Betty's expression softened, her mock anger melting away. "It's not that I don't want to."
She sighed, her voice barely above a whisper. "I just need a breather, you know?"
Paul's care over the years—his doting, his sacrifices—had etched themselves into her heart.
If he loved children so much, she'd give him a few more. For him.
"You're incredible," Paul said, his voice thick with emotion. "Marrying you? Best stroke of luck in my life."
Betty rolled her eyes, but her lips curved into a sweet smile. "Always with the sweet talk."
Her heart fluttered, her gaze brimming with warmth as she leaned into his embrace.
Ten months later, Betty's belly swelled with their sixth child.
The day of delivery arrived, tension thick in the air as Paul paced outside the birthing room.
A piercing infant cry cut through the silence, and Paul's heart leapt.
His sixth child was born.
[Detection of host's sixth child born. This heir has low magical aptitude, medium Battle Aura aptitude, evaluated as Average grade. You are awarded ten years of Battle Aura cultivation and a 5-Star Combat Technique—Gale Blade Technique.]
"An Average-grade heir?" Paul's eyes widened, a surge of exhilaration coursing through him.
Compared to Common heirs, an Average-grade heir was a massive leap forward.
The system's rewards proved it—ten years of Battle Aura cultivation, a tenfold jump from before.
And a 5-Star Combat Technique to boot.
In this world, Cultivation Methods and Combat Techniques were ranked from zero to nine stars.
Higher stars meant more potent Battle Aura, sometimes unlocking mystical abilities.
Combat Techniques were no different—a single high-star technique could turn a warrior into a force of nature.
A warrior with a 1-Star Combat Technique could dominate foes without one, all else equal.
High-level techniques were the bedrock of power, the foundation of a family or kingdom's might.
Rulers guarded such knowledge jealously, restricting access to maintain their dominance.
As a baron family, the House Brown Family's best Combat Technique was a mere 3-Star.
A 5-Star Gale Blade Technique? It was a treasure fit for a viscount or even an earl's legacy.
Paul's heart raced. "This is my ticket to the top."
He accepted the rewards without hesitation, his mind buzzing with anticipation.
Instantly, knowledge of the Gale Blade Technique flooded his mind, every stance and flourish embedding itself as if he'd trained for years.
His muscles twitched, instinctively tracing the arcs of the technique's deadly strikes.
Simultaneously, his Battle Aura core roared to life, swelling with raw power.
Its purity sharpened, each pulse stronger than the last.
Tier 4.
Tier 5.
Tier 6.
When the ten years of cultivation settled, Paul stood at the peak of Mid-Tier Warrior, a single step from High-Tier.
He could feel the difference—the Battle Aura coursing through him was denser, sharper, a blade honed to perfection.
"Mid-Tier Warriors outclass Low-Tier by miles," he murmured, his eyes glinting with excitement. "Their Battle Aura can strike beyond the body, extending reach and devastation."
Eager to test his newfound power, Paul strode to the manor's training yard, the night air cool against his skin.
He raised his right hand, index and middle fingers extended, and summoned his Battle Aura.
A searing yellow beam erupted from his fingertips, slicing through the air with a low hum.
It struck the stone wall of the training yard, punching a ten-centimeter-deep hole with a crack that echoed in the stillness.
The destructive force rivaled armor-piercing rounds from his previous life.
Paul's lips curved into a satisfied smirk. "Mid-Tier Warriors are on another level."
His strength had surged over tenfold in moments, bolstered by three tier advancements and the Gale Blade Technique.
He could picture it—drawing his blade, wind howling around him as he unleashed the technique, cleaving through enemies with a single stroke.
The old Paul, from just minutes ago, wouldn't stand a chance.
"My Cheat System is absolutely awesome," he declared, his voice brimming with confidence.
Power thrummed through his veins, a wildfire begging to be unleashed.
He couldn't help but grin, already dreaming of a hundred more children to propel him to godhood.