100x Rebate Sharing System: Retired Incubus Wants to Marry & Have Kids-Chapter 339 - 338- Arrival of Saint

Helena moved with a slower grace than Mira. More careful. As if aware of the precious cargo she carried.

Viktor helped her down, his hand lingering on her lower back for just a moment longer than necessary.

The third woman appeared.

’Kaida.’

She was ’different’ from the first two.

Younger. Mid-twenties at most. Short red hair framed a face that was sharp and beautiful in a dangerous way.

Crimson eyes swept over the crowd with the assessing gaze of a warrior.

Her body was athletic. Lean muscle covered her frame, visible where her clothing—tight pants, a fitted shirt—clung to her.

But she still had curves.

Her breasts were smaller than the others’—C-cup, maybe—but they were ’perfect’. Pert. High. The kind that didn’t sag.

Her ass was firm, tight, the kind you got from years of training and combat.

Unlike the other two, her belly was flat.

But there was something in the way she moved. A slight carefulness. A hand that occasionally drifted to her stomach.

"Isn’t she the crimson money robber...?"

Kaida’s expression was neutral, almost cold. But when Viktor offered his hand, she took it without hesitation.

The fourth woman descended.

’Bella.’

A collective gasp went through the crowd.

Because Bella was ’not’ human.

Cat ears—actual, functional cat ears—poked through her silver hair. They twitched at the noise, swiveling toward different sounds.

Her eyes were golden-amber with vertical pupils that caught the torchlight and reflected it back.

She was petite. Small-framed. Almost delicate-looking.

But her body, while slim, had its own appeal. Small breasts, yes, but they were perfectly proportioned to her frame. A narrow waist. And an ass that was surprisingly thick for her size—round and full, creating an hourglass silhouette despite her overall petiteness.

A tail—silver and fluffy—swished behind her, betraying her nervousness.

"Beast-kin?"

"I’ve never seen one up close before..."

Bella moved quickly, almost skittishly, staying close to Viktor’s side as if seeking protection.

The fifth woman emerged.

’Elara.’

She was... ’striking’.

Pink hair—unusual in the extreme—fell in waves past her shoulders. Pink eyes scanned the crowd with barely concealed anxiety.

Her body was more reserved than the others. Slim, yes, but with gentle curves. Her breasts were modest, her hips narrower.

She wore a practical dress—traveler’s clothing, really—and moved with the careful steps of someone still recovering from something.

But like Kaida, there was a ’hint’. A slight fullness to her lower belly that hadn’t been there before.

"Hey, why there are so many women?"

The crowd’s murmuring grew louder.

And then the final figure appeared.

’Olivia.’

The reaction was instant.

Because Olivia wore white robes.

’Priestess robes.’

The traditional garb of the church, marked with golden symbols of the divine.

She was beautiful in that wholesome, pure way that priestesses were supposed to be. Blonde hair tied back neatly. Golden-amber eyes filled with kindness.

And a body that was... ’distracting’.

Even the modest priestess robes couldn’t hide her curves. Wide hips. Heavy breasts. Thick thighs.

She moved with serene grace, her hands folded in prayer position.

"A priestess?"

"Lord Viktor brought a priestess to Millbrook?" 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝙚𝙬𝓮𝙗𝒏𝙤𝒗𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝒐𝓶

"Is she here to bless the town?"

Olivia smiled at the crowd, her expression radiating warmth and compassion.

The six women—five wives and one priestess—formed a semicircle behind Viktor as he stepped onto the platform.

And the crowd fell silent.

Complete. Absolute silence.

Two hundred people held their breath, waiting.

Viktor stood at the platform’s edge, his dark eyes sweeping over them. He didn’t rush. Didn’t speak immediately.

He just... ’looked’.

At the villagers. At the merchants. At the children. At the elderly.

At ’his’ people.

Then he spoke.

"Four weeks ago," Viktor began, his voice carrying effortlessly across the gathered crowd, "I arrived in this village as a banished nobleman. Cast out by my own family. Sent to a place that most people considered worthless."

Murmurs of acknowledgment.

"But I didn’t see worthless." Viktor’s voice grew stronger. "I saw ’potential’. I saw people who’d been ignored. Neglected. Left to struggle alone."

Heads nodded throughout the crowd.

"And I made a promise to myself." Viktor paused, letting the words hang. "I promised that I would change things. That Millbrook wouldn’t remain forgotten."

"You’ve done it, my lord!" someone shouted from the back.

Cheers erupted.

Viktor raised his hand again, and the noise died down.

"This is just the beginning," he continued. "Look around you. These stalls. These shops. The roads we’ve repaired. The homes we’ve rebuilt. This is what we’ve accomplished ’together’ in four weeks."

Pride swelled in the crowd. People looked at each other, at the buildings, at the proof of their collective effort.

"But we need more," Viktor said. "We need protection. We need order. We need a force that can defend Millbrook from threats—both from the Tower and from those who might seek to take advantage of our prosperity."

The crowd leaned forward, listening intently.

"Therefore," Viktor announced, his voice ringing out, "starting tomorrow, I am opening recruitment for the Millbrook Guard."

Excited whispers.

"The position will require dedication. Training. Discipline." Viktor’s eyes scanned the crowd, meeting the gazes of several young men who’d straightened at his words. "But in return, every soldier who joins will receive a salary of ’one gold coin per month’."

Silence.

Then—

"WHAT?!"

"One gold coin?!"

"Per ’month’?!"

The crowd exploded into chaos.

One gold coin per month was ’insane’. Most laborers made fifteen to twenty silver coins a week if they were lucky. A gold coin was worth one hundred silver.

That meant soldiers would be earning more than skilled craftsmen. More than successful merchants in small towns.

It was ’unheard of’.

"Furthermore," Viktor continued, his voice cutting through the noise, "if a soldier dies in service to Millbrook, their family will receive a lifetime pension of one silver coin per month."

The crowd went from chaos to stunned silence.

"One... silver... per month..." someone whispered.

"For the rest of their lives?"

"That’s... that’s..."

It was unprecedented.

Most noble families didn’t provide ’anything’ for dead soldiers. You fought, you died, your family starved. That was the norm.

But Viktor was promising ’security’. Real, tangible support for those who risked their lives.

"My lord..." An older man near the front, tears streaming down his weathered face, dropped to his knees. "You... you would do that? For us?"

Viktor looked down at him. "You are my people. Your lives have value. And I will ensure that value is ’recognized’."

The man sobbed openly.

And slowly, like a wave, others began dropping to their knees.

Not out of fear.

Out of ’gratitude’.

Viktor let them have their moment. Then he raised his hand once more.

"Additionally," he continued, and people struggled back to their feet to hear, "I am implementing new agricultural policies. We will be expanding farmland using advanced techniques. Providing seeds and tools at subsidized costs. Establishing communal storage for harvests to prevent waste."

More murmurs of approval.

"We will also be creating a healthcare system. Olivia—" He gestured to the priestess behind him. "—will be training local healers. Teaching herbal medicine. Ensuring that no one in Millbrook dies from preventable illness."

Olivia stepped forward slightly, nodding to the crowd with that serene smile.

"And finally," Viktor said, his voice dropping slightly, becoming more intimate, "we will be establishing a school. A place where children can learn to read. To write. To calculate. Knowledge will no longer be a privilege of the wealthy."

The crowd was beyond words now.

They just... ’stared’.

At this man.

This nobleman who’d been banished.

This lord who actually ’cared’.

Viktor took a deep breath.

"But there’s one more thing," he said softly.

He turned his gaze toward the section of the crowd where the most desperate stood.

The malnourished.

The sick.

The ones whose bodies were bent from years of hard labor and poor nutrition. Whose skin hung loose over protruding bones. Whose eyes were sunken and dull.

"Come forward," Viktor called to them. "All of you who are suffering. Who are weak. Who are in pain. Come forward."

Hesitation.

Then, slowly, they began to move.

An elderly woman, hunched over a walking stick.

A young man whose left arm hung useless at his side from an old injury.

A mother carrying a child whose ribs showed through his skin.

A teenage girl with a horrible scar across her face from a farming accident.

More. And more. And more.

Dozens of them.

They gathered at the base of the platform, looking up at Viktor with desperate hope.

"You have suffered," Viktor said, his voice carrying genuine compassion. "Not because you are weak. Not because you deserve it. But because the world is cruel. Because resources are scarce. Because no one has helped you."

Tears flowed freely now.

"But that ends tonight," Viktor said.

He stepped down from the platform.

Stood directly among them.

And raised his right hand toward the sky.

"To welcome the world with an open heart," Viktor declared, his voice rising, "I bestow upon you the blessings of Millbrook. I grant you ’my’ blessing. As your lord. As your protector. As someone who ’sees’ you."

His hand began to glow.

Faintly at first. Just a soft golden shimmer around his fingers.

Then brighter.

And brighter.

And ’brighter’.

Until his entire hand was engulfed in golden light so intense it hurt to look at directly.

"What... what is..."

The light spread.

Up his arm. Across his shoulders. Over his entire body.

Viktor became a figure of pure radiance, standing among the desperate crowd like a beacon.

And then—

’WHOOOM’

The light ’exploded’ outward and upward.

Two massive shapes materialized in the sky above Millbrook.

Wings.

Angel wings.

Enormous. Spanning at least fifty feet from tip to tip. Made entirely of golden light that pulsed and shimmered.

They hung in the air above Viktor, framing him like he was some divine being descended from the heavens.

The crowd collectively ’gasped’.

"Blessed gods..."

"What is that?!"

"Is Lord Viktor a saint?!"