Chapter 1 : In Her Era, the Loser Becomes the Wife

The smoke of battle cleared, and the rumbling finally ceased.

The earth had split apart, forming a massive crater. 

In the center of that deep pit, amidst a pool of blood and wreckage, lay the enormous head of a dragon. 

The dragon’s amber vertical pupils slowly drooped.

With the last of its life force, it gazed at the silver-haired woman who knelt on one knee in the blood, propped up by her sword. 

Even in death, it did not close its eyes, maintaining that final gaze.

Above the woman’s head hovered a phantom-like black crown, formed by a circle of pulsating dark stars.

As the woman opened her eyes, the crown gradually faded away.

She panted lightly, then lifted her head to look at the now-lifeless dragon.

There was no joy of victory on Enya’s face—only a hint of melancholy sorrow in her golden eyes.

As she looked on, the corners of her mouth curled slightly, as a certain image surfaced in her mind—a beautiful girl with long pink hair.

Her name was Vivienne, a princess of the Empire.

Before the expedition, she had said to Enya, “If you can’t defeat the dragon, just run away. Enya, you must come back alive. I’ve prepared a huge surprise for you.”

Run away? 

You’re underestimating me.

With great effort, Enya pushed herself to stand. 

She was exhausted, her magic nearly depleted.

This battle had been far more difficult than expected.

But thinking of the surprise Vivienne had prepared for her, her mood lightened. 

As she stood, she looked down at herself and muttered with mixed feelings:

“Why did I get reincarnated as a woman?”

Enya had originally been a male college student… that’s right, a male college student!

Due to an accident, he was transmigrated into this new world—and quite unfortunately, into the body of a baby girl. 

After growing up, that baby became the silver-haired, golden-eyed beauty now known as Enya.

She had drawn the “duke’s illegitimate daughter with trash-tier talents” start.

In this world of swords and magic, people were divided into “bloodliners” and “common-blooded.” Classic bloodline supremacy ideology ran rampant.

Powerful bloodlines bestowed strength, while common-blooded individuals struggled to even reach half that potential in their entire lives.

But Enya became an exception.

Born as the illegitimate daughter of Duke Frennard, she was a common-blooded girl—a stain that should have been erased. 

Yet the duke did not kill her.

Instead, he imprisoned Enya in a remote mountain castle. 

Though she was waited on by servants, she was not allowed to leave or speak to anyone.

Like a canary in a gilded cage, she was kept in isolation for thirteen long years.

Ten years ago, with only first-tier strength, she escaped from the prison built by her own blood father and fled the fate of being a decorative puppet.

That was when her journey of cultivation began.

While on the run, she met Vivienne—the imperial princess traveling incognito.

She stargazed with an elven saintess in the Great Forest.

She nearly died after falling into a pit in the snowy lands with a certain sharp-tongued nine-tailed fox maiden.

She explored ancient ruins, formed a bond with an immortal petite witch, and even shared a fleeting connection with a then-unascended demon queen.

Those years of adventure could fill an entire novel…

But they were now in the past.

Two months ago, Enya returned to where it all began. 

She confronted Duke Frennard, broke through in battle, and ascended to the ninth-tier saint level—becoming the only human sword saint of her time, and the only common-blooded sword saint in history.

That should have been the climactic ending to her story. 

But Enya’s life didn’t end there—she still had many years ahead of her.

After exacting revenge on her father, she felt lost.

Enya had devoted the first half of her life to that one goal. 

But after achieving it, she found herself hollow inside. 

At Vivienne’s request, Enya agreed to become her personal knight and had since remained by her side.

A few days ago, news arrived that a dragon had destroyed a border city.

Enya’s long-dormant heart stirred for a moment.

But only for a moment… Reflected in her golden eyes were the shattered remains of the dragon’s corpse and the lake of dragon blood surrounding it.

She had slain the dragon that had annihilated an entire imperial city and caused the deaths of over a million people.

As long as she returned, she would be hailed as a dragon-slaying hero.

Yet Enya lowered her lashes, feeling only emptiness.

“Hm?”

Suddenly, a great change occurred. 

In the sky above, an enormous vertical pupil opened. 

It glanced briefly at the dragon’s corpse before settling its gaze on Enya. 

That single eye radiated an oppressive majesty no mortal could resist.

But that suffocating pressure stirred something in Enya—excitement.

The strange crown above her head reappeared, and the crushing spiritual pressure abruptly lifted.

The giant vertical pupil narrowed slightly, as if becoming deeply interested in Enya.

Just as she prepared to confront this new threat, the indistinct figure of a blonde woman appeared before her. 

Even as a ninth-tier Sword Saint, Enya dared not underestimate this woman whose depths were unreadable.

Without hesitation, she drew upon all her remaining magic. 

Her slender arm gripped her sword tightly and unleashed a thread-thin beam of energy—delicate, yet capable of annihilating mountains and rivers.

But the blonde woman—her face still indistinct—simply smiled faintly. 

She made no move to dodge or defend, letting the mighty sword light sweep across her neck.

It didn’t cut. 

Not even a reaction.

As if the blade had passed through a phantom…Enya’s heart tightened. 

This woman was far stronger than she’d anticipated. 

She immediately tried to retreat.

But in the blink of an eye, the blonde woman was already in front of her.

Almost nose to nose.

Enya was struck in the abdomen by a plain, unadorned punch. 

She crashed to the ground in a mess of limbs, looking utterly defeated.

After the dragon battle, she was already at her limit.

That punch scattered what little magic she had left. 

Her consciousness nearly unraveled.

She tried to rise—but took another punch.

This blow nearly knocked her out. 

The blonde woman grabbed her by the collar, her expression tinged with amusement, and teased:

“In my era, the loser becomes the wife.”

Dazed from the two blows, Enya still instinctively turned her head as the woman leaned closer.

But the blonde woman ruthlessly grabbed her chin, tilted it back, and planted a kiss on her lips.

Enya could only watch, wide-eyed, as the blurred features of the blonde woman drew nearer—and she had no strength left to resist. 

When their soft lips met, her mind went completely blank with a loud buzzing.

As soon as their lips parted, the dragon’s corpse and the pool of blood stirred unnaturally. 

Threads of golden-red light were drawn out and began to crawl toward Enya, vine-like, weaving into her wounds, seeping into every bone and muscle.

The blonde woman let go of Enya’s chin and gently tapped her lower abdomen.

Immediately, Enya felt a burning, swelling sensation deep inside her belly. 

It was as if… something had been added.

A chill gripped her heart. 

She was instantly sobered.

Feeling the strange changes in her body, an unexplainable fear surged within Enya.

She clamped her legs together and cried out in panic:

“Y-You… What did you do to me?!”

“A little welcome gift. I hope you’ll like it~”

The blonde woman’s smile deepened.

And Enya watched in horror as her lower belly began to…

…

AAAAAHHH!

A year later, in the barren northern lands, inside a shabby rented apartment in the backwater town of Redpine, a woman covered in sweat bolted upright in bed, gasping for breath.

No—perhaps she wasn’t quite human anymore?

The woman lying on the bed had an enchantingly curvaceous figure, but she wore only a coarse, plain linen dress—the kind only the very poor would wear. 

Yet her face was stunningly beautiful, almost unearthly.

Right now, however, she had just awakened from a nightmare. 

Her face was pale and weary, and her body soaked in sweat.

Her dazed expression held a tragic, sorrowful beauty.

She had long, silvery hair—a rare color. 

And between the disheveled strands protruded a pair of black horns. 

The horns curved backward, segmented and ridged, with tips that curled up and shimmered faintly red against the black.

Even more striking were her eyes—gorgeous, but inhuman. 

They were vertical pupils in a blend of gold and crimson!

From beneath the hem of her dress extended not only a pair of long, shapely white legs but also a slender tail covered in shimmering black scales. 

The tail was even longer than her legs, its polished scales catching the light with a subtle gleam—clearly not ordinary.

Enya stared at the ceiling, stunned and silent, as if still trapped in the nightmare.

Only after a long while did she finally sit up in bed.

She lifted the blanket—and there, nestled quietly inside, was something milky-white with a soft golden sheen, larger than a human baby.

A dragon egg.

Enya stared at the egg for several seconds, dazed again. 

Then she came to her senses, picked it up, and tucked it inside her gray linen dress, pressing it gently against the warmth of her belly.

An unhatched egg couldn’t be left cold for too long.

Her slightly vacant crimson-gold eyes swept across the tiny rental room. 

It was cramped, bare, and reeked faintly of mildew.

Nothing about this place resembled the home of a legendary “Commonblood Sword Saint” or the hero who had slain a dragon.

Staring at it all, Enya couldn’t help but let out a long sigh.

But this… was her life now.

And the culprit responsible for it all—was that blonde woman!

Even though it had been more than a year, Enya still had nightmares about her. 

In those dreams, the woman took advantage of her weakened state, knocked her down with two punches, and—ignoring Enya’s will—stole her first kiss.

And then, with violent force, shoved a dragon’s bloodline into her body.

Enya was a Commonblood—her blood had no special properties, no resistance. 

This made the fusion of bloodlines completely unimpeded. 

And because of that, she became the half-human, half-dragon being she was now.

If Enya hadn’t sealed the dragon bloodline in time, she wouldn’t just have grown horns and a tail—she would have fully transformed into the dragon she had slain.

Even her personality would have begun to shift—toward the haughty, godlike disdain of a dragon.

The first half of Enya’s life could be summed up with three words: “Protagonist Halo.” 

From start to finish, she had ridden a wave of cheats and fortune. 

She never imagined that slaying a dragon would send her plummeting from the peak into the abyss.

That damned woman had only punched Enya twice:

One punch shattered her Sword Saint cultivation.

The other shattered her pride.

Then she took advantage of Enya’s weakness, bullied her, and didn’t even bother to leave a name behind.

Enya had no idea what she truly looked like—she only remembered the long, golden hair.

And after that day, the woman never appeared again.

From that incident, a new life began to grow inside Enya.

There were moments when Enya wanted to punch herself in the stomach—or even stab herself clean through with a sword—to stop that life from forming. 

But no matter how much she tried to steel her heart, she could never go through with it. 

It was as if her very soul had been bound.

Unable to face anyone, Enya fled into the deep mountains.

She lived alone in caves, exposed to the elements, dazed and aimless. 

She endured the agony of transformation, and in the end… what emerged was a freaking egg!

That day, Enya cried. 

She cried her heart out.

It was only the second time she had cried since coming to this world. 

She had lived two lives—and never had she felt so humiliated as she did in the past year.

Damn you, Blondie!