Path To Godhood Begins With Marrying Wife And Gaining SSS Rank Skill Chapter 2:Ethan..I Choose You

A profound sorrow enveloped the entire manor.

This heaviness left a bitter taste in everyone's heart.

Though the Baron wasn't a remarkable figure, he had always shown kindness to all.

Ethan lingered silently in a corner of the estate, his eyes wandering to the graveyard where a thick silence hung as mourners arrived, paid their respects, and departed.

And there among them stood Sophia in a black dress, her eyes swollen from tears.

"She was always so vibrant and full of life, but now grief has subdued her spirit... It pains me to see her like this."

And who wouldn't feel the same? When a woman who cares for you, flirts with you, and lifts your spirits suddenly turns melancholic, no one enjoys witnessing it.

He released a long, drawn-out sigh.

"In this world ruled by magic and might, where monsters roam wildly and gods shower blessings, ordinary folks remain fragile unless they seize the world's power," he pondered inwardly.

"They claim the gods safeguard the weak... Utter nonsense."

"Alas..."

"Other transmigrators snag systems or unique powers. But me? Nothing at all. Totally worthless."

Ethan hadn't just sat idle—he'd made his own attempts.

After scrimping and saving, he'd once departed Blank City to assess his aptitude.

The verdict crushed him: he possessed none.

F-rank aptitude, the lowest tier, qualified one for warrior or mage paths, enabling Novice rank.

From there came Novice Rank, Intermediate, Advanced Rank, and Master Rank.

Higher stages likely existed, though his knowledge was limited.

No magical talent graced him, nor any warrior's gift.

Like many, he'd fantasized about gaining strength and etching his legacy into history. Yet lacking any edge, what options remained?

His sole path was staying humble and enduring. Servant life proved tolerable—no degradations or excessive toil. Indeed, his natural charm deterred harsh treatment and eased his chores.

"Ethan... Sir Oliver calls you to assist the guests."

"Coming!" Ethan called back, rising swiftly to his tasks.

The visitors offering respects were taken aback by Ethan's striking features.

If not for the somber occasion, many seemed ready to seek his hand in marriage.

......

The funeral dragged on for five full days, keeping the servants relentlessly occupied. When it concluded at last, they received a brief respite.

In that interval, Ethan contemplated his prospects. Devoid of the Baron's safeguard, the estate could draw predators eager to seize control.

"Human greed has no limits... I'm certain eyes have already turned toward this lady..."

A twinge of sorrow and envy struck him at the thought of her wedding another, yet what power did he hold?

Beasts and myriad perils loomed as well.

He mulled over whether to depart.

His reflections shattered as a voice summoned him.

"Ethan, you're summoned to the office."

"The office? Why?" Ethan blurted, stunned.

"No idea. It's Sir Oliver's command." The man shrugged with feigned innocence.

Ethan nodded curtly and headed off.

Moments later, he faced the imposing wooden door. With a gentle knock, he requested entry.

Within sat Lady Sophie at the desk, her complexion ashen from weariness. She'd lost considerable weight.

Once rather plump, she now appeared strikingly refined.

At her side stood Sir Oliver, Sir Randal, and head maid Nina.

Ethan's pulse raced.

"Holy... why does this feel like I'm walking to my execution?" he fretted anxiously.

Oliver cleared his throat, snapping Ethan's focus. "Mind your manners."

Ethan straightened up, bowed deeply, and intoned, "Greetings, My Lady. I extend my profound respects and heartfelt condolences for your loss."

Sophie fixed her gaze on him, her tone steady yet resolute. "Enough with the pleasantries—straight to the matter."

"Ethan... Do you wish to become the Baron?"

Ethan blinked in disbelief. "Pardon me?"

For an instant, devilish whispers seemed to echo in his ears.

"I must've misheard that... right?" he wondered.

But Sophie's features hardened. "Are you deaf?"

"No... it's just so abrupt. Forgive me if I've slighted you."

Sophie let out a soft laugh. "No need for such rigidity. I'm not upset, and my proposal remains."

She leaned in a touch. "I select you as my groom."

Ethan's mouth quirked faintly, though he held steady. "My Lady, might I inquire why me? Nobles vie endlessly for your hand, yet you'd pick a simple commoner?"

Sophie's grin widened. She shot a confident glance toward Randal and Nina.

"You are sharp and grasp things swiftly," Nina remarked in her cool tone.

Oliver jumped in with the explanation. "I’ve always recognized your sharper wits compared to typical servants or commoners. The logic should be obvious to you. Marrying Lady Sophie to a son from another noble house risks them grabbing power, with no assurance otherwise. Choosing someone like you is much safer by far."

"Is that the sole reason?" Ethan inquired, his tone steady yet probing.

The trio beside Sophie directed their piercing stares at him.

Sophie spoke in an even voice, though her statement packed gravity. "Must I state the other reason plainly? You’re handsome, charismatic, and entirely to my taste. Never have I encountered anyone as captivating as you, not even in noble circles."

Her face remained poised, yet a subtle flush colored the edges of her ears.

Heat climbed to Ethan’s cheeks.

'Damn... that hit too straight,' he pondered.

"So," Sophie went on, "what’s your decision?"

Ethan’s eyes shifted from her to the other three. They locked their gazes on him, awaiting his reply.

Such a proposal was extraordinary.

Husband to her would bring safety and ease. No longer fretting over rank or funds. Still, notions of perils from schemes, rivals, and hidden dangers bred his hesitation.

"I... I..."

Ere he could complete it, Sophie interjected. "Everyone..."

The three faced her.

"Give us a moment alone," she commanded.

"My Lady..." Oliver started.

"We cannot possibly..." Randal chimed.

Sophie’s stare stayed resolute. "I must speak frankly with him. I’ll resolve his uncertainties. Also, your being here is flustering him."

A lengthy silence hung before they grudgingly assented and departed, abandoning the pair in solitude.

Ethan squirmed beneath Sophie’s intense look. "My Lady... we ought not be alone," he murmured, pivoting toward the exit.

Yet before a single stride, a gentle hand encircled his waist, jolting Ethan.

Seconds prior, she’d lingered by the table’s side, but now stood right before him.

"MY LADY!" He longed to bolt, yet her hold tightened.

"You... where do you think you’re headed?" Sophie’s voice dropped low, silky, and enticing, each syllable teasing his senses.

"Didn’t you hear? I want a true heart-to-heart with you."

Her gaze pinned his, the earlier faint blush enduring, now fused with earnest determination, sending his heartbeat racing.