Twelve months had passed since Ethan's arrival in Elysara.
The world had transformed around him. Three hundred women now carried his daughters—bellies of every size and shape glowing with the faint silver light of quickened life. Villages swelled with celebration, songs of the Breeder echoing from the Aether Spires to the deepest valleys.
But in the grand pavilion of Aeloria, a shadow had fallen.
Ethan lay on the vast silk bed, surrounded by concerned faces. For three days now, no matter how many eager women presented themselves—sky dancers grinding their slick pussies against his thigh, curvaceous villagers riding him with desperate moans—his climaxes had been dry. Thick, powerful thrusts ended in shuddering pleasure, but no seed spilled. His balls ached, heavy yet empty.
The healers confirmed it: a mysterious drought of fertility. His body, pushed beyond mortal limits for a full year of near-constant breeding, had reached exhaustion. The magic that sustained him needed renewal.
Vaeloria knelt at his side, silver hair spilling over her massive bare tits, sapphire eyes filled with worry. "We will fix this, my love. Whatever it takes."
Thora and Brynja, their own pregnancies now far along, stood guard with grim determination.
Then the doors opened, and three familiar figures entered—Elara, Liora, and Sylva, the very first women he had met in that fateful meadow.
Their bodies had changed gloriously.
Elara's golden hair framed a face radiant with motherhood, her once-slender frame now lush with curves—breasts heavy and full, belly rounded beautifully with twins.
Liora, auburn locks longer and wilder, carried a single daughter high and proud, her hips wider, tits swollen with milk that already beaded at her nipples.
Sylva, silver hair matching Vaeloria's in shine, cradled her own swollen belly—her lithe form softened into fertile perfection.
They approached the bed together, eyes shining with love and concern.
"We heard," Elara said softly, climbing onto the bed to press her pregnant belly against his side. "Our daughters kicked when the news reached us. They know their father needs strength."
Liora took his hand, placing it on her warm curve. "You gave us life. Now we give you ours—our belief, our love."
Sylva leaned in, kissing him deeply. "The Lake of Fertility calls you. Only its waters can restore what you've given so freely."
The ancient texts were clear: deep in the Whispering Woods lay a hidden lake, fed by the purest essence of Lyris herself. Its waters renewed the Breeder's gift—but only if he entered alone. No woman could accompany him; the magic demanded solitude.
Ethan rose the next dawn, kissing each pregnant woman goodbye—Elara, Liora, Sylva, Vaeloria, and dozens more who lined the path, bellies of every size glowing in support.
The journey took three days, guided by instinct and faint silver light. The woods grew denser, older, until he reached a clearing bathed in moonlight despite the day.
The Lake of Fertility stretched before him—crystal clear, steaming gently, surrounded by flowers that bloomed only for him.
He stripped and stepped in.
The water was warm, alive—caressing his skin like a lover's touch. It flowed around his cock, into his balls, soothing the ache. Energy surged through him—silver light pulsing beneath the surface, filling the emptiness.
He floated for hours, letting the magic work. Memories flashed: every pussy he'd filled, every moan, every gush of cum deep inside fertile wombs. The lake drank his exhaustion and gave back power tenfold.
When he emerged at dusk, water streaming from his body, his balls felt heavy again—full, potent, ready.
The drought was over.
Word spread faster than his return journey. By the time he reached Aeloria, the pavilion was packed—hundreds of women waiting, pregnant and hopeful alike.
Vaeloria met him at the entrance, silver eyes blazing with need after months of restraint.
But first, the original three—Elara, Liora, Sylva—claimed him together on the central bed, their pregnant bodies pressing close as they rode him in turn, pussies slick and eager.
When he came inside Elara first—thick, hot ropes flooding her already-pregnant womb—she cried out in joy, feeling the renewed power.
Liora and Sylva followed, each climax stronger than the last, cum overflowing as the lake's gift proved itself.
Three hundred pregnancies, and counting.
The Breeder was restored.
And Elysara's future burned brighter than ever.