Chapter 1
Chapter 1
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 1
Chapter Title: Fucking a Demon Sword
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This world has Demon Swords.
And they could transform into humans—more precisely, women.
They were powerful, mysterious, and breathtakingly beautiful.
No one knew where they came from, but people called them all sorts of things.
Some said they were saviors.
Others called them spirits.
And some revered them as goddesses.
Not a single label was wrong.
Humanity borrowed their strength to battle monsters.
At the same time, they blended into society, living ordinary lives.
...Until the Demon Swords fell to corruption and turned the tables, dooming the world to ruin.
'If I'd known it would end like this, I would've lived a hell of a lot wilder.'
I thought that as I gazed at the ruined world.
Mine had been an utterly ordinary life, nothing special about it.
The life of an artisan who crafted and maintained swords.
Sure, I'd occasionally wield one and venture into a dungeon for some hunting.
But the results were always mediocre.
Because I was just a plain human, never chosen by any Demon Sword.
Everyone else lived like this, so I figured that was that.
Only a tiny fraction could become heroes or get chosen by Demon Swords.
I just worked day by day to make ends meet.
Socked away a little from each paycheck into savings.
Dreamed of buying a car with it—or maybe, way down the line, a house.
I had no special talents, no extraordinary gifts.
Even with grueling effort, I could barely touch the heels of those hailed as geniuses.
Still, I'd done my best, and I took pride in pulling my own weight.
Even if given another shot, I'd live the same life.
So I couldn't wrap my head around it.
"Please, Lee Si-hyun. Save this world."
Not even when I died, opened my eyes again, and met the Sword Goddess.
Not even when I regressed to a time before the fall.
Why me, of all people?
That's what was on my mind.
"And to save the world... please fuck the Demon Swords..."
Until the blushing goddess dropped that bombshell I couldn't care less about.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ "Humans really are pathetically weak."
I muttered self-mockingly as I surveyed my surroundings.
No one else was there.
Twenty-four of us had entered the fight.
Only one survived.
Me.
It wasn't due to any special skill.
I'd just gotten lucky with the killing blow.
Without that bit of fortune, I'd be in the same boat as the rest.
Did that sacrifice save the world?
...Not even close.
"How the hell is this a C-rank Demon Sword's power?"
Demon Swords varied wildly in strength.
Humans ranked them from D-rank to S-rank.
The higher the rank, the stronger they got.
Yeah. C-rank.
Taking down a mere C-rank Demon Sword cost the lives of all my comrades.
"...Goddamn it. What's the point of fighting like that? There are still other Demon Swords out there."
One day, the Demon Swords humanity trusted turned corrupt.
After that, they cut down anyone in sight.
Most Demon Swords were contracted to 'heroes' by default.
People with exceptional personal power or the elite.
Those close to high-rank Demon Swords were always cut from that cloth.
And naturally, the Demon Swords started by killing those closest to them.
In other words, humanity kicked off the war with its key forces assassinated right out the gate.
All the leaders vanished in an instant.
Humanity lost the time to grasp the situation or rally forces.
...It was a fight we could never win from the start.
Just look at how dozens died taking down this second-rate C-rank.
Unorganized humans, already pushed aside early on for being weak—how could we possibly win?
"...This is bullshit."
Until moments ago, I'd been a powerless civilian.
Yet I'd staked my life on this fight.
The result? Near-total annihilation in a mutual kill.
Against one of the weaker Demon Swords, a C-rank.
Not worth the cost.
I had nothing to say to my fallen comrades.
Settle for a draw and call it a day?
No way.
"...I'll get revenge for you."
My madness-glazed eyes turned to the Demon Sword in my hand.
The sword, which had been in female form until recently, was now sealed back into an ordinary blade.
In this state, a Demon Sword was dead—devoid of power or emotion.
Nothing but an object.
A plain old sword, through and through.
But that didn't matter to me now.
What mattered was vengeance for my dead comrades.
So what if this was just insulting a fallen foe?
-Sching
I drew the sword straight from its sheath.
Normally, I'd inspect the blade, but not today.
My target was the opening in the sheath.
-Squelch!
I slathered it thick with slick gel.
Just like prepping an onahole at home.
"Huff, huff."
Truth be told, this insane idea hadn't crossed my mind from the start.
But watching my comrades die right in front of me twisted my thoughts bit by bit.
Demon Swords didn't seem to feel pain even in death.
And we'd only killed a fraction compared to their numbers.
So at least this much humiliation had to balance the scales, right?
"Good thing it's a big sword. If it were a dagger, it wouldn't even fit."
I coated the entrance generously with gel for smooth entry.
Then I pulled out my dick.
Unfortunately, the sword itself didn't get me hard.
So I pulled out a photo of her in female form—one I'd prepped for recon before the assault.
Never thought it'd see action in battle, but here we were.
"...Damn, she really is gorgeous."
Devils who'd massacred countless humans.
But their looks and bodies? Undeniable.
Beauty like a goddess had sculpted them by hand, with curves that screamed sex.
Even their outfits were subtly revealing, dialing up the eroticism.
Was this what it felt like if a real goddess descended to punish mortals?
'...The whole of humanity fell for that allure.'
I stared at her stunning photo and imagined fucking her.
Slowly, my cock stiffened.
Before it could go soft, I thrust it into the sheath.
"Ngh."
Honestly, it didn't feel amazing.
The sheath was rigid by nature, of course.
Without the gel, I couldn't have gotten it in.
But I hadn't started this for pleasure anyway.
I just mechanically pumped the sheath like it was my duty. -Plap! Plap! Plap! Plap! Plap! Plap!
I hypnotized myself into thinking I was pounding the brutal bitch from the photo.
After a good while, the urge to cum finally built up.
I unloaded straight into the sheath.
"Hoo."
Once I finished, rationality trickled back.
A crash of regret and emptiness hit hard.
What was the point of this?
"It's not like I'm fucking a live Demon Sword. This won't humiliate them."
And it hadn't even felt good.
A cheap onahole would've been better.
Hell, probably better than thrusting into tofu.
I tossed the soiled sheath aside.
In the end, all that remained was hollow despair.
"Sigh. Still, gotta make my survival count."
After busting a nut and catching my breath, my head cleared a bit.
I packed up roughly and stood.
Plenty to do.
Just cleanup would take days, and I'd have to seriously plan my next moves.
Whatever it took, I'd thrash around to survive.
"Alright, then."
With that, I headed outside.
And that's when our eyes met.
A woman with long golden hair cascading down her armored form.
"Ah..."
My first thought upon seeing her? She's fuckable as hell.
Maybe because I'd just jammed my dick in a sheath like a lunatic.
My brain was wired straight to sex mode.
'Not entirely my fault, though.'
This Demon Sword was just too damn hot.
Massive tits that screamed violence, tapering to a wasp-thin waist.
In stark contrast, hips and ass that jutted out boldly.
Every curve in the right places—swollen where it counted.
Enough to rouse a man who'd just cum.
A body optimized for breeding, plain and simple.
'...I'm fucked.'
My next thought: my life ends here.
Demon Sword power and looks tended to scale together.
Meaning bigger tits and hips equaled stronger swords.
Not always, but statistically.
And as a former artisan, I could sense her mana.
'S-rank.'
Top of the top among all Demon Swords.
Even scouring the world, S-ranks were rarer than rare.
Korea's own Demon Sword and guild master, Sign, was A+ rank.
That alone hinted at her power.
We'd sacrificed dozens just for a C-rank.
An S-rank? Unthinkable.
Impossible solo, probably impossible at all.
'It's over.'
At that point, I gave up on life.
Fighting, blocking, even running—pointless.
In her presence, I was less than a bug.
So instead, I stared her down squarely.
If it was the end, I'd face it with dignity.
Gathering my last defiance, I spat it out.
"You look fucking delicious."
-Slash!
That sound pierced my ears.
She'd already swung her arm.
Too late, I realized my throat was slit.
And so, my final act was jerking off into a sheath as I met my end.
'...This is bullshit.'
I thought, deep down.
If I'd had power, I could've fucked her good and proper.
Of course, pointless garbage thoughts.
Like everyone else, I'd die and vanish from this world.
A world-changing power? Never in the cards for an ordinary guy like me.
I just prayed to be reborn an alpha who could take down Demon Swords next time.
.
.
.
.
"...So why the hell am I alive?"
I blinked and was fine, very much alive.
Is this that regression thing?
Dazed for a moment, I reflexively shouted.
"Status Window!" ⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙ [Scanning nearby Demon Swords.] 👤 Name: Glaou 🏷️ Rank: S-rank 🌑 Attribute: Darkness 💋 Lust: 2/10 🎵 Sensitivity: 9/10 ❤️ Favor: 8/10 Conquest Guide:
[The Sword Goddess who has chosen you as the hero to save this world. She starts with high favorability and has a personality weak to persistence, so if you keep pushing and begging, the odds of her giving in are high.] "...This actually works?"
But there was one problem.
No matter how I looked at it, this wasn't my Status Window.
This seemed like... info on a Demon Sword.
So whose was it?