The Divine Physician’s Overbearing Wife - Chapter 30: For the Sake of Sleeping with the State Preceptor I

‘I’m sure I was……dead.’

Annette Bavaria, a woman from the most prestigious noble family in the Deltium kingdom , returned back to the day of her wedding.

The groom’s face was fierce as they entered the hall for the ceremony. He clutched her arm tightly because he hated Annette terribly.

Now they were going to have a hellish marriage again, hurting each other.

***

“Don’t do this, Rafael.”

“Shh, Annette. If you really want me to stop, please don’t open your dirty mouth. I’m going crazy right now because I want to squeeze it right in.”

She looked at her husband tearing her clothes with tearful eyes.

He was still horribly mean, arrogant, and a beast who only coveted her body.

If she didn’t want to die again, she had to tame this wicked beast somehow.

There was no other option.

A person died in our world. And when he opened his eyes again… the stars had changed.Reborn into the age of myth, long before his time and when Olympus stood tall, he awakens in the Garden of the Hesperides. Reincarnated as the God of Power he is now watched over by mysterious nymphs under Hera's silent command. Unaware of the divine politics at play or the godhood now within him, he must navigate a world of titans, monsters, and primordial chaos.But he’s not entirely alone. A mysterious System, has merged with his soul, offering quests, powers, and choices that creates and enhances powers and help him shape his path toward ascension. As the gods begin to stir and ancient forces clash for control, the new deity must find his place in a pantheon not yet formed and carve a name into legend with power, cunning, and the will to rise.Because in this world, divinity is earned.And only those who ascend... survive.Author's Note:This story draws inspiration from Greek mythology, but takes creative liberties for the sake of narrative and worldbuilding. While many elements remain faithful to the ancient myths, others will be reimagined or altered entirely. Please enjoy this interpretation as a myth of its own.

A false Sword Saint: Faintly discernible Martial Art and a matchless Sword Art. Killing one man with every ten steps, no traces left behind in ten miles.

A genuine Sword Saint: A deep and resounding bloodline, peerless strength, an inexhaustible power and one chop to destroy the world.

This is the story of a Swords Saint taking the path of a tank who cuts everything down on his path.

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For the wine to be drunk on her wedding night to actually have been a cup of poison and for the one to poison her to be her husband, who would believe it?