I AM A MAGE BUT WITH MILF SYSTEM

Chapter 485: Hope for the future

Even the youngest in the crowd, who barely understood the weight of their village’s legacy, felt the change in the air.

The chief’s wife stared at him. “You never told me—”

“I couldn’t,” he said, not looking at her. “Not until it was certain.”

He looked out at his people now, voice deepening.

“I have dreamt the same dream for five nights. A voice—neither male nor female, neither angry nor kind—spoke to me. It said: The time is nearing. The seed that was denied will be given. The soil cursed shall sprout anew.”

He stepped down from the platform.

“I do not know if it is a blessing… or a trial. But something is changing. I feel it in the land. In the stars above. In the very blood of the few sons we still have.”

He looked toward Rael.

“In him too.”

The villagers turned to stare at Rael, some in awe, others in confusion. Rael, unsure what to feel, kept his eyes on the chief.

“This gathering isn’t just to mourn what we have lost,” the chief said. “It’s to decide how we’ll meet what’s coming. If the gods have opened the gates… then what lies beyond them may change everything.”

Women murmured among themselves, the sudden shift from despair to hope bringing new clarity in their lives.

“Yes!” cried an older woman, standing up with surprising strength in her voice. “If the gods are lifting our punishment, we cannot waste this chance!”

Another younger woman nodded quickly. “We must prepare the healthiest among us first—those who have the best chance of conceiving.”

“Agreed,” said a middle-aged woman, her hand protectively placed over her stomach. “We’ve all been careful for so long… but now, perhaps, we must stop holding back.”

The village head listened carefully and nodded.

“Speak freely,” he encouraged. “Tonight, nothing is taboo.”

A younger girl, barely older than Rael, raised her voice nervously, “Shouldn’t we… track who has given birth before? Maybe the ones who have had daughters have a better chance of bearing sons next time?”

“That makes sense,” another added. “And perhaps we should test bloodlines… like, which families have had the most daughters? Maybe the curse lingers heavier in some?”

“Then we should match those women with men whose lineage is least affected,” said a woman sitting close to the platform.

Another woman leaned forward eagerly. “What about the timing of conception? Some of the herbalists say the moon phase affects a baby’s sex…”

“We should record it!” the first woman cried. “Every time someone becomes pregnant, note the day, the moon, the hour—it could help!”

Suddenly, a woman from the back raised her voice, “But who will be the males we choose from? We only have five. We need to decide.”

The room fell quiet again.

“Yes,” another agreed. “We must test them tomorrow. See who’s the healthiest. Who has the most balanced energy and strength.”

“We can group the healthy women as well,” someone added, “and match them accordingly. Not randomly, but with purpose.”

A few women murmured their agreement. The air had changed—no longer just hope, but calculation and preparation.

“Yes,” the head approved, overjoyed by how eager and desperate everyone were to change their lives. “But remember… hope is not an excuse to lose our humanity. We begin with willing adults, the healthy ones. Volunteers only.”

“I will volunteer,” one of the women said, standing proudly. “If I can give this village a son, I will.”

“Me too,” another added.

“And me.”

Soon a wave of hands lifted through the hall.

The village head raised both hands, finalizing the decision. “Then we begin tomorrow. A list will be made. Names will be taken. Healers and herbalists will assist. From now on, we do not merely survive. We begin again.”

With that, the gathering slowly came to an end and with it, a new wave of hope that spread through the crowd like a rising sun.

Villagers quietly rose from the floor, their faces softening with resolve. Some carried renewed focus, others whispered prayers for a son—something they had longed for in silence.

They began to retreat to their homes, the chatter now filled with plans for the future.

Meanwhile,

Kain and Rael exchanged a brief look, their shared burden heavy but nonetheless important.

“Son, are you ready?” Kain asked. “Our people need us now more than ever.”

Rael’s eyes flickered with determination. “Yes, Father. I am ready. I will not fail them.”

The two turned and walked side by side, the evening light casting long shadows behind them. Their footsteps echoed softly on the dirt path as they made their way toward the house, just a few minutes from the head’s office.

Reaching their modest home, Rael lifted his hand and knocked on the weathered wooden door. After a few moments, the door creaked open, revealing a woman standing in the entrance.

Her short brown hair framed her face, and her warm brown eyes shone with a gentle light. She wore a simple village gown, reflecting the humble life they led.

“Rael, you’re here,” she said, a smile blossoming across her face. Her eyes then flickered toward Kain standing beside Rael. “And you, dear. You came back safely.”

She stepped aside to welcome them in. “How was the gathering? Did they share any news? I saw the crowd—there was much tension.”

Kain sighed deeply, rubbing the back of his neck before speaking.

“Yes, Annie. It was… different this time. The head made an announcement that caught us all off guard. He said the curse, the punishment we’ve lived under for so long—it’s starting to weaken. The gods have shown mercy, and the punishment will loosen.”

Her eyes widened in surprise, hope flickering but mingled with doubt. “That is… unexpected,” she murmured.

Kain continued, “But with that mercy comes responsibility. The head said we need to focus on rebuilding our numbers—starting with our breeding. You know how few men we have left.”

Annie’s gaze dropped to the floor, worry knitting her brows together. “Yes, the few males… it’s been so hard for so long.”

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