Path To Godhood Begins With Marrying Wife And Gaining SSS Rank Skill Chapter 1:The Handsome Servant

"ETHANNN!"

"ETHAANNNNN!!"

Bursts of thunderous cheers exploded repeatedly, flooding the venue with frenzied passion.

Every shout targeted the striking figure positioned squarely in the middle.

Standing six feet tall, he possessed a perfectly sculpted muscular physique, a chiseled jaw, intense eyes accented by dazzling white hair. A divine aura radiated from his very being.

Ethan was this man, the planet's top model boasting one of the largest fanbases ever.

"Mhmm... Mhmm... I love you all, my fans..." With a subtle grin, Ethan tossed kisses to the audience and formed a heart with his fingers.

The move sent the female fans into absolute frenzy.

"Ethan, marry me!"

"I want to bear your children."

"Ethan, your looks have captured my heart!"

"Ahhh, God! Now I can pass away happily!"

"Would Ethan shed tears if I died?"

"Can you even afford death?"

"Even death would be worthwhile!"

A twitch crossed Ethan’s mouth as he heard those words.

’Ladies... hold back a bit. My life gets messy if you go dying.’

Schedule wrapped up, security hustled him swiftly into the vehicle, abandoning the howling throng behind.

Once safely distant, Ethan massaged his face.

"Darn... grinning like a fool that long aches."

"Hey, your fangirls catch that, they’d weep buckets," his manager remarked from behind the wheel.

Ethan laughed lightly, yet his belly rumbled fiercely.

"Starving?" the manager inquired.

"Yep... exhausted too."

"Craving what?"

Ethan gazed through the glass, then jabbed a finger outward.

"Pull over! Spot a KFC! Fried chicken and Coke for me."

The vehicle eased to a stop around the bend from the outlet. A celebrity like Ethan entering directly would spark mayhem.

Manager hopped out. "I’ll fetch it. Stay put inside."

"Too wiped to budge," Ethan answered, reclining and shutting his lids.

Sleep nearly claimed him when blaring horns snapped him alert.

"Who’s the moron honking like crazy—" Eyes bulging, a massive truck barreled right at him.

"WHAT?!"

He groped for the door latch to flee, but the belt yanked him tight. Fingers stretched for the release as the truck crashed into them.

BOOM.

"GYAAAHHHH!" His agonized yell ripped through as he gripped his skull, steeling for agony and impact.

Yet no pain struck. A gentle breeze instead caressed his flesh, prickling chills along his back.

Eyes fluttering open gradually, he stood amid an endless meadow.

Towering blades of grass danced nearby, mud squelching underfoot soggily.

Glancing downward, he stiffened utterly bare.

"Hey... what’s that you’re up to?"

A voice boomed from his rear, harsh and abrupt like thunder crashing close.

...

Three years passed...

"Tskk...Tskk"

"Such a physique, Ethan. You ought to serve as a waiter in some major city. Ladies would queue up to take you in?"

"Take in?"

"Possible at all?"

"Why not? Does he fail to get it up?"

"Up? You seen his... massive dong yet? Words fail at the sight."

Laughter roared from the bunch, reverberating through the cramped servants’ dorm.

Target of the jabs, Ethan merely shook his head with a wry, faint smile. "Quit the dirty talk and start working."

Calm command laced his tone, needing no volume to command respect.

He fastened his servant attire, cloth whispering crisply. Fellow House Blanks male servants followed, smirks lingering.

"Ethan, serious here," one persisted. "Your looks make slaving away as a servant pure injustice."

Ethan clapped the guy’s shoulder solidly yet warmly. "Dreams lack power behind them, pal. Move out. No time to lose."

They emerged into dawn’s glow. Golden beams pierced the estate’s lofty panes, bathing gleaming tiles.

Blanks Manor buzzed outside; maids dashed yard-wide with hampers, broom scrapes blending with far-off pot bangs.

"Ethan, tend the horses and give them feed," Olive the chief butler barked sharply.

"Horses... once more?" Ethan grumbled quietly.

Olive’s piercing stare nailed him. "Since you handled feeding while Gregor was away, they reject all other hands."

Ethan’s mouth quirked, mix of humor and irritation. ’Why blame me if beasts prefer my touch?’

With a sigh, he headed to the stalls. Morning sun warmed his features; briefly, he tilted face skyward. "Fine morning," he whispered. Alone, his tone chilled.

He originated from another world entirely.

A transmigrator by fate, he neither took birth in this realm nor seized another's body. Previously on Earth, he'd soared to the heights as a fashion model and designer.

Standing six feet tall with white hair, his striking looks echoed Gojo's, sending 2D boy lover girls into absolute frenzy.

Simply put, he proved too irresistibly hot to manage.

Public appearances triggered fan chaos so intense that he'd escape in secrecy.

Fate then dealt him a cruel blow.

One day, entering his car, a truck barreled from nowhere and slammed into him.

Upon reopening his eyes, he lay naked in a wheat field—three years prior.

Youth renewed his body, skin flawlessly smooth, features sharper than his prime. A compassionate farmer sheltered him after his tale of bandits robbing and dumping him unconscious in the fields.

Luckily, English served as the local tongue, sparing him deeper woes.

After numerous twists, he arrived at Blanks Manor, crediting his entry mostly to his captivating appearance.

"I'd heard otakus dreaming of truck deaths for rebirth in another world, but reality hit hard."

"The God of Reincarnation could've shown pity, rebirth in a talented noble family instead of a random field toss."

Were there a reincarnation bureau, complaints about Truck-Kun's recklessness would fly.

"Get moving, Ethan, work awaits," he murmured to himself softly.

Stable doors groaned open, wafting hints of hay and warm leather inside. The Baron's elite warhorses awaited.

Towering and muscled, these beasts boasted shining coats and piercing gazes. Morning chill turned their breaths to misty puffs.

Ethan approached, hand softly stroking a horse's neck while offering straw bit by bit.

NEIGHHHH!

"What's up with you lot?" he whispered gently. "Fine for mares, but you're all stallions. Don't weird me out."

"Gay or something?"

Horses whinnied sharply, nearly snorting in response. A faint smile curved his lips as a soft laugh escaped.

Suddenly, outside voices rose in alarm with rushing feet shattering the peace.

Ethan snapped his head around. "What's that?"

He spun and stiffened. Armored guards, blood-soaked and numerous, surged in bearing a savagely beaten man.

Recognition drained color from Ethan's face.

"Lord Baron..."

His thoughts blanked out. Wounded troops he'd witnessed, but never such a horde drenched in gore storming together.

Panic drove him toward them. "What occurred?"

A guard spotted him and bellowed from distance, "Hurry! Fetch Sir Oliver for a doctor. The Lord's hanging by a thread!"

No time lost, Ethan bolted, located Oliver, and relayed the dire news swiftly.

Chaos engulfed the mansion. Servants dashed everywhere amid panicked wails filling corridors.

Ethan spotted a long-black-haired beauty, face ashen with terror, hastening upward.

Her eyes hesitated on him briefly, but he looked away. The Baron's charming daughter often flirted, yet he dodged; today, just a glance before departing.

A servant noted it, saying, "Why not accept her? Always fleeing girls—are you into guys or what?"

Ethan flipped the middle finger at the man nearby.

Suddenly maids encircled him, expressions strained. "What happened?" one pressed.

"How'd the Lord suffer such wounds?" another urged.

Queries bombarded from all angles.

"I know nothing," Ethan replied, head shaking. Tension thickened further.

Someone whispered, "What if the Baron perishes?"

"Insane talk!" another snapped, clamping the mouth shut to avert disaster.

.....

Upstairs hung a thick, somber atmosphere.

A young lady stood rigid, lips clenched, complexion ghostly shocked. "How could this be? Father left for a mere outing—why so gravely injured?"

The head maid Nina steadied her shoulders. "My Lady, compose yourself. You're in command now. Don't falter," she urged anxiously.

Sophie Blank was the Baron's sole daughter. Her birth claimed her mother; the deeply loving Baron stayed unwed.

Regarding heirs, though no son, the Baron fretted not. Sophie wedding a talented man to birth a gifted boy would secure the lineage.

Right then, Randal—the head knight and the Baron’s most loyal aide—spoke up, his tone thick with remorse. "It’s our fault. We should have kept the Lord from entering the mines."

"But who could’ve foreseen running into a beast so horrifying at the Intermediate stage?"

Sophie’s eyes went wide. "A beast? What became of it?"

"The Lord unleashed all his power and slew it... but paid a dreadful price." Tears trailed down Randal’s cheeks as he continued.

Moments later, the doctor rushed in, checked the Baron, and shook his head grimly. "I’m powerless here. We require healing potions."

His declaration sparked panic among all those gathered.

"I’ve already dispatched men to fetch the potions, whatever the price," Oliver declared, his face darkened with worry.

In that instant, the Baron’s hand stirred.

"Sophie..."

"Father, stay silent," Sophie urged swiftly, desperate to hush him.

He shook his head weakly and caressed her cheek tenderly. "Sophie... Forgive me for not being able to remain at your side."

"No, don’t say that..."

"Hear me out," he urged, his voice growing faint.

"You must wed without delay. I grant you the choice of him, but bear a child swiftly. No more stubbornness."

"You need to grow up.."

"Father..stop...I promise...I’ll be good so please.."

"Sophh...My love.."

The Baron, who had been murmuring softly with joy, suddenly went still, the spark in his eyes extinguished. His hand slid from hers and dropped limply beside him.

All in the room stood frozen briefly, leaving Sophie and the others in stunned confusion.

"HUHHH!"

Shock and utter disbelief gripped them so intensely that no one could move for several minutes.

"NOOO!"

"MY LORDD!"

"FATHERRRR"

Soon, cries of anguish and sorrow rang out through the entire barony.