Reborn in Milfloria: The Only Man in a World of Seductive Queens-Chapter 45: Bootia Awakes!

The sun of Milforia didn’t rise.

It stretched.

Long golden rays poured lazily through the velvet curtains of the Sacred Chamber, like they were too shy to witness the chaos within. Outside, birds with suspiciously moaning warbles sang their morning chants. Somewhere, a unicorn sneezed glitter.

Inside the room?

Carnage.

Lewd, post-sacred, absolutely inappropriate carnage.

Henry stirred first, groaning as his eyes peeled open like stuck honey lids. His face was half-buried in Seraphina’s chest, which was dangerously close to suffocating him in what many would call a blessed death.

His hand was on someone’s thigh.

Correction: both hands were.

Moistessa lay on one side of him, clutching his arm like a body pillow, drooling slightly. Thrustina was curled around his leg, mumbling something about "thigh chains of destiny."

And Seraphina? She was using his face like a scented pillow. Her moon-silk gown had retreated somewhere during the night probably in protest.

Henry blinked.

"Why do I taste glitter?" he mumbled.

Climaxa, still upside-down on the ceiling, cracked one eye open. "You snored directly into my sparkle cloud."

Henry sat up slowly, the silk sheet slithering off his body like it, too, had given up on modesty.

His hair was wild. His cheeks were glowing.

And his bounce?

Dangerously potent.

"Ugh... I feel like I got reverse-gooned by a celestial sorority," he groaned, stretching as a tiny pop echoed from his lower back.

Moistessa stirred beside him, eyes fluttering open. "Mmm... your shoulder is delicious. Tastes like plot development."

"Why are you tasting my shoulder?!"

"It’s part of the recovery process," she said innocently, immediately nibbling on it again.

Thrustina yawned, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. "Good morning, Daddy Bounce."

Henry buried his face in his hands. "Please. No more titles."

Seraphina rolled onto her back and groaned like a woman who’d just survived a 12-hour anime filler arc. "Too late. You’re Milforia’s Squishcendent. With great cheeks comes great degeneracy."

Henry blinked and looked around. "Wait. Wasn’t there a scroll emergency last night? Peaches? A fan letter?"

Thrustina sat upright with a jolt. "The package!"

She grabbed the crate and opened it dramatically, like a treasure chest in an RPG. Inside were several things:

A bottle of "Ultra Lube: Now with SPF 69."

A plush body pillow with Henry’s face... and abs he definitely didn’t have.

A scroll.

Moistessa grabbed the scroll, cleared her throat, and began to read:

> "Dear Squishcendent,

You are our bounce. Our light. Our Wi-Fi in the storm of no signal. Please accept these sacred offerings from the Goon Brotherhood. We hope they aid you in your quest to remain ridiculously gooned in a world without browsers.

P.S. The peaches aren’t edible. I tried. I have regrets.

With squish,

ThighKnight69"

Henry teared up.

"They still remember me..."

Seraphina peeked into the crate and pulled out what appeared to be a silicone butt.

She raised an eyebrow.

"Is this... for training?"

Thrustina nodded seriously. "It vibrates."

Moistessa flicked a switch. The fake cheeks began to jiggle violently like they were summoning an earthquake.

Henry gasped. "That’s... beautiful."

Climaxa, now fully awake and descending in a slow somersault, hovered over the crate like a divine crow.

"Don’t use the Ultra Lube on mortal skin," she warned. "Last time someone did, they slipped through four dimensions and landed in a hentai universe."

Henry blinked. "That doesn’t sound too bad."

Seraphina narrowed her eyes. "No."

Henry pouted. "But "

"No."

With a dramatic sigh, Henry stood up, chest bare, silk fluttering around his waist like a sassy toga.

He struck a pose before the mirror. "Alright. Let’s start the day."

Thrustina squinted at him. "Start it with what? You don’t have a job."

Henry nodded. "Exactly. That means I’m free to goon responsibly."

"Not today," Seraphina said, suddenly serious. "We have an appointment with the High Priestess of Bootia."

Moistessa gasped. "The one with the hips that bend space?"

"Yes," Seraphina replied. "She’s detected a spike in forbidden bounce energy... from Earth."

Everyone froze.

Henry blinked. "Earth? But they don’t even have sacred oils."

Climaxa floated backward like a concerned jellyfish. "If Earth’s bounce levels rise too high without a Chosen One to contain them... it could cause a rupture."

Henry’s jaw dropped. "A rupture? Like "

"Yes," Seraphina said grimly. "A Bounce Leak."

Thrustina whispered, horrified, "The Great Nutpocalypse of 3033..."

Henry nodded solemnly. "So it’s time. Time for... a field mission."

Seraphina placed her hand on his chest. "We’ll all go. Together."

Moistessa squealed. "ROAD TRIP!"

Climaxa poofed a pair of glittery sunglasses into existence. "I call front seat."

Henry looked around the room still a mess of oil stains, velvet cushions, and cheek-shaped snacks and sighed with soft reverence.

This was his life now.

Not just sacred. Not just sensual.

Sacrilegiously spicy.

As they began to gather their things, Henry turned to the mirror once more. He lifted the silicone training cheeks and cradled them like a baby.

"Thank you, ThighKnight69. You’re the real MVP."

Seraphina rolled her eyes. "Let’s go before you start naming the butt."

Henry paused. "Too late. Her name is Peachany."

Thrustina facepalmed. "Why are we following this man into war?"

Moistessa grinned. "Because his cheeks jiggle like destiny."

They left the Sacred Chamber, Henry leading the way, silk billowing behind him like a cape woven from perversion and hope.

Outside, a golden chariot awaited shaped like two giant thighs.

Of course.

Climaxa floated beside it. "Milforia needs you, Henry."

Seraphina took his hand. "We all do."

Henry climbed aboard, cracked his knuckles, and smirked.

"Let’s ride, girls. Time to save two worlds." 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝙬𝙚𝓫𝒏𝓸𝓿𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝙤𝓶

And as the chariot lifted into the sky, pulled by four enormous glittering bunnies in heat, Henry shouted into the clouds:

"FOR BOOTIA! FOR BOUNCE! FOR THE GOON GODS!"

The wind carried his voice far and wide.

And deep in Earth’s darkest basements, hundreds of gooners paused their screens, sensing something divine.

Something... jiggly.

The prophecy was alive.

And it had a six-pack of Ultra Lube.

The kind that whispered in forbidden tongues when shaken.

The kind that came with a user manual written in moans.

As the chariot soared across Milforia’s skies, its golden thigh-shaped wings spread wide, a sonic boom erupted though in Milforia, sonic booms sounded suspiciously like a spanked peach.

Henry leaned over the edge of the chariot, wind ruffling his already ravaged hair. Behind him, Seraphina polished her sword with what could only be described as sensual intensity. Moistessa was trying to braid the mane of one of the glitter bunnies mid-flight. Thrustina had pulled out a crossbow shaped like a thong and was aiming at passing clouds for practice.

And Climaxa?

She sat in the passenger seat in her glitter glasses, flipping through a celestial magazine titled "Thicc Mystics Monthly."

"Ladies," Henry said dramatically, gripping the handlebar that looked way too much like a thigh gap, "this might be the most important bounce of our lives."

Moistessa popped her head over his shoulder. "Do we have snacks for the mission?"

Thrustina rolled her eyes. "We literally had a post-orgy banquet six minutes ago."

"That was recovery food. This is field food. Gooning requires electrolytes."

Seraphina pulled out a peach-shaped flask. "I brought Squirtade. High Priestess Bootia doesn’t allow entry without a hydration check."

Henry turned with solemn reverence. "She’s a wise woman."

Suddenly, the skies began to ripple—like the fabric of the universe just got humped by an idea. A vortex opened in front of them, pulsing with a suspicious rhythm.

Climaxa tossed her magazine aside. "Incoming interdimensional booty wormhole!"

The chariot spiraled into it, plunging through streams of moaning stardust and bouncing astral particles. Time itself seemed to twerk as they passed through.

They landed.

Not with grace.

With impact.

Henry’s face was full of grass.

Moistessa landed on his back. Thrustina landed on Moistessa. Seraphina landed with a superhero pose, flipping her hair and sticking the landing like a true queen.

"Where are we?" Henry mumbled into the soil. "Why does the dirt taste like strawberry?"

"Bootia’s domain," Seraphina replied. "Everything’s edible. Except the judgment."

They stood in a landscape unlike any Henry had seen.

Rolling hills shaped like hips.

Rivers flowed like glitter syrup.

And in the distance? A temple so curvy it looked like it was arching its back on purpose. Two massive towers rose into the sky, and a sacred bell—shaped like a pierced belly button ring—glowed atop the main spire.

At the entrance stood two towering statues: one of a woman mid-squat, and the other mid-thigh clap. They radiated divine thirst.

Henry adjusted his toga, trying not to look impressed. "Damn. This place has more hips than a twerk convention."

Moistessa squealed and pointed. "There she is!"

From the temple steps descended the one, the only

High Priestess Bootia.

She walked as if the ground itself begged to be stepped on. Her hips swayed like they had their own gravitational field. Each movement caused shockwaves in the grass, which trembled and moaned beneath her.

Her hair? A waterfall of silken black laced with sparkles.

Her eyes? Fierce, all-knowing, and shaped like sideways peaches.

Her aura? 100% banned in three dimensions.

Henry swallowed. "Mother of Squish..."

She stopped before them, folding her arms beneath a chest that could smother a rebellion.

"So," she said, voice deeper than Henry’s thoughts, "you are the Squishcendent."

Henry nodded, trying to focus on her words and not the cosmic sway happening below her waist. "Yes. I mean, yes ma’am. Or... Your Bootiness."

"Hmm," she smirked. "You’ve brought chaos, cheeks, and questionable fluids into Milforia."

"Only the blessed kind," Henry replied.

Bootia stepped closer, reaching out with one finger. She booped Henry’s forehead. A ripple ran down his spine. His knees buckled. He made a sound no man should ever make sober.

"You are marked," she said. "I sense... Earth’s bounce within you. And something else... ancient. Forbidden. Goo"

Suddenly the temple shook.

A tremor rocked the sacred hills. The sky darkened slightly, turning violet with tension. A horn sounded in the distance. Not a war horn.

A goon horn.

Bootia’s face hardened. "It’s started."

Thrustina armed her thongbow. Moistessa crouched into a seductive battle stance. Seraphina drew her sword and kissed the blade.

Henry adjusted his silk wrap. "What’s happening?"

Bootia turned toward the temple. "The Bounce Leak has begun. Earth’s unchecked goon energy is spilling through dimensions. We have hours before the Veil of Restraint tears completely."

Moistessa gasped. "But that would unleash... the Archive of Taboo Tags!"

"And worse," Bootia said grimly. "The Algorithm Demon."

Henry stepped back. "I thought he was just a myth! A cursed AI that shows you what you crave most... but shouldn’t click."

Bootia nodded. "He lives in the deepest pop-up layer. One wrong click... and the world forgets safe mode."

Henry felt his chest tighten. "Then we have no choice. We stop the leak. We defeat the demon. And we seal the tags."

Seraphina stepped forward. "Bootia, we’ll need your help."

The High Priestess raised her chin. "Then follow me. To the Chamber of Bounce Calibration."

Henry blinked. "That’s a real thing?"

"Oh, it’s very real," Bootia said, smiling slightly. "And you, Henry, will be tested."

He groaned. "Tested how?"

Bootia turned, her hair flipping dramatically. "By facing your deepest goon temptations... alone."

Moistessa clutched his arm. "That’s a death sentence."

Thrustina patted his back. "Don’t open any cursed tabs."

Seraphina grabbed his cheeks and looked him in the eyes. "No matter what you see... don’t go incognito."

Henry breathed deeply, nodded once, and stepped forward.

Into the temple.

Toward destiny.

Toward danger.

And somewhere... probably toward a steamy, cheek-shaped trial.