The Great Zhou Mountains fell away.
Not in the way a landscape vanished beneath flight, but in the way an ink painting was rolled up—lines and strokes folding in on themselves, stacked neatly, stored.
Ren stepped sideways.
His inner Heaven unfurled above his soul like a second sky.
Stars of different worlds burned in that firmament—one tinged with Martial World's heavy laws, another colored by devils and angels and dragons, others still dim, unopened. Paths of neutral chaos threaded between them, invisible roads his Dao had carved: Biblical God's old seals rewired into proper coordinates, Infinity's borderless nature bent into anchors, Great Red's dream-trails hammered into stable routes, Trihexa's irreversible destruction bound into the rule that roads he closed would not reopen without his consent.
Martial World's star flickered with the afterglow of a recent storm.
He could still feel Great Zhou's morning chill in his bones, still taste Ashura killing intent on his tongue.
Ling Sen's spear had come down like a falling sky, Ashura Intent roaring around the thrust, trying to carve a battlefield into existence through sheer belief. Ren had met it with a body stepping fully into Altering Muscle, Heretical God Force compressing power into his meridians until his flesh sang. Ashura and Ashura had crashed together—one forged from lifetimes of slaughter, the other brand-new but riding the weight of a Primordial Saint's Dao.
The spear strike had shattered stone for a hundred li.
His sword had shattered Ling Sen's belief.
Mo Eversnow's cool presence in the Magic Cube had watched silently as he stood amid the dust, Burning Heat seared clean, Ashura Intent no longer just something he borrowed—but something that now curled obediently around his own Anima like a new ring of crimson.
All of that sat, fresh and sharp, in the Martial World star.
Ren let it dim a little as he released his grip.
DxD's star brightened in answer.
He stepped out of his Heaven and back into a familiar gravity.
..
Evening light slanted through the manor's tall windows, stained gold by the setting sun.
The air smelled faintly of coffee, ozone, holy light, and devil magic—a Kuoh blend of mundane and supernatural that had become its own kind of home. Voices hummed on the edge of hearing. Soul Palaces glowed through walls like a cluster of small suns, each with its own flavor: destruction, lightning, twilight, touki, order, sea-blue dragon ferocity, gentle church bells.
Ren stood for a moment in the quiet hallway just outside the main living room.
His phone lay on the entry table where he'd left it, screen blank except for the lock screen and a single notification.
Thirty-two minutes.
In Martial World, the Great Zhou dawn felt like another lifetime. Ashura killing fields, Ling Sen's spear, Bai Jingyun's stubborn eyes, the metallic taste of his own blood as he stepped into Altering Muscle—each memory sat sharp and vivid, as if carved into bone.
Here, less than an hour had passed.
His Dao Heart beat once, slow and full.
The rhythm had changed.
It wasn't louder. It wasn't faster. It was… deeper. Like a drum that had been hollow before and now had proper wood to resonate in.
Burning Heat curled in his meridians, cleaner than that morning, a quiet, obedient sun waiting to be called. Ashura Intent lay coiled around his Anima like a thin, controlled ring of crimson—not just Ling Sen's battlefield anymore, but his own refined resolve.
His Dao Heart accepted the new weight without strain.
He exhaled.
Time to switch flavors.
He pushed open the door.
...
Conversation cut off like someone had sliced the sound with a sword.
Most of his girls were there.
Rias sat on one couch, arms folded over a book open in her lap. She wasn't reading it. Crimson eyes snapped to the door the instant it moved, pupils tightening, a small line dug deep between her brows.
Akeno lounged beside her, legs crossed, hair down around her shoulders, a cup of tea cradled in both hands. Her usual lazy smile hovered at the corners of her lips, but lightning slept under her skin more tightly coiled than usual.
Asia knelt on a cushion with a stack of healing texts. Her hands were pressed together hard enough that her knuckles were white, half-formed prayers still lingering in the way her fingers curled around the pages.
Koneko sat on the arm of the couch, tail flicking slowly, a box of snacks open in her lap. One ear twitched toward him before the rest of her did, eyes narrowing, nose twitching once.
Le Fay perched near the coffee table, a spread of magic circles and notebook pages around her like a paper nest. Her pen had stopped mid-stroke. Seekvaira sat stiffly in an armchair with a tablet, glasses glinting, posture textbook-straight even while tension tightened her jaw.
On the opposite side, Tiamat leaned against the window frame, arms folded. Her dragon aura was compressed into something that still felt like an ocean behind a dam, deep and ancient. Beside her, Gabriel sat on the rug, shoes off, toes digging into the carpet, hands folded over her knees, holy light dimmer than usual.
Eyes.
A dozen pairs locked onto him at once.
He felt every thread of their concern like small fingers tugging his sleeve.
Ren smiled.
Not the broad grin he used for jokes and crowds. A smaller one, easier, with the corners of his eyes soft.
"Hey," he said. "Miss me that much?"
Rias' book snapped shut.
"Thirty minutes," she said. Her tone was calm; the vein by her temple wasn't. "You vanished in the middle of the afternoon. No magic circle. No warning. No message."
Akeno's mouth curved, but the smile didn't reach her eyes.
"Ara… ara. Ren really knows how to make a girl nervous," she murmured.
Asia exhaled his name in one breath—"Ren!"—and half-rose, then stopped herself, fingers curling in her skirt like she was afraid that moving too quickly would make him disappear again.
Koneko just stared at him.
"…You smell different," she said bluntly.
That got everyone else to blink.
Seekvaira pushed her glasses higher, eyes narrowing. "Different how?"
Koneko's nose wrinkled. She thought for a second, searching for words.
"…Like blood and fire," she said at last. "But clean. Not… rotten."
Tiamat's gaze narrowed.
She'd felt it too—not the scent, but the quiet shift in his presence. His Dao, usually like a deep, slow river, now carried a faint undercurrent of something sharper. A battlefield that wasn't this world's, clinging to him like pale smoke.
Ren crossed the room at his usual pace.
No hurry. No guilt.
He let them see that his breathing was steady, his aura calm. Hell Suppressing Immortal Physique sank under his skin, turning the weight of their worry into something that slid off gently instead of pushing him down.
Asia moved first.
She practically launched herself off the cushion and into him.
He caught her with both arms, her small body slamming into his chest with more force than someone her size should have. She clung, fingers twisting into his shirt, face buried just under his collarbone.
"Where did you go?" she asked into his chest, voice muffled but tight.
He rubbed a hand over her back, fingers moving in slow circles.
"Out," he said. "And back."
"Ren," Rias said.
The president's voice wanted to come out. The girlfriend's voice wrapped around it and made it softer, but no less firm.
He met her gaze over Asia's shoulder.
"Mm," he said. "I know."
He let Asia breathe into his shirt for a few more heartbeats, feeling her heartbeat slowly sync with the calm thump of his Dao Heart, then eased her slightly to the side without breaking contact. She ended up tucked tight against his right side instead of hanging off him.
One arm stayed around her.
His other hand reached out and sank into Rias' hair, fingers threading through crimson silk, thumb brushing lightly along her scalp.
"Sorry for worrying you," he said. "I pushed a new road a little harder than planned."
Rias' eyes searched his face.
His expression was the same relaxed calm as always.
But.
Underneath, something had definitely shifted.
His silence had weight now, the way it did after a breakthrough, but stronger. His gaze felt a touch more distant at the edges—like he'd been looking at a horizon she couldn't quite see and hadn't completely come back from it yet.
"New road," she repeated quietly. "Not… another faction's mess?"
He shook his head.
"Not Heaven. Not Norse. Not Khaos Brigade, not the Alliance of Hell." His lips quirked. "This time, nobody here managed to piss me off. It's… external."
"External?" Seekvaira echoed, brow furrowing. "As in… beyond the world's barrier?"
Le Fay's eyes went wide. "Ah—like when you chased those threads during the Alliance meeting…"
Gabriel tilted her head, light hair sliding over her shoulder.
"Another… world?" she asked softly.
Ren's smile deepened a notch.
"Call it a distant region of reality," he said. "One the mapmakers here haven't figured out how to draw yet."
Le Fay's fingers fluttered. "So you went adventuring alone in an unknown parallel world for half an hour."
"Pretty much," he said. "But I took precautions. And I came back."
Akeno watched him silently for a moment, tea cup forgotten on the table.
"…Your eyes are different," she said finally.
He glanced at her, amused.
"Different good or different bad?"
She set the cup down very carefully.
"Different like… someone who has seen another sky," she murmured. "And is still hearing the wind from there."
Tiamat snorted softly.
"Of course he went to look at another sky," she said. "Idiot human can't sit still when there's a path he hasn't poked."
But under the exasperation, there was a low, tight thread of something almost like fear.
She'd watched him vanish without a trace more than once. She'd watched him stand in front of gods and monsters and speak with a calm that made beings older than civilizations actually listen. The idea that he could simply step out of their universe again whenever he liked…
Annoying.
He was hers too.
She didn't like the idea of some far-off realm chewing on him where she couldn't see it.
Ren shifted his weight just enough to turn his body toward her, bringing her properly into his orbit.
"Tia," he said.
She clicked her tongue. "What?"
"Come here."
"Hah?" Her brows shot up. "You don't get to vanish and then—"
He raised one hand, fingers opening in invitation, palm facing her.
His eyes met hers.
Not pushing. Not commanding.
Just there. Steady.
Tiamat's jaw tightened.
Then she sighed through her nose.
"…You're really—"
She pushed off the window frame and stalked across the room, blue hair swaying, aura rippling faintly around her like the sea moving under a calm surface. She stopped in front of him and glared up.
"This had better be good."
"It's always good with you," he said, voice warm.
He slid his hand from the air into her hair, fingers tugging gently, thumb brushing the base of one horn in a slow, lazy circle.
Her breath caught.
"Ara," Akeno murmured, amused glint flickering back into her eyes. "Cheating, Ren."
Rias coughed lightly, cheeks tinting.
Asia's face went pink against his chest.
Koneko's tail flicked faster.
Ren chuckled under his breath.
"Alright," he said. "Before this turns into a line… sit down, all of you. I owe you an explanation."
...
They shifted.
Rias, Akeno, and Asia reclaimed the main couch. Ren ended up in the middle because there was nowhere else he was allowed to be. Rias immediately claimed his left arm, fingers wrapping around his sleeve; Asia tucked herself against his right side, hands still fisted lightly in his shirt; Akeno draped an arm along the back of the couch so her fingers could idly play with his hair.
Koneko appropriated his lap with the quiet entitlement of a cat that had decided on her spot, settling sideways so she could watch his face.
Tiamat dropped onto the armrest beside him, one knee up, posture casual, one hand resting on his shoulder like an anchor. Her tail lay along the back of the couch like a lazy serpent, but the tip twitched.
Seekvaira, Le Fay, and Gabriel formed a second arc across from them—Seekvaira with her legs crossed and tablet in hand, Le Fay leaning forward, elbows on her knees, and Gabriel with her hands folded lightly in her lap, worry open on her face.
Around them, a dozen Soul Palaces turned quietly in the background—little worlds orbiting his Heaven, their circulation patterns already influenced by Myriad Origin Scripture and his Dao.
He let the room breathe for a second.
Then, fingers still absently stroking Koneko's hair, he spoke.
"I've been working on a travel art," he said. "You've seen pieces of it already. The Veil, the way I can reach across the world and yank people to me, walk through cracks in the Realm of the Dead, drop by Amaterasu's place and Asgard in the same afternoon."
Seekvaira nodded slowly.
"Yes. You used Biblical and dragon foundations to construct a system of stable inter-realm paths," she said. "I have been trying to map its logic, but it does not… obey any standard magic theory."
Le Fay raised her hand halfway, then remembered she didn't need to in his living room.
"You said there were other… places," she added. "Places you hadn't gone yet."
"Mm." He tapped a finger lightly on Koneko's back, feeling the steady drum of her Touki posture under his hand. "One of those places is what I tested today. A world where cultivation runs deep. Martial civilization shaped by different laws than this one. Heavy heaven-and-earth pressure, tribulations, long roads, very narrow ladders."
Akeno's eyes sharpened.
"Dangerous?" she asked.
"Some parts," he admitted. "For locals. For me…" He tilted his head. "It's work. And training. Their heavens are jealous, their sects territorial. Their geniuses climb ladders someone else built and then hit ceilings nobody told them about."
Rias' fingers tightened around his arm.
"You went there alone," she said quietly. "Without telling us."
"Yeah." He didn't dodge it. "I did."
"Why?" Asia's voice was small.
He looked around at all of them, letting his gaze rest on each face for a moment.
"I needed to move fast," he said. "Faster than a council, faster than a war. There are things I can only test on roads that don't connect back here yet. Laws I need to feel, ceilings I want to break in a place where the backlash won't tear this world's fabric."
He smiled faintly.
"And I wanted to see what kind of sprouts are growing under someone else's sky."
Gabriel's head tilted, golden eyes thoughtful.
"Sprouts?" she repeated.
"People," he said. "Kids swinging swords in mountain valleys, old masters guarding dying legacies, tribes clinging to scraps of divinity in swamps. Good bones. Good hearts. Very narrow paths."
His eyes turned distant for a heartbeat, seeing Great Zhou's peaks again—the narrow platforms, the rust-colored mist of Ashura Intent, Bai Jingyun stubbornly gripping her sword.
"I don't like narrow paths," he said softly. "You all know that."
Rias exhaled slowly.
"I know," she said. "I also know you. If you see a cage, you're going to pry it open."
"Guilty," he said, a corner of his mouth lifting.
Silence stretched.
Then Akeno leaned in a little, cheek brushing his shoulder.
"Ren," she said, voice light but edged, "you said you were going to explain. Not just about new worlds and ladders. About you."
Asia nodded, eyes wide. Koneko's tail wrapped around his wrist like a silent question.
Tiamat's gaze narrowed.
"…He's dancing around something," she muttered.
Ren laughed under his breath.
"Can't fool you," he said. "Alright."
He drew a breath.
His Dao Heart beat with that new depth again—Martial World's Ashura fields, DxD's dragons and systems, Emperor's Domination's ruthless Dao superposed in one quiet thump.
"I'm not going to lie to you," he said.
The air shifted.
Every girl in the room straightened just a little.
"That other world?" he continued. "I'm not just sightseeing. I'm going to fight, to refine my Dao, to open roads. I'm going to help people there. And…" His tone stayed calm, but his eyes grew more serious. "If fate lets it line up, I'm probably going to grow close to some of them. To women there."
The words dropped into the quiet like stones into a still lake.
No one was truly surprised—not with who he was, not with how many of them already shared him—but having it laid out that plainly still hit.
Rias' fingers tightened so hard her knuckles turned white.
"…I see," she said. Her smile was small and very controlled. "So you come back from seeing another sky, and your first thought is to tell your girlfriends you might be courting girls from that sky too."
"Basically, yeah," he said easily. "Better you hear it from me now than find out later from some rumor."
Her jaw worked.
"You're unbelievable," she whispered.
"Probably," he agreed.
Asia swallowed.
"Ren," she began, voice trembling, "does that mean… you'll spend less time here? That you'll… love us less?"
He shifted his arm, pulling her just a little closer so she could feel the warmth of his chest and the steady beat behind it.
"Look at me," he said gently.
She did, blue eyes big and wet.
"Do you feel anything missing?" he asked. "Anything less in the way I'm holding you, the way my Dao sits around your Soul Palace, the way I look at you?"
Her eyes filled more.
"…No," she said, almost offended at the thought. "You're… the same. Just… heavier. In a good way."
He smiled, soft but sure.
"Exactly. My path's getting wider, not thinner. My Dao Heart doesn't split love; it stretches it. That's part of who I am. Part of why you fell for me in the first place."
He shifted his gaze to everyone else.
"And I'm not going to pretend otherwise. I won't tell you pretty little lies about 'you're the only ones' when that's never been my road. You're all too smart and too strong for that."
Akeno's lashes lowered.
"…Honest to the point of cruelty," she murmured.
He shook his head.
"Honest to the point of respect," he said. "If I hid it, that would be cruelty."
The words hung there.
Then Koneko spoke.
"…Are you leaving," she asked, eyes flat and direct, "for long?"
He snorted.
"No," he said. "That's the other part."
He lifted his free hand and pinched the air.
A tiny crack in reality opened between his fingers—no wider than a fingernail, just enough that they could feel a faint, strange breeze sigh through it. A smell that didn't belong to this world slipped through: Great Zhou's cold stone and metallic Ashura tang.
"I'm not going on some years-long closed-door adventure," he said. "I built the road right. Travel time's nothing now. When I step over there, my Heaven keeps anchor here. For you, it's hours at most. Like today—I went, fought, learned, came back, and my coffee in the kitchen is probably still drinkable."
Le Fay's eyes shone despite herself.
"That's… absurd," she said. "And amazing."
Seekvaira exhaled, shoulders lowering a fraction.
"So what you are saying," she summarized, "is that you will be… commuting."
Ren laughed.
"Yeah," he said. "I'm not resigning from Kuoh. I just picked up a part-time world."
Akeno bit her lip, then let it go, eyes softening.
"And us?" she asked quietly. "Where do we fit in that schedule?"
He looked at her.
"Front row," he said. "Always."
Rias made a small noise beside him.
"Do you plan to bring them here?" she asked. "Those 'if fate allows it' women. Martial geniuses from that world, devout girls from mountain sects…"
Her tone had turned sharp and petty in exactly the way that said she was more scared than angry.
He stroked her hair again, thumb smoothing the line between her brows.
"Eventually," he said. "When the roads are secure, and I want them to expand their horizons, they'll come here. And for you all, I'm planning on taking you there. Just not yet."
He looked around at them.
"Only when I know that taking you won't drop you in front of a tribulation you're not ready for," he continued. "When I've got a base there that's solid enough for you to stretch your legs without worrying about every random sect wanting to chop them off."
Tiamat snorted.
"You're assuming we'll sit here and wait patiently," she said.
He gave her a sideways look.
"You?" he said. "Absolutely not. You're going to hound me for details until I cave. Then you'll probably sneak through the first time I leave the door half open."
She didn't deny it.
Gabriel lifted a hand slightly, then folded it back in her lap.
"…I don't understand all of it," she admitted. "Parallel worlds, tribulations, external heavens… But I understand that you came back. And that you told us first thing."
"That's the part that matters," he said.
Asia nodded fiercely, fingers tight in his shirt.
"Then… then I'll work hard," she blurted. "So when you take us there, I won't slow you down."
"Same," Koneko said, simple and firm.
Le Fay pumped a small fist.
"I want to see other worlds with you, Ren," she said. "I'll study the travel art too!"
Seekvaira's eyes gleamed behind her glasses.
"If possible, I want access to the logic," she said. "I have theories about integrating parallel martial systems with ours."
Akeno smiled at them, eyes a little wet.
"Ara. Look at us," she murmured. "Already planning sightseeing in his new hunting grounds."
Rias took a long breath.
Then she let it out, slow.
"…You're still an idiot," she told him. "An infuriating, selfish, wonderful idiot. But you're our idiot."
"Best review I've had all week," he said.
Her lips twitched despite herself.
"…Just one thing."
"Mm?"
"If you're going to go… courting in another world," she said, eyes narrowing slightly, "we get to raise the stakes here too."
He blinked.
"Raise…?"
He didn't finish.
Rias hauled him down by the collar and kissed him.
Not the quick, teasing brush of lips they traded in hallways. A long, claiming kiss that said you are mine, and I am yours, and anyone who thinks otherwise can fight us both.
Akeno laughed against his other ear and leaned in from the side, stealing a kiss when Rias let him breathe for half a heartbeat.
Asia squeaked, face red to her ears, but after a brief internal war, she pressed a shy, burning kiss to his cheek.
Koneko, not to be outdone, leaned up and bit his jaw—more possessive than painful—then nuzzled the spot she'd marked.
Tiamat's hand tightened on his shoulder.
For a second, her eyes flashed full dragon—ancient, deep, jealous and fond.
Then she bent down and brushed her lips over the top of his head, a quiet, smoldering touch that tasted of storms over endless seas.
Gabriel clasped her hands and smiled like a blessing.
Le Fay and Seekvaira both looked away, ears red behind their hair, then failed completely and snuck quick glances back.
Ren let them.
He didn't flinch, didn't try to joke the intensity away.
He received every touch, every look, as solemnly as other men accepted oaths in temples.
When they finally let him have his mouth back, he smiled.
"Alright," he said softly. "Then let's make a deal."
Rias raised an eyebrow without moving from his arm.
"A deal?" she echoed.
"Yeah." He looked around at them, gaze steady. "I'll keep carving that path. I'll keep coming back. I'll be honest when my Dao pulls me toward someone new. No secrets, no excuses. In return…"
He lifted his hand, gesturing at them all.
"…you keep growing. Keep sharpening your own roads. When it's time to show that world what devils and angels and dragons and magicians can do, I want you beside me, not behind me."
Akeno's smile turned sharp.
"That sounds fun," she said.
Asia nodded, determination shining through lingering tears.
Koneko's tail flicked once, hard, like a punctuation mark.
Tiamat snorted.
"As if I'd let some martial artists look down on me," she muttered. "They'd be lucky if I only burned their mountains."
Le Fay's eyes all but sparkled at the thought of new magic systems to dissect.
Gabriel's light pulsed faintly, warmth in the air.
Seekvaira's fingers tightened on her tablet, calculating a dozen upgrade plans at once.
Rias squeezed his hand.
"…Deal," she said.
He pulled them all in closer with his presence if not his arms, his Heaven anchoring quietly around their Soul Palaces.
For the rest of the day, he made good on the other part of his promise.
He didn't vanish again. He didn't go shut himself in a room to meditate.
He stayed.
...
He cooked with Asia first.
The kitchen warmed quickly—actual heat from the stove, gentle light from Asia's healing aura as she fussed over his hands, and the low hum of Myriad Origin running under his skin.
"Careful," she said, catching his wrist as he reached for the pan. "You've been using your body too much today. The oil might splash."
Ren laughed.
"Asia," he said, "I just took a spear that could level a mountain to the chest. I think I can handle frying some chicken."
"That's different," she insisted, cheeks puffing. "Battles are battles. Hot oil is… hot oil."
Her brows furrowed adorably as she turned back to the cutting board, knife moving with careful precision.
He watched her for a moment—the way her demonic power and holy light flowed through her Soul Palaces in a smooth loop now, the way Twilight Healing sat in that inner world like a calm sun instead of a dangerous, uncontrolled miracle.
"You're getting faster," he said. "With the knife, I mean."
She blinked, then smiled, bright and a little shy.
"You said I should practice with my hands," she said. "That a healer shouldn't waste motion."
"Looks good," he said. "You're scary efficient now."
"Scary…?" She looked horrified for half a breath.
"In a good way," he added quickly. "Anyone who ends up under your care is going to walk out stronger than they went in."
Her shoulders relaxed.
She ducked her head, hair falling like a curtain as she turned back to the vegetables.
"…Then I'll work hard," she said quietly. "So when you come back hurt, I'll always be able to fix you."
The warmth in his chest had nothing to do with the stove.
"Plan is to not come back hurt," he said. "But yeah. I like that."
...
He sparred with Koneko and Issei in the courtyard next.
The training ground was one of the outer layers of his Heaven bleeding into reality—a space where formation lines hid in the flagstones, ready to catch stray blasts.
Issei bounced on his feet, red gauntlet already formed over his left arm.
"Two-on-one," Ren faintly smiled. "Come at me."
Koneko moved first.
Touki flared around her like white flame, Immutable Core holding it steady. Her footwork, once stiff and hesitant, was now clean, her steps digging into the ground as she closed the distance.
Her fist snapped toward his ribs, weight compacted behind the blow.
He shifted half a step and let her knuckles graze his side, just enough to make his body register the impact.
"Good line," he said. "You're not running from your own strength anymore."
Issei came in on the other side with a wild haymaker.
"Boost!"
Ddraig's voice echoed as power pulsed up his arm, muscles swelling under the armor. The punch was still a little sloppy, but the intent behind it was solid.
Ren caught his fist in one hand.
Myriad Origin kicked in automatically, recycling the shock that ran up his arm, folding it into his own circulation without thinking.
He twisted his wrist, redirecting Issei's momentum, and tapped Koneko's forehead lightly with his other hand as she came in for a follow-up.
"Careful," he said. "You're both telegraphing the second hit. Again."
They came again.
And again.
The courtyard rang with blows, Touki thudding against his forearms, Ddraig's Boosts stacking and dispersing, Koneko's senjutsu brushing against his presence and sliding off his Dao like water over stone.
By the time he called a stop, Issei was on his back staring at the sky, armor retracted, chest heaving. Koneko was bent forward, hands on her knees, sweat darkening her training clothes but eyes burning.
Ren looked down at them, amused.
"You two keep this up," he said, "and next time I might have to actually use my legs more."
Issei groaned and flopped an arm over his face.
"That's so unfair," he muttered. "I felt like I was punching a wall made of smug."
Koneko straightened slowly.
"…Thank you," she said.
"For what?" he asked.
"For… fighting me like I'm not fragile," she said. "It helps."
He reached out and ruffled her hair.
"Like I always tell you, you're not fragile," he said. "You're a walking piledriver. Own it."
Her tail flicked, pleased.
...
He spent an hour with Seekvaira and Le Fay at the dining table afterward, the surface completely buried under diagrams and notes.
"So the route isn't a straight tunnel through the Dimensional Gap," Seekvaira said, tapping her tablet. "It's… anchored to specific 'stars' in your Heaven that correspond to external worlds."
"More like… bookmarks," Ren said. "Once I've walked a road enough times, it leaves a groove. My Heaven remembers the groove. I stick a star on it so I don't get lost."
Le Fay stared at a diagram that looked like a cross between a magic circle and a subway map.
"…This looks like a nightmare," she muttered.
"Hey," Ren said. "Nightmares have their charm."
He leaned over the table, drawing a line between two sketched circles.
"Think of it this way," he said. "Biblical God left behind a bunch of half-finished highways. Infinity is raw endlessness. Great Red is all dreams and no structure. I just took their mess, stole what I liked, and reworked the rules into something that doesn't try to kill you on sight."
Seekvaira pinched the bridge of her nose.
"The part where you say things like 'I just took the mess the original creator of Heaven left behind' as if you are talking about refactoring bad code is very difficult to process," she said dryly.
"I don't know anything about code," Ren said cheerfully. "I just know when a system's clunky. And I really hate clunky."
Le Fay snorted despite herself.
"You talk like a lazy genius," she said. "It's very annoying."
"That's my brand," he said.
...
Rias claimed him for the evening as soon as the sun dipped below the horizon.
They curled up together on the couch, a normal human movie playing on the television. Some romantic comedy about office workers and misunderstandings flickered across the screen, the laugh track entirely unnecessary in a house like this.
Rias' head rested on his shoulder, crimson hair spilling over his chest like a blanket. Her demonic power moved quietly in her Soul Palaces, destruction looping and looping in refined patterns.
"You know," she said, not taking her eyes off the screen, "when I was a child, I used to think getting married would be the end of all my problems."
"Mm?" he hummed.
"Then I grew up," she said. "Found out about arranged marriages, political games, my brother being… my brother. And then you showed up, told my fiancé to sit down, blasted the rules, and asked me what I wanted." Her lips quirked. "Now I have more problems than ever."
"Regretting it?" he asked lightly.
She turned her head, looking up at him from under her lashes.
"What do you think?" she asked.
He met her gaze, smile small.
"I think you like being free more than you dislike the headaches that come with it," he said. "And I think you're at your best when your back's against a wall and you get to blow the wall up."
She huffed, but her eyes softened.
"…You're not wrong."
She shifted closer, curling her fingers into his shirt.
"When you go to that world," she said quietly, "and you see some girl with stubborn eyes and a narrow sky… and you decide you want to break her cage too… remember that you have someone here who broke hers because of you."
He reached up and brushed his thumb along her cheek.
"I remember," he said. "You're my proof that it's worth it."
She didn't answer.
She didn't need to.
She just pressed herself a little closer and kept watching the movie, as if the two lives—mundane couch, cosmic Dao—weren't contradictory at all.
...
Later, he found Akeno on the balcony.
The night air was cool, city lights spread out beneath them like a field of stars borrowed from someone else's sky. Akeno leaned against the railing, hair fluttering in the breeze, lightning lazily tracing shapes between her fingers.
"Thinking deep thoughts?" he asked, stepping up beside her.
"Ara. Maybe," she said, lips tilting. "Maybe I'm just enjoying the view."
He followed her gaze.
"Good view," he agreed. "Very pretty."
She glanced at him, amused.
"The city, Ren," she said.
"I know," he said. "Still true."
She laughed, tension easing a little from her shoulders.
Then she sobered.
"When you said 'life or death' back then," she said quietly, eyes on the night, "during the training with Vali… I realized I still… hesitate sometimes. Not in battle. Outside of it. With… myself."
Her fingers curled, lightning winking out.
"I'm still scared that if I fall too far into the 'fallen' side, I'll end up like my father," she said. "I know it's childish. I know you'd drag me back by the hair. But that fear is still there."
Ren leaned on the railing beside her, elbows propped, hands loosely clasped.
"You're allowed to be scared," he said. "Being scared just means you're paying attention."
She snorted.
"That's very you," she said. "Turning fear into a compliment."
"I'm a nice guy," he said. "Terrifying, but nice."
She laughed again, softer this time.
He reached out and took her free hand, turning it palm-up.
Under her skin, he could feel the faint, delicate lines of Heavenbreaker Circuit—a network of paths she'd etched into her own body, connecting devil power and fallen light into something that was hers.
"You're not going to become him," he said. "Because your True Self isn't running from either side. You're weaving them together. That's a very different road."
She looked at their joined hands, then up at him.
"Even if I get jealous?" she asked. "Even if I curse you in my heart for talking about new girls in another world?"
"Jealousy just means you care," he said. "If you stopped caring, I'd be worried."
She smiled, small and real.
"That's very unfair, you know," she said. "You make it hard to stay angry at you."
"Good," he said. "Because I plan on giving you plenty of reasons."
She rolled her eyes.
Then she leaned in, resting her head against his shoulder.
"Then I'll just have to make sure I'm irresistible," she murmured.
"You already are," he said.
Thunder hummed faintly under her skin, pleased.
...
Tiamat dragged him into the Dimensional Gap later.
She didn't ask.
She just grabbed his wrist, opened a hole in space with the casual authority of a Dragon King, and stepped through.
The Dimensional Gap greeted them with endless nothing—swirling colors, currents of raw possibility, the faint, distant echo of Great Red's dreaming presence somewhere far away.
Tiamat shifted into a partial dragon form, scales rippling along her arms and legs, wings unfurling in a spray of blue light. She took to the sky—if it could be called a sky here—with a single powerful beat of her wings.
Ren followed, not by sprouting wings, but by letting his Heaven overlay his body, gravity agreeing to ignore him for a while.
They flew in silence.
The Gap around them twisted and swirled, but Ren's travel art bent a clear corridor through it, keeping the chaos at arm's length.
After a while, Tiamat spoke.
"So," she said, voice echoing slightly in the void, "you met new dragons over there?"
"No dragons yet," he said. "Lots of proud young men with spears. Some scumbags. Some girls with eyes like they'd bite the heavens if you let them."
"Hmph," Tiamat said. "So, my competition is humans again. How boring."
He laughed.
"You're not in the same weight class as anyone," he said. "Don't worry about competition."
She went quiet for a few beats of her wings.
"…Do you plan to bring any of them here?" she asked finally.
"Eventually," he said.
"And when you do," she said slowly, "what are you going to tell them about us?"
He considered that.
"That this world is noisy," he said. "That dragons here are beautiful and terrifying. That my women are stronger than they look, and more dangerous than they realize. That they'll be in for a surprise if they want to test themselves against you."
Tiamat snorted.
"Good answer," she said.
They flew a little longer.
The motion, the wind-that-wasn't-wind, the empty sky-that-wasn't-sky slowly smoothed the tightness out of her aura.
At one point, she banked close and bumped his shoulder lightly with her wing.
"When you decide to bring us for world-hopping," she said, "you tell me first."
He glanced at her.
"That eager to come along?" he asked.
She clicked her tongue.
"We'll see if your little road can handle a Dragon King," she said.
"That sounds like a yes to me," he said.
She didn't deny it.
...
He went to bed that night with an armful of warm bodies.
Rias curled against his left side, hair spilling everywhere, hand resting over his heart. Akeno draped herself along his right, one leg hooked over his, fingers drawing slow circles on his chest. Asia tucked herself against his shoulder, breaths soft and even.
Koneko lay half on his stomach, small but solid weight like a content cat. Kuroka, who had returned sometime after hearing about his little jaunt, claimed a corner of the bed and his ankle, tail comfortably wrapped around it. Tiamat took the edge closest to the door like a dragon guarding her hoard, one wing draped over the blanket.
Their Soul Palaces ticked steadily around his Heaven, a constellation of inner worlds: crimson thrones, lightning arrays, twilight reliquaries, white stones, swirling dragon cores.
Ren lay there, eyes half-closed, listening.
His Dao Heart beat once more.
The rhythm held—deeper with the weight of Great Zhou, steadier with the warmth of Kuoh, wide enough to hold both skies at once.
Tomorrow, he would step back into Martial World's star and climb another mountain, break another spear, pry another path open.
He would do it knowing exactly what waited for him when he came home.