The air in the abandoned church hung heavy, the faint echo of Kokabiel's screams still lingering in Issei Hyoudou's ears. The time-frozen Kuoh, bathed in an eerie silver glow, felt like a dream suspended in amber.
Rias Gremory's crimson hair swayed as she knelt beside Asia Argento, who lay unconscious, her blonde locks matted with sweat from her clash with Vali Lucifer. Sona Sitri adjusted her glasses, her calm facade barely masking her concern.
Raynare, Kalawarner, and Mittelt stood guard, their fallen angel wings twitching. Irina Shidou and Xenovia Quarta, newly minted Pawns of Rias's peerage, clutched their arms, still reeling from the revelation of God's death.
Lucifer Morningstar—"Luke"—and Lilith—"Lila"—watched from the shadows, their veiled power a quiet hum in the air.
Issei gripped True Excalibur, its holy light pulsing in his hand, the weight of Dragon Slayer strapped to his back. His heart pounded, not from the battle's aftermath, but from a sudden, sharp jolt in his mind.
The Gamer System, his constant companion, flickered like a dying screen. A cold, mechanical voice echoed in his skull.
System Update: Gamer System Terminated. Observe Skill Removed. Core Abilities Retained. Initiating Gacha System. One Pull Available Daily. Secrecy Restriction Enforced: Revealing System Results in User Death and Soul Erasure.
The interface he'd relied on—stats, levels, the ability to read thoughts and strengths—vanished. He tried to summon Observe on Rias, but his vision remained blank, no floating windows, no insights into her mind.
His chest tightened, but Gamer's Mind steadied him, dulling the panic. Twilight Healing's warmth still thrummed in his veins, and the Phoenix Force's cosmic fire flickered at his fingertips. True Excalibur and Dragon Slayer hadn't faded. He was still himself, just… blind to the numbers.
A new interface blinked into existence, a spinning wheel of light in his mind's eye.
"First Gacha Pull Available. Proceed?"
Issei, wary but curious, mentally nodded. The wheel spun, colors blurring, and stopped on a glowing bottle.
"Reward: Grayfia Lucifuge's Breast Milk (E-tier). Effect: Temporary stamina boost. Stored in Inventory."
Issei's jaw dropped. Grayfia's… what? He shook his head, shoving the absurdity aside. No time to dwell on the Gacha's bizarre sense of humor.
"Issei?" Rias's voice cut through his thoughts. She stood, her crimson eyes searching his face. "You're pale. What's wrong?"
He forced a grin, the system's secrecy rule chaining his tongue. "Just… catching my breath. Asia's okay, right?"
Rias nodded, brushing Asia's hair. "She's exhausted, but Twilight Healing's keeping her stable. Vali didn't aim to kill."
Sona stepped closer, her analytical gaze piercing. "You're hiding something, Issei. Your eyes—they're different."
He laughed nervously, scratching his cheek. "Nah, just tired. Big day, y'know?" The lie burned, but the threat of soul erasure kept his lips sealed.
Luke and Lila exchanged a glance, their veiled power unreadable without Observe. Irina and Xenovia, still shaken, watched him warily, their trust in his Excalibur ownership fragile.
A low, mocking laugh slithered through the church, shattering the moment. The air grew thick, sulfuric, as a teleportation circle flared at the altar.
Diodora Astaroth stepped out, his slick black hair and smug grin oozing malice. His emerald eyes glinted with obsession as they locked on Asia's unconscious form. "My sweet nun," he purred, "how divine you look, even in defeat."
Issei's blood boiled. Diodora, the devil who'd stalked Asia, who'd schemed to defile her purity, stood before them. His High School DxD knowledge screamed: Diodora was a predator, a manipulator who'd orchestrated Asia's suffering in canon. This AU hadn't changed that. Issei stepped forward, True Excalibur flaring. "You're not touching her, you sick bastard."
Diodora's smirk widened. "Oh, the dragon boy with the holy sword. How quaint. I'll take her, and you'll watch." He snapped his fingers, and a dozen devil pawns materialized—hulking brutes with glowing claws, their armor etched with Astaroth crests.
Rias's peerage sprang into action. Akeno's lightning crackled, frying two pawns into ash. Kiba's swords danced, cleaving another in half. Koneko's fists shattered armor, and Gasper's shadows pinned a pawn to the wall.
Sona's water barriers trapped three more, Tsubaki's naginata slicing through them. Raynare's light spears pierced a pawn's chest, while Kalawarner and Mittelt's coordinated strikes gutted another.
Issei didn't wait. True Excalibur shifted into a massive claymore—Mimic's power—its holy light searing the air. He charged, Phoenix Force igniting his body in cosmic flames.
A pawn lunged, claws aimed for his throat, but Issei's Reality Warp slowed time for a heartbeat, letting him sidestep and swing.
Excalibur's Destruction effect erupted, a blast of holy energy vaporizing the pawn and scorching the church's pews.
Diodora clapped slowly, unfazed. "Impressive, Hyoudou. But you're no match for me." He raised a hand, and a wave of demonic energy surged, a black tide that slammed into Issei's team.
Rias's barriers held, but the force knocked Irina and Xenovia back, their Pawn resilience barely keeping them upright.
Issei's Gamer's Body dulled the pain as he skidded across the floor, Excalibur's Rapidly effect doubling his speed. He blurred forward, aiming for Diodora's chest.
The devil sidestepped, his own speed unnerving, and countered with a whip of dark energy that lashed Issei's arm, drawing blood. Twilight Healing flared, sealing the wound instantly.
"You're persistent," Diodora sneered, conjuring a spear of green flame. "But Asia will be mine." He hurled the spear at her unconscious form.
Issei's Phoenix Force roared, telekinesis redirecting the spear into the ceiling, which exploded in a shower of debris.
"Stay away from her!" Issei roared, Excalibur shifting into a spear—Mimic's versatility shining. He thrust, the blade's Blessing effect amplifying its holy power. Diodora blocked with a shield of dark energy, but the impact staggered him, his smirk faltering.
Luke and Lila stepped forward, their veiled auras flaring. "Want us to handle this creep, kid?" Luke asked, cracking his knuckles.
Issei shook his head, eyes burning. "He's mine." His canon knowledge fueled his rage—Diodora's obsession with Asia was unforgivable. This wasn't just a fight; it was justice.
Diodora laughed, summoning more pawns—twenty this time, their claws dripping venom. "You think you can protect her? I'll break you all." He snapped his fingers, and the pawns charged, their roars shaking the church.
Rias's team fought with precision. Akeno's thunderbolts incinerated three pawns. Kiba's speed diced two more. Koneko's punches crushed skulls, and Gasper's shadows consumed another.
Sona's water chains bound a group, Tsubaki's blade finishing them. Raynare, Kalawarner, and Mittelt wove through the chaos, their light spears and claws tearing through devil flesh.
Irina and Xenovia, finding their resolve, joined the fray—Irina's holy aura flaring, Xenovia's swordplay relentless.
Issei focused on Diodora, Excalibur shifting into a scythe. He swung, Nightmare's fear aura making Diodora flinch, his movements slowing.
The devil countered with a barrage of green flames, but Issei's Reality Warp bent the space, redirecting the flames into a pawn, who screamed as it burned.
Issei closed the gap, Excalibur's Ruler effect forcing Diodora to his knees, the holy command overwhelming his will.
"You… can't…" Diodora gasped, struggling against the pressure. Issei didn't hesitate. He drove Excalibur's blade into Diodora's shoulder, holy light searing his flesh. The devil screamed, thrashing as Issei twisted the blade, blood pooling on the floor.
"This is for Asia," Issei growled. He yanked Excalibur free and swung again, the scythe's edge slicing Diodora's arm clean off. The devil howled, his remaining hand conjuring a desperate blast of dark energy.
Issei's Phoenix Force flared, cosmic flames consuming the attack. He grabbed Diodora's throat with telekinesis, lifting him off the ground.
"Pathetic," Issei spat, his voice cold. He slammed Diodora into the altar, the stone cracking under the impact. Excalibur shifted into a massive hammer, its Destruction effect charging.
Issei swung, the hammer smashing Diodora's chest, ribs splintering, blood spraying. The devil gasped, his eyes wide with terror.
Issei wasn't done. He drew Dragon Slayer, its blade gleaming with draconic menace. Though ineffective against non-dragons, its indestructible edge was perfect for brutality.
He slashed, carving deep gashes across Diodora's legs, crippling him. The devil's screams echoed, but Issei's Gamer's Mind kept him focused, unyielding.
"For every time you looked at Asia," Issei snarled, slashing again, blood splattering the altar. Diodora tried to crawl away, his remaining arm clawing at the floor. Issei stomped his hand, bones crunching, and raised Dragon Slayer high. "You're done."
The final blow was merciless. Dragon Slayer plunged through Diodora's chest, pinning him to the floor. Issei twisted the blade, holy and cosmic energies mingling as he poured Phoenix Force flames into the wound.
Diodora's body convulsed, his screams fading into gurgles as flames consumed him from within. His eyes dulled, his body charred to ash, leaving only a scorched outline on the stone.
Issei panted, Dragon Slayer dripping blood. The church was silent, the last of Diodora's pawns defeated by Rias's team. Asia stirred, her green eyes fluttering open. "Issei…?" she whispered.
He knelt beside her, Excalibur reverting to a sword. "He's gone, Asia. He'll never hurt you again."
She clung to him, tears streaming. Rias and Sona joined them, their hands on his shoulders. Raynare, Kalawarner, and Mittelt smirked, proud of their dragon.
Irina and Xenovia stared, their expressions a mix of awe and unease. Luke gave a nod of respect, Lila's eyes glinting with approval.
The Gacha System pinged in Issei's mind.
"Daily Pull Reset Tomorrow. Current Reward: Grayfia Lucifuge's Breast Milk (E-tier). Use?"
Issei grimaced, shoving the thought away. Not now, weird system.
The time-freeze began to lift, Kuoh's colors returning. The church's ruins stood as a testament to the battle, but Diodora's death marked a victory.
Issei's canon knowledge told him the war wasn't over—Vali's challenge, the Great War's fallout, and the system's mysteries loomed. But for now, Asia was safe, and his team was unbroken.
Rias kissed his cheek. "You did it, my king."
Sona adjusted her glasses, smiling. "A brutal but necessary end."
Asia hugged him tighter. "Thank you, Issei."
He grinned, True Excalibur warm in his hand. The Gacha System was a wildcard, its first reward absurd, but he'd adapt. Diodora was dead, and Issei Hyoudou, dragon and devil, was ready for whatever came next.
___________________
The ruins of the abandoned church in Kuoh still smoldered faintly as the last echoes of battle faded into the crisp October air.
But for Issei Hyoudou, normalcy was a fragile illusion. Diodora's ashes had scattered on the wind, Asia safe in Rias's arms, yet the weight of it all pressed on him like an unseen yoke.
Vali's mocking departure, the Gamer System's abrupt abandonment—Observe gone, leaving him adrift in a world of unknowns—and now this bizarre Gacha replacement, whispering promises of randomness in his mind.
His team had dispersed: Rias back to the Occult Research Club for debriefing, Sona coordinating with her peerage, Asia resting under Akeno's watchful eye.
Raynare, Kalawarner, and Mittelt had pulled him aside for a quick, heated embrace, their whispers of devotion a balm, but even that couldn't erase the knot in his chest.
He needed an escape. Something far from devils, dragons, and divine swords. True Excalibur hung at his hip, its holy hum a constant reminder of his burdens, while Dragon Slayer's draconic edge weighed heavy on his back.
The Phoenix Force simmered beneath his skin, cosmic flames begging for release, but channeling it now would only draw eyes. Screw it, Issei thought, slipping into an alley behind the school.
One pull a day. Might as well see what this stupid thing coughs up. The Gacha interface flickered to life in his vision, a garish wheel of ethereal lights spinning at his mental command.
"Daily Pull Initiated. Good luck, User."
The wheel whirred, colors bleeding into one another—crimson reds, abyssal blacks, flickering golds—before clattering to a halt on a jagged, rune-etched ticket.
"Reward: One-Way Ticket to Skyrim Universe (AU Variant). Effect: Instantaneous transport to the realm of Tamriel, Skyrim Province. Duration: User-defined, up to 72 hours. Warning: Alternate Universe—Local divergences apply. Stored in Inventory."
Issei's eyebrows shot up. Skyrim? Like, the game? Dragons, elves, that whole mess? His canon knowledge of High School DxD didn't cover interdimensional jaunts, but he'd binged enough games in his downtime to know Skyrim's brutal beauty: snow-capped peaks, ancient ruins, and vampires lurking in the shadows.
In this AU twist, the ticket's fine print pinged in his mind—Serana Volkihar has slain her tyrannical father, Lord Harkon, and ascended as the Goddess of All Vampires, ruling from the shadowed halls of Volkihar Keep.
Her dominion unites the bloodlines, a eternal night under her crimson gaze. Stress relief? Hell yeah. A world of frost and fangs might just be the distraction he craved—no peerages, no fallen angels, just raw, unfiltered adventure. Or whatever else it threw at him.
He pulled the ticket from his Inventory, a crisp parchment crackling with arcane energy, etched with Nordic runes that glowed like fresh blood. Crushing it in his fist, Issei felt the world lurch.
Reality folded around him, the alleyway's brick walls dissolving into swirling mists of white and gray. The air turned biting cold, carrying the scent of pine and iron-rich earth.
His boots crunched on fresh snow as the mist cleared, revealing a jagged coastline under a perpetual twilight sky. Waves crashed against black cliffs, and in the distance, a foreboding castle loomed—Volkihar Keep, its spires piercing the aurora like fangs. Skyrim. He was here.
The wind howled, whipping his school uniform into disarray, but Gamer's Body shrugged off the chill, keeping his core warm. True Excalibur and Dragon Slayer felt heavier in this alien air, their powers humming with unfamiliar resonance.
Okay, stress relief. Find a cave, punch some draugr, maybe flirt with a barmaid. But the Gacha's whims had other plans. A pull of otherworldly hunger tugged at his senses, drawing him toward the keep.
His Phoenix Force stirred, cosmic flames flickering in his veins, urging him forward. Goddess of Vampires, huh? Wonder if she's as hot as the mods make her out to be.
The path wound upward, slick with ice, but his enhanced agility—courtesy of Excalibur's lingering Rapidly echo—made it a stroll. Thralls patrolled the grounds, undead eyes glowing red, but they parted like mist before him, as if sensing a predator greater than their mistress.
The drawbridge lowered with a groan, chains rattling, and Issei stepped into the grand hall. Torchlight danced on stone walls adorned with ancient tapestries of blood moons and elder scrolls. At the far end, upon a throne of ebony and ivory, sat her.
Serana Volkihar, Goddess Incarnate. She was a vision carved from midnight and frost: pale skin like polished marble, veined faintly with the blue of eternal undeath, contrasting her full, crimson lips curved in a knowing smile.
Her eyes—golden slits, predatory and ancient—locked onto him, pupils dilating like a cat's in the dark. Long, raven-black hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing a face both ethereal and fiercely beautiful, high cheekbones sharp as daggers.
She wore a gown of shadowed silk, clinging to her voluptuous form like a lover's grasp—ample breasts straining against the fabric, hips flaring wide, her legs crossed in regal poise that hinted at lethal grace.
In this AU, her ascension had amplified her allure; faint aura of blood magic swirled around her, making the air taste of copper and desire.
No longer the reluctant daughter of canon, she was a queen unchained, her father's blood on her hands forging her into divinity. The hall's silence broke only by the drip of melting ice and her soft, melodic laugh.
"A mortal wanderer," she purred, her voice a velvet blade, laced with the archaic lilt of ancient Atmorans. "Or something more? The winds of Oblivion whisper of your arrival, dragon-blooded one. What brings you to my eternal court?"
Issei swallowed, his stress melting under that gaze. Up close, she was intoxicating—friendly yet lonely, her eyes betraying centuries of isolation despite her godly throne. His canon knowledge painted her as witty, sarcastic, a survivor who'd banter through apocalypses.
Here, as goddess, she radiated power, but the flicker of curiosity in her expression screamed for connection. "Name's Issei," he said, stepping closer, unfazed by the thralls' glares. "Needed a break from my world. Fights, politics, the usual. Heard this place has killer views." He grinned, letting Phoenix Force spark faintly in his eyes, a cosmic flirtation.
Serana's lips twitched, amusement dancing in her golden orbs. She rose, her gown whispering against the stone, revealing the lithe strength of her form—curves that promised both peril and paradise. "A break, you say? Mortals come to Skyrim seeking glory or death. You seek... respite?"
She circled him, her scent—jasmine and frostbite—enveloping him. Her fingers trailed his arm, cool as moonlight, sending shivers that had nothing to do with the cold. "I sense fire in you, Issei. Not the crude blaze of dragons, but something stellar, unbound. It calls to my blood."
He met her gaze, heart racing. Stress? What stress? This was better than any cave dive. "Yeah? Well, your vibe's got that eternal night thing going. Kinda hot." Bold, maybe stupid, but Gamer's Mind kept his nerves steel. She laughed again, fuller this time, and with a wave, the thralls vanished into shadows. The hall emptied, leaving them alone under the vaulted ceiling, where constellations of blood-red stars twinkled in illusionary frescoes.
"Hot, is it?" Serana stepped closer, her body brushing his, breasts pressing soft against his chest. "Centuries of solitude breed... appetites. My father's fall freed me, made me goddess over the night-walkers, but it left voids no throne fills." Her hand cupped his jaw, thumb tracing his lips, eyes darkening with hunger. "You smell of life, of heat. Show me your fire, wanderer. Relieve my stresses, and I'll grant yours."
Issei's resolve crumbled like Skyrim snow under dragonfire. He pulled her in, lips crashing against hers in a kiss that tasted of forbidden wine—cool at first, then igniting as her fangs grazed his tongue, drawing a bead of blood that she lapped with a moan.
Her hands roamed, tearing at his uniform jacket, nails raking his skin just enough to thrill. He responded in kind, Phoenix Force flaring to warm her undead chill, his palms sliding under her gown to cup her heavy breasts, thumbs circling nipples that hardened like diamonds.
Serana gasped into his mouth, arching, her legs parting instinctively as he backed her against the throne.
Clothes fell away in a frenzy—his shirt shredded by her claws, her gown pooling at her feet like spilled ink. Naked, she was divine perfection: full breasts heaving with unneeded breath, nipples erect and rosy against porcelain skin; a taut waist flaring to wide hips and thick thighs that begged to be spread; between them, a neatly trimmed patch of dark curls guarding slick, swollen folds that glistened with vampiric dew. Issei's cock strained free, thick and veined, a monstrous length—nine inches of girthy heat, throbbing with draconic vigor, the tip already beading pre-cum. Serana's eyes widened, golden irises flaring as she sank to her knees, worshipful.
"By Molag Bal," she whispered, voice husky, wrapping cool fingers around his shaft, stroking from base to crown. "Such a beast... fit for a goddess." Her tongue flicked out, tracing the underside, fangs teasing without piercing as she took him in—lips stretching wide around his girth, throat relaxing to swallow half his length in one descent.
Issei groaned, hand tangling in her raven hair, hips bucking gently as she bobbed, hollowing her cheeks, humming vibrations that shot pleasure straight to his core. Saliva dripped down her chin, mixing with his pre, her free hand kneading his balls, heavy and full.
But he wanted more—needed it. Stress relief meant claiming, and she was offering herself on a silver platter. He pulled her up, spinning her to bend over the throne's arm, her ass presented like a pale moon—plump cheeks parting to reveal her dripping sex and the tight rosebud above.
"Gonna fuck you till you forget eternity," he growled, aligning his cockhead with her entrance. Serana pushed back, impaling herself with a cry, her walls clenching like a vice—cool, velvet, undead muscles rippling around his invading heat.
He thrust deep, bottoming out in one brutal stroke, his balls slapping her clit. She screamed, a sound of ecstasy and release, her body shuddering as he filled her completely, stretching her divine pussy to its limits. Issei didn't hold back; Phoenix Force surged, warming his length to feverish levels, making her inner walls flutter and gush.
He pounded relentlessly, hips snapping with superhuman force, each plunge eliciting wet slaps and her guttural moans. Her breasts swung pendulously, nipples scraping the throne's ivory, while her claws gouged the ebony arms.
"Yes—harder, my dragon!" Serana begged, glancing back, eyes wild. "Claim your goddess—ruin me!" He obliged, one hand gripping her hip, the other reaching around to pinch her clit, rolling the swollen nub until she squirted, juices soaking his thighs. But this was just foreplay.
The real claiming began when he flipped her onto the throne, spreading her legs wide, hooking them over his shoulders. Her stomach, flat and toned, exposed vulnerably, quivered under his gaze.
Issei's eyes darkened with primal intent. Impregnate her. Make her mine. His knowledge whispered of vampire lore—undead fertility twisted by blood magic, but as goddess, Serana's body thrummed with potent life, her ascension granting her the ability to bear, to crave seed.
He sheathed himself again, slower this time, grinding deep to kiss her cervix with his tip. "Gonna fill you," he murmured, voice rough. "Pump you so full, you'll swell with my child. Goddess or not, you'll carry my heir."
Serana's breath hitched, a mix of shock and feral lust. "Do it... breed me, Issei. Make me mortal in your fire." Her hands clutched his back, nails drawing blood that Twilight Healing sealed instantly, urging him on.
For the next two hours, time blurred into a symphony of flesh and dominance. Issei thrust with deliberate savagery, his massive cock—thick as her wrist, ridged with veins—plunging into her depths, battering her womb's entrance with every hilt-deep stroke.
Her pussy clenched greedily, milking him, walls undulating in vampiric rhythm, but he held back his release, building the pressure.
His hands, large and callused, splayed over her exposed stomach, fingers digging in—not painfully, but possessively—squeezing the soft flesh every second, as if molding her body to his will. With each squeeze, he imagined his seed taking root, his essence flooding her core, forcing her divine uterus to submit.
The first hour was a marathon of positions, each designed to drive deeper. He pinned her down, her back arched off the throne, legs splayed obscenely as he jackhammered into her, his thumbs pressing circles into her lower belly, feeling the phantom bulge of his cock distorting her from within. "Feel that?" he grunted, squeezing harder, her skin yielding under his grip. "That's me, owning your womb. Gonna knock you up so deep, you'll taste my cum in your throat."
Serana wailed, orgasms crashing over her in waves—first a gush that soaked the throne, then a full-body convulsion, her golden eyes rolling back as fangs bit her own lip bloody.
Her breasts bounced wildly, milk-white skin flushing pink from his heat, nipples leaking faint traces of ethereal dew that he lapped up, sucking hard enough to bruise.
He shifted, pulling her onto his lap, facing away, her ass grinding against his pelvis as she rode him reverse. His arms wrapped around, one hand mauling her breasts—pinching, twisting, eliciting yelps—while the other never left her stomach, squeezing rhythmically, like a heartbeat claiming territory.
"Squeeze for me, goddess," he commanded, and she did, her own hands joining his, pressing down as he thrust up, the combined pressure making her feel every inch invading her fertile core.
Her walls spasmed, trying to pull him deeper, and he obliged, grinding his pubic bone against her clit until she shattered again, screaming his name to the rafters, her juices foaming around his base.
By the ninety-minute mark, sweat—sheened despite her undeath—glistened on her body, her hair matted, lips swollen from kisses and bites.
Issei laid her on the hall's fur-strewn floor, missionary now, intimate and brutal. He hooked her ankles behind his neck, folding her in half, her stomach a taut plane under his relentless squeezes.
Each thrust was a declaration: cockhead breaching her cervix's tight ring, dipping into her womb proper, stirring the sacred chamber. "Here it comes," he growled on the hour's cusp, pace faltering as his balls tightened.
But he edged, pulling back to shallow pumps, teasing her entrance before slamming home, his fingers kneading her belly like dough, ensuring no drop escaped.
Serana was a wreck—coherent words lost to babble, her goddess poise shattered into submissive bliss. "Please... fill me... make me heavy with you..." Her hips bucked desperately, chasing the fullness, her pussy a sopping vise that fluttered with aftershocks.
The final thirty minutes devolved into pure breeding frenzy. Issei pinned her wrists above her head with one hand, the other a constant on her stomach—squeezing, rubbing, pressing down to feel his own girth bulge her abdomen visibly with each plunge.
"Gonna flood you," he panted, thrusts erratic now, the slap of skin echoing like war drums. Her cervix yielded fully, a soft barrier giving way to his insistent crown, allowing shallow dips into her womb's velvet depths. The sensation was electric—her innermost sanctum hugging his tip, greedy for his load.
With a roar that shook the keep's foundations, Issei came. His cock swelled impossibly thicker, pulsing as ropes of thick, potent cum erupted directly into her womb—hot jets painting her walls white, filling the chamber to overflowing.
He didn't stop thrusting, churning his seed deeper, his free hand squeezing her stomach in time with each spurt, compressing her abdomen to force the cum past any barrier, ensuring it bathed every ovum in his essence.
Serana convulsed, her own climax milking him dry, pussy clenching in rhythmic waves that pulled more from him—gallon after gallon, or so it felt, her belly distending slightly under his grip, a soft swell from the sheer volume.
He kept going, shallow grinds through his orgasm, squeezing relentlessly—once per second, fingers digging into the rising curve of her abdomen, willing conception. "Take it all," he murmured, watching her face contort in rapture, golden eyes glazing as fertility magic—twisted by her godhood and his Phoenix Force—ignited.
Deep within, his seed took hold: a spark of draconic-vampiric life igniting, her womb contracting around the promise of his child, impregnating her irrevocably. Cum leaked from her stuffed pussy, but his squeezes trapped most inside, her body absorbing it like parched earth.
Two hours blurred to an end, Issei collapsing atop her, spent but sated. Serana cradled him, her hand over his on her subtly rounded stomach, a soft glow emanating from within. "You've... undone me," she whispered, voice raw. "A child... our child. The night-walkers will kneel to this heir."
He kissed her forehead, stress evaporated. "Worth the trip." But the ticket's timer pinged—time to return. With a final, tender thrust, he withdrew, cum gushing free, and summoned the portal. Skyrim faded, Volkihar's chill replaced by Kuoh's autumn breeze.
Back in the alley, Issei straightened his torn clothes, a grin splitting his face. Rias would sense the change in his aura, but explanations could wait. A goddess fallen, a child conceived—best stress relief ever. The Gacha? Maybe not so stupid after all.