"Come, relax your body."
"E-Elder... is this really okay for me?"
Inside the wooden bedroom, a golden-haired maiden sat primly on the edge of the bed. Her exquisite features were accentuated by delicately pointed ears, currently tilted forward in tension. Her gaze was solemn as she watched the blond elven youth kneeling at the center of the magic circle.
"My dear, right now, you're the only one in our entire clan with such vibrant life force." The elder's voice was gentle yet firm. "Only you can accomplish this task—for the stability of our people. Your parents have given their full approval."
"W-well... alright then..."
Refusing was never truly an option anyway.
The youth wasn't native to this world. He'd arrived here abruptly after an untimely death in his previous life. Initially, he'd been exhilarated, imagining himself living like those protagonists in adventure tales—battling goblins, exploring dungeons, living the heroic dream.
Instead, he'd spent over a decade as an elf.
No adventures.
No goblins.
Just years of isolation and tedious magic practice.
Occasional invasions by despicable humans.
Yet, over time, he'd grown to embrace elven life. The loving family he found here—parents and an elder brother who cherished him—made this world infinitely better than his original one. He'd long abandoned thoughts of leaving.
To the outside world, elves were lowly creatures. Tools to be used.
That truth had been seared into his mind during the last human invasion. When their barriers fell, swarms of humans had descended, capturing elf maidens by the dozens. Their already dwindling population had crashed below three hundred.
That day left him with a crippling fear of the outside world.
Of human might.
He'd resolved to never leave, counting each extra day of peaceful life as a blessing. Elves lived long, and their forest home was tranquil.
Until three days ago—when a high-ranking demon lord materialized, coveting their clan's most sacred treasure.
Fortunately, the treasure had already bonded with their elder. After tense negotiations, a compromise was reached: the demon could claim the treasure, but only by taking an elven bride and siring offspring.
It was a favorable deal.
As a fifth-tier demon, coupling with a nature-attuned elf would produce offspring of at least third-tier potential—matching the strongest human hunters who'd plagued them. The diluted bloodline was acceptable, and demonic vitality might even alleviate their race's declining fertility.
Grudgingly bound by magical contract, the demon agreed.
Then came the problem.
With their last newborn—himself—having arrived over a decade prior, not a single elf in their hundreds-strong clan currently possessed sufficient natural mana for conception. The next eligible female wouldn't mature for five years.
Five years the impatient demon wouldn't wait. Their entire clan might perish.
So the elder, this golden-haired maiden before him, turned her gaze to their sole option.
As their most recent birth, his life force remained potent enough for immediate conception. The only obstacle was... gender.
A problem solved by their ancestral artifact—a one-use orb capable of transforming male elves into females.
When his parents explained this yesterday, he'd nearly exploded.
Become female?
Lie with a man?
Bear children?
After forty cumulative years of male existence across two lifetimes?
Yet after agonizing deliberation, he'd acquiesced. This clan was his home now. He couldn't watch it destroyed.
And at forty, he remained their youngest...
For his home.
For peace.
For his family.
He'd reluctantly become that demon's wife and breeding vessel.
"Beginning now."
The elder rose, grasping her wooden staff.
"W-wait! Elder, I've never been a girl before! If I... if I don't serve him well, will he... hurt me?" Sweat slicked his palms. A fifth-tier being could crush their elder like an insect. What horrors might such a creature inflict on an imperfect counterfeit female?
"Worry not." Her voice softened. "Lord Rian's temperament is surprisingly mild. He won't harm you."
Then the staff flared blinding emerald.
Agony struck like lightning.
Bones splintered and reshaped. Something precious he'd carried for forty years dissolved away as new softness swelled. Three minutes of torment left him gasping on the floor—a petite figure now, his clothes pooling loosely around transformed curves.
Trembling fingers touched a face now rounded and delicate. Tears magnified jewel-green eyes as plush lips parted in shock.
"Adorable, don't you think?" The elder held up a mirror.
The reflection showed a doe-eyed elven maiden—the kind that made one instinctively want to cuddle and pamper. She pinched her cheek.
"Oww—" The mirror girl winced cutely.
Her new skin was impossibly soft. Sitting up, she immediately noticed the... absence between her thighs. Then the twin mounds obstructing her downward view. Blushing fiercely, she gave one an experimental squeeze.
Reality settled over her with strange calm.
"Elder... it's really... gone..." Her voice emerged in a honeyed whisper.
"Of course. How else would you bear his child?" The elder chuckled, wiping tears from the newborn maiden's face. "You're our clan's hope now."
Her tone grew solemn. "When with Lord Rian, no more of your childhood mischief. Be obedient. And..." a meaningful pause, "...take initiative when needed."