know them better than anyone, Adela."
'Nnghh…! I swear that I am Vincent Rainer's… his f-female…!'
'His female, I swear it! That I will receive his seed, conceive his child, raise it with devoted care, and when it is born, receive his seed again and conceive once more — a female!'
'I so declare!'
The oath I had wailed out like a sob, accepting Vincent's cock inside me, was carved into my memory, impossible to forget.
Shame and humiliation set my face burning crimson.
In the end, I had made the same choice my mother did.
No — if anything, my plight was even more wretched than hers.
My mother, at least, had the freedom to gamble with her own life. Whatever her will in the matter, if she had fled far away and hidden, perhaps she could have lived forgetting that man.
But I was different.
Even that freedom had been stripped from me.
Vincent would never release me from his arms, and no one alive would ever take me from him.
By the oath's power, I had been rendered incapable even of suicide — unless I fulfilled the sentence of ceaselessly bearing Vincent's children.
"Now then — how should I punish my wicked wife, who tried to escape me through the coward's door of suicide?"
Vincent gathered me into his arms and folded me over atop himself, smiling that slow, curling smile as he searched for a way to discipline me.
"How about this — every time you try to break your oath, Adela, I'll force your body into heat?"
The instant the words left his mouth, my entire body shuddered violently, waiting — as if it had only been waiting — until I trembled head to toe with want.
"And that thirst, you'll only ever be able to quench through me."
"Ugh, you… you wretched bastard…!!"
With air bleeding out of my lungs like a punctured bellows, that trembling voice was all I could manage to curse him with.
"Since you've offended me so grievously, I suppose I'll have to comfort this needy little thing of yours one more time, Adela."
Revived and hardening again, the heat of his cock pressed against me, and my womb wailed in answer, as if calling out to its lost mate. My teeth ground together at that reaction.
"Absolutely. Not! Aaahn!!"
The pleasure seized my entire body and wrung it dry, and my mind nearly flew apart.
Vincent wrapped his arms around my waist and began to plunder my womb with his hips alone, drawing out thick, wet slaps of flesh. The semen that hadn't managed to escape between the walls of my flesh surged backward and spilled out of me.
"Hyaa! No, stop!"
I pressed both palms against his broad chest and pushed, resisting — but the pleasure bent my spine like a drawn bow, and my face buried itself instead against the very chest I was shoving at.
"Nnghah! Hah! Mmghhaahh!"
Beast-like sobs — cries that were no true screams — filled the log cabin to its rafters, heedless of the dawn beginning to break in the sky outside.