You're not a eunuch, and you're definitely not asexual.
Unlike other webnovel MCs who'd hesitate, stammer, or outright refuse in a situation like this, you don't.
When a beautiful woman throws herself at you, desperate, needy, dripping with desire, you don't sit around overthinking it. You fuck. Simple. You're a man of culture, after all, a man of will, a man of fucking action.
Grinning, you step forward, accepting your sister's invitation without a shred of hesitation. She leads you into her private chamber, the scent of her arousal thick in the air, her body already trembling in anticipation.
She's ready for you. So fucking ready.
Sprawled out on the bed, her legs spread wide, her fingers pulling apart her slick, twitching pussy, she moans softly as she watches your eyes devour the sight before you.
Her wetness glistens under the dim torchlight, a silent but desperate plea for you to take her, breed her, make her yours.
"So, what are you waiting for, brother?" she teases, voice laced with desire.
You don't waste another second.
Your trousers hit the floor, your cock already hard, throbbing, eager to plunge deep into her waiting cunt.
Stroking yourself, you tease her entrance, rubbing your tip against her soaking folds, making sure you enter the right hole—not her ass, unless she asks for it later.
Then...
You thrust.
"Ah...! So good, brother! So good!"
Her scream echoes in the chamber, her nails digging into your back, her legs wrapping around you, refusing to let go as you slam into her raw, unfiltered, without mercy.
Her hymen tears under your force, a thin trickle of blood staining the sheets—but she doesn't care. You don't stop. She doesn't want you to.
No foreplay. No drawn-out preparation. Just pure, ruthless fucking.
You drive into her again and again, hips crashing against hers with a brutal, relentless pace. Neither of you hold back—you're warriors, not fragile lovers. This isn't soft, gentle love-making.
This is fucking.
Her tight cunt squeezes your cock, milking you for everything you have, her juices dripping down your shaft, soaking your balls as you pound into her, over and over.
"So deep! I love it—I love your cock, brother!"
Her walls keep clamping down around you, her moans turning into desperate cries of pleasure.
"Ah...! I'm cumming, brother—cumming!"
"So am I, sister," you groan, the pressure inside you reaching its breaking point.
"Inside me!" she demands, legs locking around you, trapping you inside as she forces you to breed her.
Oh, boy.
You deliver.
With one final thrust, you slammed into her womb, balls-deep, and erupted inside her, ropes of thick, hot cum flooding her pussy, filling her completely.
Uathach's body convulsed, her mind consumed by the overwhelming pleasure.
Her eyes rolled back, her tongue lolling out slightly as she trembled beneath you, lost in the euphoria of being bred.
Her breathing was ragged, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she stared at you with hazy, fucked-out eyes.
But she wasn't done.
She climbed on top of you, her cum-dripping pussy sliding down onto your cock once more. She rode you wildly, hips slamming down, taking you over and over again.
The two of you fucked until exhaustion took over.
Well, she gives out first.
You break her.
You hit all of her weak points, wrecking her G-spot, fucking her into absolute submission, making her squirt and scream in endless, mind-breaking pleasure.
She was powerful, but in terms of strength, stamina, and sheer endurance, you dominated her completely.
Time becomes meaningless. Hours pass, yet neither of you feel fatigue—not until her body finally gives out. Her strength fails her. Her mind succumbs to the pleasure.
By the time you're done, she's nothing more than a twitching, exhausted mess, her legs shaking, her body drenched in sweat and cum.
You finally rise, you dress yourself, casting one last look at her—a conquered woman, thoroughly satisfied.
You lean down, press a kiss to her forehead, and pull the blanket over her naked, spent body before heading out, leaving her with nothing but the lingering warmth of your seed inside her.
When you closed the door of your chamber behind you and stepped into the grand hall of your kingdom, you saw her—your mother—standing there, waiting. She didn't move, didn't speak at first, merely watching you with those piercing eyes, as if she had been waiting for you all this time.
"Ashborn..." She finally addressed you, her voice calm but firm.
"You have changed the future drastically," she continued, her gaze unwavering. "And Alaya is not someone who forgives. She will hunt you, mark my words. But you can rise above her—above all of us. For that, you must conquer the shadows, absorb their power, make them yours. Go to Rome. Kill Pope Leo the Great and make him your shadow. He will be an invaluable asset to you."
She gave you a clear choice.
"You can refuse and seek another," she admitted. "But he is the best and easiest one available."
You met her gaze, reading into the layers of her words, the implications of what was to come.
"You know about my affair with my sister," you stated, voice steady, testing her reaction.
Your mother's expression barely changed, though there was a flicker of something unreadable in her eyes.
In the myths, your sister was never supposed to be yours. She was meant to have another—a jealous fool who despised Cu Chulainn for being too close to her. But the Hound of Ulster, never one for patience, cut the man down like the pathetic worm he was, leaving your sister's heart torn between admiration and resentment.
That was how history was supposed to play out.
But now?
Now you had rewritten fate itself.
You had taken her first, claimed her before another man could ever touch her. Her body, her womb—everything belonged to you now. There was no other lover, no foolish suitor pining for her, no Cu Chulainn lingering too close.
And that alone had earned you the Counter Force's wrath.
"I do," your mother said at last, her voice heavy with unspoken disapproval. "But you have made her weak at the same time."
She held your gaze for a moment longer, then turned away gracefully, her posture composed, regal, untouchable.
Even in her coldness, she was breathtaking.
You stood there, watching her walk away, her gown flowing behind her, the subtle sway of her hips catching your attention. Your eyes drifted downward, admiring the curve of her ass, the way it moved with each step—a temptation in itself.
Something inside you stirred.
Something dark.
Something inevitable.
You were supposed to leave now.
You should have turned around, gone to Rome, followed the path set before you.
But you didn't.
You turned back.
Returning to your sister once more.
She was already awake, sitting up in bed, her hair messy, her body bare, her eyes widening in surprise as she saw you standing at the doorway.
You wasted no time on words.
You closed the distance between you and claimed her lips, kissing her deeply, forcefully, possessively—letting her know that you were far from done.
When you pulled away from her lips, your sister gazed up at you, her expression filled with both confusion and raw desire. Her breath was heavy, her lips swollen from the kiss, and yet, behind that drunken lust, there was hesitation.
"W-Why so suddenly, brother?" she murmured, her voice laced with need, though doubt still lingered in her tone.
"Why? You don't like it?" you teased, a smirk tugging at your lips.
"No, I loved it... but I don't know," she admitted, biting her lip. "You suddenly feel... different. More passionate. More—intense."
Your eyes, dark as the abyss, burned with something deeper than simple lust.
Your shadow coiled around you, feeding her senses false signals, making her believe you truly wanted her, that your hunger was for her alone. But deep inside, you knew the truth.
You weren't looking at her.
You were looking at someone else.
Someone you shouldn't be seeing in her place.
"I do," you whispered, your voice dropping into a low, commanding growl. "That's why I'm coming at you again. But this time, I want you to use your mouth, sister."
She shivered at the authority in your tone, her hesitation melting into eagerness to please.
Without question, she sank to her knees before you, her delicate fingers wrapping around your cock.
She placed a soft, lingering kiss on the tip, her warm breath ghosting over your length as she looked up at you with sinful seduction.
"Like this, brother?" she purred.
"Yes... just like that," you groaned, deep, primal satisfaction dripping from your voice, vibrating through your entire body and soul.
But in your mind...
It wasn't Uathach before you.
No—it was your mother.
Scathach.
You imagined those piercing, distant eyes softening into pure submission. The ever-powerful, untouchable warrior queen brought to her knees before you, her lips wrapped around your cock in total worship, her body ready and willing to spread for you at a moment's notice.
Something inside you snapped.
Your hands moved on instinct, fingers tangling into Uathach's hair before she could react.
And then—you shoved her down, forcing her mouth around your cock, making her gag as you rammed yourself deep into her throat without warning.
A wet, obscene choke escaped her as you fucked her face mercilessly, her lips stretched wide around your shaft, saliva dripping down her chin.
Yes…
This was what you dreamed of.
Not Uathach.
Scathach.
You imagined those crimson eyes brimming with surrender, her once-cold demeanor utterly broken beneath you.
You could see it so clearly—Your mother kneeling before you, taking everything you gave her, her body yours to use, yours to ruin.
Your thrusts grew wild, brutal, driven by the twisted fantasy consuming your mind.
Uathach's muffled moans and the wet, lewd sounds of her throat being wrecked only fed your madness.
And before you even realized it—before your sanity could pull you back—you had already spent the entire night breaking her all over again.