Loser to Legend: Gathering Wives with My Unlimited Money System

The sun blazed overhead as the car shot down the empty highway like a black bullet. Wind roared past, brushing the golden plains and kicking up thin trails of dust behind the tires. Out here, beyond the city's noise and steel, it was all space—wide, dry, and endless.

Xavier's foot was firm on the pedal. The road stretched out for hours, and thanks to the flatlands, he barely had to slow down. No traffic. Just a few scattered gas stations and rest stops tucked along the way like forgotten relics.

Lyra shifted in the back seat and let out a groan. "Okay, I'm starving. If I don't eat soon, I'll chew my arm off."

Lilia raised a brow. "I wouldn't recommend that. You'd probably taste awful."

Reva, sitting up front, let out a long sigh. Her skin looked pale—paler than usual—and her voice came out dry. "Can we stop? This sun's boiling my blood."

Xavier didn't take his eyes off the road. "There's a gas station up ahead. Five minutes."

True to his word, a small, rusted gas station came into view. The place was a relic—probably older than Astraeus City itself. A flickering neon sign buzzed weakly, and a few vending machines stood crooked under a dusty tin roof.

Xavier pulled in and killed the engine. "Grab what you need. Ten minutes tops."

He stepped out, walked to the pump, and filled the tank to full. The gas here wasn't refined or enhanced, but it worked. Good enough for this trip.

The girls disappeared into the shop.

Reva leaned against the open door, shielding her eyes with her hand. "Why is it so sunny and hot today? I'd take night over this any day."

"Come on, it's not that bad," Xavier muttered.

She gave a sideways glance. "You should try being a vampire. Then we'll see how much you like the heat."

Meanwhile, Lyra and Lilia came out, arms loaded with snacks—chips, chocolate, two energy drinks, and a big bottle of cold water.

"Okay," Lyra said with a full mouth, "serious question now. Where exactly are we going?"

"Yeah," Lilia added, sipping from her can. "You've been driving like you're on a mission."

Xavier twisted the cap back on the fuel tank. "We're going home."

Lilia blinked. "Home?"

He didn't say more. Just got back in the car.

The rest of the ride passed in pieces. Long stretches of silence broken by music from the old station, Lyra's humming, and the crunch of snacks. Outside, the scenery slowly changed. Green started appearing. Then trees. Then shadows from distant hills.

By the time they reached the edge of the mountainous region, the sky had gone dark.

Night settled in like a blanket, and cold came fast.

Xavier slowed the car as they reached the rough gravel paths leading to the village. Sharp slopes. Steep curves. Rocks the size of chairs. This was no place for a sleek, city-bred sportscar.

He cursed under his breath.

"Could've bought an off-road model… but nooo. Had to get the sexy one."

Reva leaned forward. "This thing's gonna snap its own suspension if you push it any further."

"Are we walking from here?" Lyra asked, already pulling a jacket on.

But before Xavier could respond, the dashboard lit up with a flashing symbol. The AI's voice came on, calm and crisp.

"Alternate terrain mode detected. Emergency hover module available for short-range traversal. Warning: this feature consumes high amounts of fuel and requires full maintenance after use. Activate?"

Xavier raised a brow. "Didn't even know you could do that."

"City models rarely need it. This is classified as a last-resort feature."

"Sounds perfect," he muttered. "Do it."

The car's body gave a small tremble.

Hydraulics hissed. Panels shifted. Tires retracted into the undercarriage with a satisfying click, and faint blue lights lit up under the chassis.

Then, it lifted.

Not too high—just enough to float above the rocks and uneven ground, gliding like a smooth, quiet beast through the cold mountain winds.

The girls leaned toward the windows, eyes wide.

"This is awesome," Lyra whispered.

"This is less stable compared to the actual hover cars," Lilia added, gripping the seat.

The final path wound between the hills, past frozen streams and crooked wooden bridges. And then, finally, the valley opened.

The car hovered down into the village square—a wide open ground surrounded by stone houses, chimneys puffing faint smoke, and lanterns casting soft yellow light in the dark.

They had arrived.

The car landed with a gentle thud, its engine whining softly before going silent.

Xavier opened the door and stepped out.

The air here was cold—biting cold. Not like Astraeus. This was the kind that went straight to your lungs and made you feel alive. Or like you were being stabbed by air knives.

Xavier looked around, his breath fogging up in the cold.

The place hadn't changed.

The moment Xavier stepped out of the car, something snapped inside him. He didn't wait for the girls. Didn't say a word.

He just ran.

The cold slapped his face, but he didn't care. His boots hit the dirt, crunching frost beneath as he sprinted across the narrow path leading to the far side of the village. The air here was sharper, older—he could smell the pine, the smoke, the mountain stones that had seen lifetimes pass.

He reached the old wooden house. The same one he'd grown up in.

He pushed the door open without knocking.

"Father!" he called out.

Nothing.

He stepped inside. It was cold. Empty. The fireplace hadn't been lit in days. Dust floated through the air, lit by the faint moonlight slipping through the cracked windows. No shoes by the door. No jackets on the hook. Just silence.

He backed out and ran to the next house. Then the next.

Empty.

No one.

The girls caught up a few moments later, panting.

"What's going on?" Lilia asked, clutching her coat tighter.

Xavier looked toward the hills.

"They're at the chamber," he said quietly.

Lyra frowned. "The what?"

"The prayer chamber. In the mountain."

He didn't explain further. He just turned and took off again, this time toward the rocky path that coiled up the slope, half-covered in snow. The girls followed without question, Reva floating slightly to save her strength from the climb.

After twenty minutes of silent trekking, the wind howling and boots slipping over stone and ice, they saw it.

A faint glow in the distance.

Golden and steady. Candlelight.

The mountain opened ahead into a natural arch. A wide cave mouth, covered in ancient carvings and symbols of the old world. It wasn't flashy. Wasn't grand. Just… sacred.

Xavier stepped through.

The warmth hit first. Dozens of candles lined the stone walls, flickering softly, painting the cave in orange and amber. The air smelled of herbs, smoke, and melted wax.

Inside, villagers were sitting on the stone floor, their heads bowed. Prayers were being whispered. Echoes bounced gently off the walls. There was a rhythm to it, like the cave itself was breathing along with them.

Xavier stood there, frozen.

Then slowly, he stepped forward and found a spot near the back. The girls followed and sat beside him.

No one asked why they were here.

The prayers continued.

And for the first time in a long while, Xavier said nothing. He simply sat still—his eyes closed, his breaths slow, listening to the chant echoing from the heart of the mountain.

The moment the prayers ended, the soft chants dying into silence, Xavier stood up.

He didn't need to raise his voice.

"Father," he called out.

His voice echoed low, reaching the front of the cave.

The priest—his father—turned slowly, robes trailing behind him as he stepped down from the altar. A quiet pause fell across the room as the villagers finally noticed Xavier standing near the back.

And then… they swarmed him.

One by one, they came forward—men, women, kids, even old folks with shaky legs—hugging him, patting his back, grabbing his hands with warm smiles and teary eyes.

"Xavier! You're back!"

"Look at you! All grown!"

"You haven't changed at all!"

"Is this your wife?"

Lyra and Lilia both blushed. Reva just crossed her arms, standing behind him like some bodyguard with fangs.

Xavier smiled awkwardly, caught in the sea of kindness. These were people he'd grown up around. Faces that hadn't changed. They weren't rich. They weren't powerful. But they were kind. Genuine. And they had hope in their eyes.

Then came the footsteps.

Slow, heavy, and familiar.

His father stepped through the crowd, arms opening wide.

Xavier didn't hesitate.

He rushed forward and hugged the old man.

"I—" he started, but his father placed a firm hand on his back and whispered, "Later."

Then, the priest turned to the crowd, stepped back up onto the altar, and raised both arms.

"Everyone," he said, voice echoing loud and proud, "my prayers have been answered. My son… is here."

The villagers cheered, clapped, some even cried.

"He will help us," his father continued. "He will fix this mess."

Xavier blinked. "Wait… fix what?"

His father looked at him, eyes heavy with something unsaid. He stepped down and placed a hand on Xavier's shoulder.

"Come," he said, guiding him toward the edge of the crowd. "Let me show you."

But before they could take a step, a small voice cut in.

"I'll show him."

A young boy stepped forward. Maybe ten years old, clutching a piece of chalk and a flat stone.

He knelt down and drew something quickly on the stone floor.

A sharp symbol. Black lines. A triangle… no, a spade. With fangs. And chains wrapped around it.

Xavier's stomach sank.

He'd seen it before.

On Piolet's ship.

The Spade Hounds.

He stared at the boy. "Who showed you this?"

The kid pointed toward the door. "The man who came in the ship. He told us to leave the village. Said we had a week or else…"

"Or else?" Lilia asked, frowning.

"He said the forest would burn," the boy whispered.

Xavier looked up. Jaw clenched.

He remembered the Beastland. The massacre. The screams of villagers. The Spade Hounds didn't negotiate.

And now they'd come for his home.