Power Level: 87,000
It had been a full year. A whole year since Issei had entered the Chamber of Spirit and Time.
"Are you ready, my disciple?" Gaburo asked, his calm voice cutting through the quiet of the chamber.
Issei turned to face his mentor. His body was lean and well-proportioned—strong, but not overly muscular. His hair had grown long, reaching past his shoulders, now tied neatly into a ponytail. His face was sharper, more defined, and his eyes burned with a clarity and focus they hadn't possessed a year ago.
Even his tail had grown longer, thick and bushy, now able to wrap neatly around his waist like a living belt.
"Yes, Sensei! I know this might sound weird, but... I'm going to miss this place. Thank you for everything. I've learned so much from you—and about myself too," Issei said, offering Gaburo a heartfelt smile.
"I'm glad to have had such an eager disciple," Gaburo said, smiling back.
Issei looked around the interior of the chamber. This place had been more than just a training ground—it was a sanctuary. A place where he had discovered a part of himself. This room would not merely be a timeless space; it was where he had found his truth, his desires, and the strength to pursue them.
[Are you ready, partner?] "Yes, Ddraig... I'm ready," Issei said, taking one last deep breath. He gave Gaburo a warm, grateful smile.
I'm not just that weak pervert anymore. I have power now.
With that thought burning in his chest, Issei stepped out of the Room of Spirit and Time.
Gaburo followed right behind him.
Standing there in their nightgowns were Greeta and Kirushia—thin silk hugging their bodies so tightly that their breasts looked ready to spill out at any second.
Issei's eyes widened. His face turned scarlet in an instant. A dangerous trickle of blood began to creep from his nose.
Oppai... nightgown oppai... bunny goddess oppai... demon beauty oppai... about to burst out...!
[Partner... we really gotta work on your self-control, huh?] Ddraig's deep, rumbling voice echoed inside Issei's mind, half-exasperated, half-amused. [What about changing? A new you? One that doesn't turn into a walking blood fountain the second he sees some silk and curves?]
Greeta sneered at Issei. "What are you looking at, mortal?"
She crossed her arms tightly, deliberately pushing her chest up. The thin silk of her nightgown strained and bounced noticeably with the motion, the fabric clinging in ways that made it impossible to ignore.
Issei's face turned a violent shade of red. His hand shot to the back of his head, scratching furiously as a big, goofy, embarrassed grin spread across his face.
"S-Sorry, Lady Greeta... you're just so beautiful," he stammered, voice cracking halfway through.
Greeta huffed, but the corner of her mouth twitched upward in something dangerously close to amusement. "Hmmph. At least you recognize true beauty when you see it, boy." She paused for dramatic effect, then added with mock generosity, "Fine. I'll overlook your staring... this once."
With that, she turned on her heel and started walking away, deliberately swaying her hips with exaggerated elegance. The nightgown slid and shifted against her curves in a way that screamed intentional teasing.
Heh. Teasing this boy is actually fun, she thought, ears twitching. Keep dreaming, mortal. Realize how far apart we are.
Issei's eyes were glued to her retreating figure—mostly locked on the hypnotic motion of her ass—until a sharp tug on his ear yanked him back to reality.
"Ouch!"
Gaburo had grabbed him firmly, expression flat and long-suffering.
"Focus, Issei," the Yardrat said calmly, though a faint sigh escaped him. "And control yourself. Sigh... The only thing I fear now is that you'll face a female opponent someday. Remember: self-control."
Issei winced, rubbing his ear. "Yeah... sorry, Master. It's just... hard to break old habits," he laughed sheepishly, scratching his head again.
Gaburo shook his head slowly, looking mildly exasperated. "Well, at least you have Ddraig-san to snap you out of this foolishness."
Kirushia, who had been watching the entire exchange with a delighted little smile, tilted her head curiously. "Ddraig-san?" she repeated, violet eyes sparkling with interest.
Greeta stopped mid-step and turned back around, one eyebrow elegantly arched. She folded her arms again—causing another distracting bounce—and looked at Issei expectantly. "Yes... Ddraig-san?" she echoed, voice laced with mocking curiosity. "Do explain, wolf boy."
Before Issei could say anything, a surge of power erupted from his arm. Crimson light burst outward as a red gauntlet formed around his hand, its surface etched with ancient patterns that pulsed like a living heartbeat.
The sudden pressure in the air made Greeta's eyes widen in genuine shock.
Kirushia, on the other hand, leaned forward slightly, intrigue flashing across her face.
A deep, thunderous voice echoed through the chamber—ancient, overwhelming, and absolute.
[Greetings.]
The very air seemed to vibrate.
[I am Ddraig—Heavenly Dragon of Domination. The Red Dragon Emperor.]
The gauntlet's gem flared, pulsing like a heartbeat. This was no ordinary artifact. The crimson gauntlet seemed alive, and Ddraig's voice reverberated through the chamber with ancient authority.
[Listen well, mortal and divine alike.]
Ddraig spoke plainly, without flourish:
[The supernatural world is shaped by three great factions: the Angels, the Devils, and the Fallen Angels.]
[For countless ages, they waged war. Heaven and Hell bled into one another. Skies burned. Pantheons crumbled. No side could claim total victory. Even immortals could not endure the cost.]
[Eventually, the fighting became unsustainable. Long ago, the three factions signed a ceasefire—a fragile truce born of mutual fear and exhaustion. Open war has ended, but hatred and mistrust linger.]
Issei and Gaburo already knew this history, thanks to Ddraigs tutelage.
[My partner, Issei Hyoudou, now carries the power to slay a god.]
[The Boosted Gear, in the hands of a capable wielder, is capable of killing deities. That is no exaggeration. It has done so before. It can do so again.]
The chamber fell silent.
The chamber went deathly silent.
Greeta's rabbit ears stiffened. Her violet eyes narrowed sharply. For the first time since Issei stepped out, genuine surprise flickered across her face—followed by cold calculation.
He can kill a god? she thought. This scrawny wolf pup... a threat? A future rival? Or simply the most entertaining toy I've found in centuries?
She didn't move. She didn't speak. But the air around her grew heavier, as if the Dark Goddess of Destruction was quietly reassessing the boy in front of her.
Kirushia froze. Her playful smile vanished. Violet eyes widened, but she quickly masked her shock with composure. This knowledge was not hers to bear—at least, not yet. The High Council would need to know. Her father, Zeno-sama—they would demand answers. Issei Hyoudou was no ordinary human.
She said nothing aloud. Her fingers twitched slightly at her side—the only sign of how deeply the revelation had shaken her.
Ddraig's voice rumbled one last time, quieter now, directed only at Issei.
[This is your burden now, partner. And your strength.]
The gauntlet dimmed. The pressure in the room eased.
But the silence that followed felt heavier than ever.
Greeta's gaze slid over Issei for just a moment—cool, assessing, barely lingering. It wasn't quite interest, not yet, but something close: a faint note of curiosity filed away in the back of her mind for later.
She turned away sharply, rabbit ears flicking once.
"Gaburo," she said without looking back, "let's go. I want a full report on the boy's progress."
She started walking, hips swaying with that same deliberate elegance. Halfway across the marble floor she paused, then stopped completely.
Without turning around she spoke again, voice flat and commanding.
"Boy."
Issei snapped to attention like a soldier.
"Every day after you finish whatever nonsense you humans call 'school,' you will come here. You will train with Kirushia. Understood?"
The order was absolute—no room for argument, no room for delay.
Issei swallowed hard, face still flushed from the earlier nosebleed. "Y-Yes, Greeta-sama!"
Greeta didn't acknowledge the answer. She simply resumed walking, the thin silk of her nightgown whispering against her skin with every step. The command hung in the air like a blade, sharp and final.
Gaburo gave Issei a final nod before turning to follow Lady Greeta. Issei nodded back, still catching his breath from the emotional exit.
Before he could even take two steps, soft, warm weight slammed into his back.
Strong arms wrapped around his torso from behind, trapping his own arms against two plush, heavy breasts that molded perfectly against him. The thin silk of Kirushia's nightgown did absolutely nothing to hide how full and firm they felt—soft, warm, and squishing hard against his back and biceps.
Issei knew that sensation way too well.
His face exploded red in an instant. A thin line of blood already threatened to drip from his nose.
Kirushia giggled low against his ear, hugging him tighter, deliberately pressing her chest harder into his arms until her breasts squished outward around his biceps.
"Come with me, Issei-kun~" she purred, voice thick with teasing. "Let me get you back home safe and sound."
She squeezed again, grinding her breasts against him in slow, shameless circles. Issei's knees nearly buckled.
"U-Um... y-yeah, s-sure," he choked out, voice high and cracking like a broken record.
Kirushia smiled wider, clearly loving every second of his meltdown. She slid her hands down his arms, then forward—palms gliding over his chest and abs, feeling the hard, earned muscle under his shirt.
"My, my..." she murmured, letting out a soft, hungry growl. "The little pup really did grow into a full-grown wolf."
Her fingers dug in just enough to trace the ridges of his abs, then slid lower, teasing along his waist as she kept her chest mashed against his back.
Issei couldn't speak anymore. His mind was pure mush—flooded with raw, filthy thoughts: her breasts squishing against him, the heat of her body, the way the silk slid over her skin, how easy it would be to turn around and—
He was stuttering like a broken engine, face tomato-red, blood trickling from one nostril while his brain short-circuited between "holy shit" and "don't nosebleed again, don't nosebleed again."
Kirushia just laughed softly, hugging him tighter, breasts flattening even more against him as she started walking—still glued to his back.
She clearly wasn't planning to let go anytime soon.
End of the chapter.