A man walked through a forest.
No— not a man, for his humanity had long since been extinguished.
He was divine.
His name was Aaron, once the helper of the hero, now wandering aimlessly after being humiliated and abandoned by his former companions.
Glory to God
Ethereal whispers echoed through the branches of the trees, carrying collectively: Admiration, devotion, and fanaticism.
It was the forest's unanimous cry, the ecstasy of having its God walk along its trails and valleys.
Wherever Aaron passed, the vegetation quivered, singing poems and songs of love to their God, in an attempt to please their lord.
Soon, Aaron arrived at the heart of the forest — a clearing bathed in the serene light of the Moon. The trees around formed a perfect circle.
There was a variety among them: Oak, Poplar, Elm, and Beech. All were slightly bent toward Aaron, as if bowing before their King.
With a wave of his hand, a throne of black stone rose from the earth. Its darkness absorbed the moonlight, making the air heavy and somber.
Come, I am here
My King
My God
A seductive whisper came from the throne. A call — of a lover to her King, of a servant to her God.
The voices fell silent when Aaron finally leaned back comfortably upon the throne. His expression, unchanged until then, at last showed a shift.
A smile appeared upon his handsome face.
At that moment, the whole forest went quiet. There were no whispers from the trees, no rustling leaves. It was as though the entire forest was hypnotized by his smile.
A woman emerged from the shadows, walking among the tall trees. Her milky white skin, along with her silver hair, reflected the starlight, dispelling the shadows of the grove with her radiant presence.
As she stepped toward Aaron on the throne, her dress of leaves rustled softly, the sound breaking the silence of the night.
She stopped before Aaron, bowed lightly, and said with joy:
"Finally, you've arrived… I've waited so long for you!"
Aaron narrowed his eyes, staring curiously at this newcomer.
"And who are you?"
The woman did not seem displeased by his question. Instead, she apologized as she replied:
"Forgive me, my lord. I am Hermina, daughter of the stars. You, together with the hero, saved me and my sisters."
Hermina lifted her head, her eyes shining with starlight as she gazed at Aaron.
"My foolish sisters could not see your greatness, choosing instead to follow the hero. But I saw how divine you are— and so I beg you…"
Suddenly, she prostrated herself, striking her forehead against the ground again and again until her blood stained the green grass, all the while pleading:
"Allow me to follow you. I am willing to serve you in every way possible."
Aaron did not stop Hermina, letting her bleed until a small pool had formed beneath her, before finally speaking:
"That's enough. I don't need servants. Now leave."
Hermina froze for a moment, then began to tremble. She looked desperate, as though the very reason for her existence had just been torn away.
"My lord… I'll do anything… Do not deny me this. I'll be your servant, your slave, anything at all— I only wish to remain by your side."
Seeing her resume smashing her forehead to the ground, Aaron grew irritated. He had been trying his best to avoid involvement with the hero's women, and now one of them had come to his domain, begging to submit.
As he observed the woman, memories of his past surfaced, fragments of the path that had led him here.
He had originally come from a planet called Earth, and had been transported into this novel by the God of this world. His task was to fix bugs in the story; once done, he would be granted a wish by that God.
With that in mind, he had joined the protagonist's party — the so-called hero of this world. For years he wandered in the shadows, correcting story flaws and helping the protagonist grow stronger and win over women, just as in the original novel.
He never expected the protagonist to kick him out near the very end of the plot — when the hero's party was supposed to defeat the Demon King.
But that didn't matter now. After all, all the hero had to do was slay the Demon King. When the novel ended, Aaron could make his wish to God.
That said, he had to intervene here. Hermina might die of blood loss, and it would not do to have a heroine perish in his domain. Such a thing could disrupt the plot — and by extension, implicate him.
Not that he cared much. But it would be disappointing to see all his work fixing the story wasted because of a single woman's death.
A plan quickly took shape in his mind. He would make Hermina lose interest in him, then wait comfortably for the novel's end.
A perfect plan.
Aaron smiled at the thought, strangely amused. Perhaps these last days would not be as dull as he imagined.
"Well then… I do happen to need a new rug. Would you offer yourself for that?"
To Aaron's surprise, Hermina reacted with joy, jumping up in excitement.
Realizing what she had done, her face flushed with embarrassment for displaying such childish behavior before her new master.
Bowing repeatedly, she said with delight:
"It would be an honor to be stepped upon by you."
Aaron was speechless for a moment, but upon seeing the gleam in her eyes and her expression of rapture, he could only remain silent.
In the blink of an eye, he appeared before her, slowly lifting his foot. His white robe slid down his leg, revealing more of the pale skin beneath.
Then, he pressed his beautiful foot against Hermina's face. Time itself seemed to freeze — the entire forest silent.
Hermina was utterly paralyzed, her face burning with an unnatural blush. Her ragged breathing formed clouds in the cold night air, and her pounding heartbeat echoed like a drum in the forest's stillness.
"What is it? Too much for you?"
Aaron teased lightly, brushing Hermina's lips with his toe. Her tongue slipped out timidly, meeting his foot. She licked aimlessly, trying to cover his foot completely.
Aaron had not asked for this; he only wanted to see if Hermina would truly let him step on her. Having his foot licked was an unexpected development. Yet he did not stop her — the wet sensation was pleasant, and watching Hermina's expression of bliss was a mere bonus.
"That's enough."
Hermina truly loved touching him. She felt that if she continued licking, she wouldn't last long before reaching her climax. But since Aaron commanded it, she pulled back reluctantly.
Aaron returned to his throne. Soon after, the space before him distorted, forming the image of a group moving through a dark forest.
"Come, watch with me."
Hermina brightened at the order, rising and hovering lightly at Aaron's side.
"This is the hero's party, isn't it?" she asked curiously. The image showed the hero's group heading toward the demon realm, after defeating its twelve generals.
"That's right."
"Then why are we watching them?" Her confusion was understandable. To her, they were just another group, hardly worth a second glance.
Aaron gave no answer, and Hermina did not press further. Her eyes turned toward two white-haired girls among the party's women. They were her sisters — though in her mind, merely two blind fools.
Before long, the hero's party crossed the forest, fending off the few but powerful foes along their path. Soon, they reached the demon realm's border, where the sky stretched red and sunless, cold and dark, for no light dared touch its cursed lands.
When Hermina looked back at Aaron, she was stunned. At some point, he had changed clothes. He now wore black pajamas that contrasted with his pale skin. In his hands was a bucket of popcorn, which he casually ate while watching.
He noticed Hermina's gaze and asked, still focused on the hero's group:
"What is it? Can't I enjoy my favorite show in something comfortable?"
In that outfit, Hermina could better admire Aaron's body — the way the fabric hugged his curves, the lines of his muscles… Ah, it was a sin to see him in such tight clothes and be unable to touch him.
One thing was certain: he was perfect, both in masculine and feminine form.
"O-of course you can."
Hermina turned her eyes away, blushing deeply, forgetting her earlier frustration at not reaching climax. Just this sight alone, she thought, would be enough material to pleasure herself for a lifetime.
'Perhaps I should paint this moment to immortalize it…'
The thought was quickly dismissed. As Aaron's slave, she would surely have better chances later — perhaps even paint him nude.
While Hermina daydreamed about a future where she might behold his naked form, Aaron remained focused on the image of the hero's group, ignoring the perverted look and drool at the corner of her lips.
The next instant, time froze, and the world turned black and white. Aaron remained unaffected. He turned to face a radiant sphere of light that appeared at his side.
"My dear Aaron," came an ancient and androgynous voice from the light. "How have you been?"
"Cut the nonsense. Tell me what you want." Aaron replied curtly.
"That's why I like you. Straight to the point, no wasted words." The voice pressed on. "Well then, I have a new task for you."
"And what would that be?"
"Simple. You just have to destroy the world." The voice spoke calmly, as though not having just decided the fate of thousands of lives.
"You know how much work it was to save this world?" Aaron asked, studying the light anew. "Why this, all of a sudden?"
The light answered without delay:
"Well, I realized this world was a mistake. I thought humans liked netori-type stories, but the readers hate the protagonist. I think it's because of you."
"Me?" Aaron asked, surprised. He truly didn't remember doing anything remarkable. He had only acted as an extra in the hero's party while fixing plot bugs.
"Your character in the novel — Kyle — the readers sympathized with him. He was the most charismatic, kind, and honorable one. Somehow, the audience loved him. So when the hero stole your wife and kicked you out, it caused an uproar. Readers began dropping my novel en masse."
The voice grew thoughtful:
"To save it, I thought about changing the genre from netori to NTR. Why not switch the final villain? Instead of a Demon King, what about Kyle — the Evil God?"
"And what do I gain from this?" Just hearing the proposal made Aaron excited, though he didn't agree immediately.
"Let's say, when the novel ends, you won't get just one wish… but two."
"Three wishes," Aaron countered, pausing. "That is, if you want the greatest villain this world has ever seen."
A heavy silence lingered for what felt like eternity before it finally broke.
"Very well. I want a perfect villain. You don't necessarily need to steal the hero's heroines, but it would be interesting to see a netori hero suffer an NTR — especially since the audience craves it."
Aaron nodded. He himself wanted to see what kind of face the hero would make when the women he stole abandoned him for another.
"Hermina is a gift, the first woman you 'stole' from the hero. As for her narrative use, you'll have to figure that out on your own."
With those words, the sphere of light vanished, and time resumed.
"Well then. Now I'm the final villain. Just thinking about the work exhausts me… but at least it'll be more fun than being some background bug-fixer."