The night after the rivals' arrival was restless for Ethan, the pavilion's silk walls doing little to block the city's murmurs that drifted on the wind. Nine hundred and forty pregnancies—his legacy, built through fire, water, jungle, and abyss—felt suddenly fragile in the face of Kael and Raek. Those superior forms haunted him: taller, more muscular, faces that commanded lust, cocks that promised dominance. The challenge loomed at dawn—an orgy of endurance where the winner claimed priority in the next realms, the losers withdrawing entirely.
Ethan paced the chamber, the core harem watching with concern. Rowan, her freckled belly rounded with his latest daughter, reached for him. "You'll win. You always do."
But doubt gnawed. What if he lost? The prophecy's thousand pregnancies were nearly met—did he even want to stay? The veil could reopen, sending him home to his old world of mundane days and lonely nights.
Vaeloria, sensing his turmoil, approached. The seven-foot silver-haired goddess moved with graceful submission, her enormous tits bare and swaying heavily, nipples dark and erect in the cool air. "My lord," she whispered, kneeling to bring her face level with his. "Let me ease you."
Ethan nodded, pulling her into the bed. The harem withdrew discreetly, leaving them alone.
Vaeloria's body was a wonder—flawless golden skin, massive breasts that could smother a man, wide hips promising endless pleasure. She pressed him back, straddling his waist, her smooth pussy already dripping with anticipation. "Use me," she begged, pressing her tits against his chest, the weight immense and warm.
He reached up, squeezing those enormous globes, thumbs circling nipples as she ground her wet folds against his hardening cock. But the sensation was overwhelming—the soft, yielding flesh, the heat of her body. When she lifted and guided him inside, her pussy gripping tight and hot, he thrust once—deep and hard—and came instantly, thick ropes spilling into her before he could control it.
Vaeloria froze, sapphire eyes widening in surprise, then hurt. She dismounted slowly, cum leaking down her thighs. "My lord... did I displease you?"
Ethan sat up, breathing heavy. "No—gods, no. You're perfect. It's just... everything."
She knelt before him, enormous tits resting on her thighs, voice trembling. "You came so fast. Like you wanted it over. Is it the challenge? Do you... want to lose?"
He blinked. "Lose? Why would I—"
"The prophecy," she whispered, tears glistening. "Reach one thousand pregnancies to restore balance... and the veil reopens. You could return home. Surely you could deliberately lose tomorrow—spill your seed early—to fulfill it and go back."
The words hung heavy. Ethan stared at her, the thought hitting like a wave. Home. His old life—apartment, job, no void beasts or endless breeding. No Vaeloria, no harem, no daughters.
But the idea felt hollow. "I... I don't want to lose," he said, realizing it as he spoke. "I want to win. To stay. This is my world now."
Vaeloria's eyes softened, pressing her massive tits against him in a hug. "Then prepare. Rest. Tomorrow, show them your heart outlasts their... size."
He slept fitfully, dreams of rivals claiming his women mixing with visions of his daughters' strength.
Dawn came too soon. But before the challenge, Ethan felt a pull—a need to see his legacy in action.
He gathered a small group: Vaeloria, Rowan, Thora, Brynja, and a few originals. They traveled to the city's training grounds—a vast arena where young Amazons honed their skills.
The daughters were extraordinary. Children aged quickly in Elysara—months turning to years in growth. The first-born, from Elara, Liora, and Sylva, were already teens: tall, muscular, with features blending Ethan's and their mothers'. Elara's daughter had golden hair and blue eyes, wielding a spear with deadly precision; Liora's auburn-haired girl commanded flames like the Ember folk; Sylva's silver-maned teen moved with shadow grace, dodging strikes invisibly.
They trained in mock battles: groups clashing with blunted weapons. One daughter—Thora's—pinned three opponents at once, her claws extended in play.
Ethan watched from the stands, heart swelling. Vaeloria leaned close. "They are your gift to us. Stronger than any before."
A sparring match turned real when a minor void rift cracked open—beasts slipping through. The daughters reacted instantly: Elara's girl impaled one with her spear, Liora's burned another with inherited fire, Sylva's vanished and reappeared to slit throats.
The rift sealed, the girls bowed to Ethan. "Father," Elara's daughter said, voice steady. "We fight for you."
He embraced them, the first time feeling the full weight of fatherhood. "Train hard. The world needs you."
Back in the pavilion that night, as the daughters slept in their barracks, Ethan gathered their mothers for a private orgy.
Rowan, Elara, Liora, Sylva, Thora, Brynja—bodies ripe with new pregnancies or recent births, tits heavy with milk, pussies eager. They surrounded him on the bed, mouths and hands worshipping.
Elara sucked first—golden hair falling as her lips wrapped his cock, tongue swirling the head.
Liora joined, auburn locks brushing his thighs as they shared, tongues meeting around his shaft.
Sylva's silver mane mixed in, three mouths sucking in turns—wet, sloppy sounds filling the room.
Thora and Brynja took his balls, pregnant bodies pressing close, milk beading at nipples as they licked and sucked.
Rowan ground her pussy on his hand, moaning as he fingered her to gush.
Vaeloria watched at first, then joined—her enormous tits enveloping his upper body as she lowered her pussy onto his face. "For our daughters," she moaned, grinding as he licked deep.
The orgy built: women riding his cock in turns, pussies clenching as he filled them with cum, tits bouncing, moans echoing. Milk squirted from breasts as orgasms hit, bodies intertwining in a tangle of love and lust.
As the night waned, Vaeloria pulled him aside, silver eyes serious. "You've blessed forty percent of Elysara's lands. The map shows more—forgotten isles, hidden mountains, realms beyond the veil's edge. The rivals will seek them too."
Ethan nodded, the challenge tomorrow weighing heavier. "We expand faster."
She smiled submissively, pressing her massive tits against him. "With you leading, we will."
Nine hundred and forty pregnancies.
The rivals waited at dawn.