God of Milfs: The Gods Request Me To Make a Milf Harem - Chapter 884

Chapter 884: This Is Your Family, Little Ones
Under the Tree of Origin, now finally back to how it was—neither growing nor withering, its vast branches heavy with divine fruit and emarald leaves—the Festival of Birthright had begun again.

This time it was far grander, brighter, and more joyous than ever before.

The heavens themselves seemed to shimmer with excitement.

Celestial musicians played golden harps that spilled music like liquid light, and thousands of divine lights drifted through the air like glowing fireflies.

Stalls lined the gardens: one hosted dragons weaving ribbons of flame into the air for entertainment; another featured nymphs selling enchanted nectar that shimmered with stars; spirits of wind performed aerial dances; and mighty demons arm-wrestled in laughter while valkyries raced their spectral steeds through the skies.

Every realm—from infernal depths to heavenly peaks—had sent envoys to witness this day.

For this year’s festival wasn’t for one child alone, but for nine—the nine demi-god daughters of Kafka and his wives.

It had been exactly one year since their miraculous birth, and the day marked both their first birthday and the renewal of their divine bonds to the world.

But there was something even more astonishing about this festival: every single one of Kafka’s wives, though radiant and full of life was…

…once again pregnant.

Their bellies, round and glowing faintly with essence, marked the new generation soon to come.

The gods whispered in awe: the son of Vanitas had indeed inherited the charm and divine vigor of his title.

Among the laughter and music, Nina stood out first—her green hair flowing, her smile as bright as the emerald crown she wore.

Her rounded belly didn’t slow her in the slightest as she recounted a story to a small crowd of curious gods and warriors.

“…and then the beast lunged straight at us—fangs, claws, everything!”

She said, using both hands to gesture dramatically, nearly spilling her drink in the process, while the audience gasped and laughed.

“I swear, the ground was shaking like an earthquake. But Evangeline and I? Oh, we just looked at each other, nodded, and—BAM!—I hit it with my left hook while she went straight for the wings!”

The young demi-gods clapped and shouted in delight.

One asked with wide eyes. “You mean you fought that creature while pregnant?”

Nina grinned proudly, resting a hand on her stomach.

“Of course! Just because I’ve got a little goddess growing in here doesn’t mean I’m going soft. I’ve got to show my daughter how to be strong, right from the start!”

The crowd cheered again, one of the gods saying.

“You’re incredible, Lady Nina!”

“Tell me something I don’t know!” She replied with a wink, before laughing along with them.

Not far away, Camila stood behind a large celestial grill surrounded by several goddesses and demi-gods, the air rich with the scent of sizzling meat.

Her movements were elegant and effortless, her wavy hair tied neatly behind her, her own belly curved gracefully beneath her apron.

“Now, the secret…” She said, flipping a skewer of glowing phoenix meat. “…is to listen to the sizzle. It tells you when the flavor’s right.”

A young spirit tilted her head. “Listen to it?”

“Yes.” Camila smiled knowingly. “When the juices start whispering instead of hissing—that’s when the fat is melting into the meat perfectly. That’s when you turn it.”

The little spirit leaned closer, listening with fascination. “Oh! I think I hear it!”

“Good ear.” Camila praised. “Now baste it with honey flame—lightly, gently, don’t drown it.”

As the crowd around her murmured in admiration, one of the gods chuckled.

“Even while carrying a child, you’re still the finest cook in all the realms.”

Camila laughed softly.

“Well, a women must eat well if she’s to raise strong children. Besides…” She said with a wink. “…my husband has quite the appetite himself and I can’t leave him hungry.”

A wave of laughter rolled through the group as the aroma of her cooking drifted far across the garden.

Meanwhile, near the sparring grounds where erratic energy hummed through the air, Seraphina stood face to face with a tall, muscular goddess whose skin gleamed like polished bronze and who carried a massive sword strapped to her back.

Despite her own pregnant belly pressing softly against her robes, Seraphina moved with the same poise as ever, a slender dagger twirling between her fingers.

“No, not like that.” Seraphina said firmly. “Your stance is too rigid. Loosen your shoulders—feel the weight flow, not fight against it.”

The warrior goddess frowned, adjusting her footing.

“Like this?”

Seraphina stepped forward, gently but confidently shifting the goddess’s elbow into place.

“Better. Now pivot your wrist slightly when you strike—it’ll let you redirect an opponent’s blade instead of meeting it head-on.”

The goddess tried again, the dagger and sword clashing lightly with a clean metallic ring.

“Good. See?” Seraphina smiled approvingly. “Efficiency over strength. Accuracy wins battles, not brute force.”

The other goddess laughed softly, brushing a strand of hair back.

“Even while carrying a child, you move like lightning, Lady Seraphina. You still can showcase your marvelous skills. I bet you could even battle me right now and win.”

“Maybe.” Seraphina chuckled quietly, resting a hand over her belly. “But for now, I’d rather teach than fight. Let my little one hear the sound of combat before she ever holds a blade herself.”

The warrior nodded in awe and just a few steps away from Seraphina’s sparring grounds, the sound of laughter and loud clinking glasses echoed from another corner of the garden—and of course, at the center of that noise was Lyra being as social as ever.

She was sitting comfortably on a large picnic blanket surrounded by musicians and several young demi-gods, her golden-pink hair braided in loops that glittered under the light.

Her own round belly peeked through her light gown, which she wore proudly as she leaned back and sipped on a sparkling drink.

One of the demigods, wide-eyed and barely out of her youth, was listening eagerly as she gestured animatedly.

“And then…” Lyra said dramatically. “…she looked right at me and said, ‘That’s too big to be a tomato,’ and I said, ‘Of course it’s to big! It’s a pumpkin after all!'”

Everyone burst into laughter.

A goddess beside her shook her head, smiling.

“Lady Lyra, I swear, you’ve you could charm even the stars themselves if you tried.”

“Who says I haven’t already?” Lyra winked, raising her glass. “The sun owes me a favor, and the moon still sends me flowers!”

The crowd laughed again, and one demi-god asked curiously.

“How are you feeling though? Carrying again so soon?”

Lyra grinned, rubbing her belly fondly.

“Honestly? It’s heavy, sure, but…I don’t mind. My little one inside here must already love parties as much as I do—she’s been kicking to the rhythm of the drums all day!”

Right on cue, a gentle bump pressed against her palm, and everyone gasped and cooed. Lyra giggled proudly.

“See? She’s wants to dance already. Takes after her father, I suppose.”

The group laughed, but their attention soon shifted as a wave of ethereal melody floated through the air—a voice so enchanting it made even the gods pause.

At the far end of the courtyard, standing under a shower of glowing petals, was Bella, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders like liquid light.

Her belly was just as round as the others, but that didn’t stop her from standing gracefully, one hand resting over her abdomen as she sang a divine lullaby.

Her voice shimmered like crystal—soft, serene, utterly mesmerizing. It wasn’t just a song; it was a blessing. Every note carried warmth, love, and an unspoken peace that washed over everyone present. Even the winds stilled to listen.

When she finally finished, applause erupted across the garden. Gods, mortals, and spirits alike cheered, their hearts glowing with joy.

Bella laughed softly, embarrassed by the praise, her cheeks faintly flushed.

“Oh, stop it, stop it…You’ll make me cry!” She said with a gentle laugh. “And that’s not good for the baby!”

A group of nymphs fluttered over, giggling.

“Lady Bella, your voice could calm the entire universe!”

Bella chuckled.

“Oh, I just wanted to sing something for the little ones—both the ones here and the ones still waiting to arrive.” She placed her hand on her belly, smiling softly. “Music is love, after all. And if they grow up surrounded by it, they’ll never be lonely.”

Her words that were rather mature from her usual self left the air warm and full of affection—and from a distance, Lyra shouted.

“Bella, that was amazing! You’re stealing the spotlight again!”

Bella waved with a teasing smile.

“Oh, hush, says the one who’s surrounded by half the people here!”

Their friendly banter drew laughter all around.

And not far from her, another small crowd had gathered—this time around June, who was standing proudly in the midst of several mature goddesses, all of them eyeing her outfit with genuine awe.

With a playful flick of her wrist, she pointed toward the layered fabric at her waist.

“See this cut right here?” She explained, tracing the curve of her dress. “It lets the fabric drape without sticking to the belly, so it’s comfortable and flattering. You can glow and breathe at the same time—revolutionary, I know.”

One of the older goddesses, with silver hair and an air of authority, nodded seriously.

“That’s ingenious…I never thought about designing maternity attire with that level of grace. Mine always feel so restrictive.”

Another goddess leaned closer, her eyes sparkling.

“Lady June, did you design this yourself?”

June grinned proudly.

“Of course I did. Every goddess here deserves to look beautiful—especially when she’s carrying life inside her. I specialize in dresses made for women who refuse to stop shining just because they’re expecting.”

Her audience gasped and murmured with delight.

A tall goddess in violet robes clasped her hands together. “Would you…make one for me as well?”

Then another chimed in with a teasing smile. “I’d almost wish to be pregnant again just to wear one of your dresses!”

June laughed joyfully, covering her mouth.

“Well, that might be the sweetest compliment I’ve ever heard! Don’t tempt me to start a full celestial boutique just for maternal wear!”

A few of the goddesses giggled, one of them saying. “Oh, please do! You’d have a line reaching all the way to the seventh realm!”

“Oh, you flatter me far too much!” June blushed at the praise but lifted her chin proudly. “But fine, fine, I’ll make one for you all—but only if you promise not to tell my husband I’m still working while I’m supposed to be resting!”

The group applauded, their admiration genuine—and as June twirled gently, her gown showing of her baby bump in the most beautiful manner.

Meanwhile, at the far edge of the festival, where the heavenly breeze drifted through fields of silver lilies, Olivia stood near a archway.

She was glowing, as always. Her pregnant belly peeked gently through her flowing dress. Yet for all her serenity, the sight before her was…quite unusual.

There was an entire line of little girls, spirits and elves alike—giggling, whispering, and bouncing in place—waiting for their turn to hug her.

It had all started innocently enough.

A few minutes earlier, a little girl, maybe no older than five, had shyly tugged on Olivia’s dress and asked in a tiny voice.

“Lady Olivia…can I have a hug?”

Olivia blinked, surprised but quickly smiling warmly.

“Of course, little one.”

She knelt down and wrapped her arms around the girl, giving her a soft, gentle hug—the kind only Olivia could give, full of warmth and motherly affection.

But as soon as the little girl was enveloped in her embrace, she froze for a second, her face squishing softly against Olivia’s chest.

And then—

The child looked up in pure wonder.

“Wow! Lady Olivia, your chest is so big and soft! It’s like a giant pillow!”

Olivia blinked, her cheeks instantly going bright red. “O-oh! Um, thank you—”

But before she could say anything else, the girl ran off shouting to her friends.

“You guys have to try it! It’s sooo soft! Way softer than my mommy’s!”

Within moments, the damage was done. Every little girl in the area turned toward Olivia with wide, fascinated eyes.

And now, somehow, she had a whole line of children waiting, each wanting a hug.

“Alright, one at a time.” Olivia said nervously, her voice gentle but flustered as the first child ran up to her with open arms.

She hugged each of them tenderly, trying to keep her composure as the children giggled and commented cheerfully.

One girl pressed her cheek against Olivia and gasped. “It’s true! It’s softer than clouds!”

Another girl, eyes wide, said, “My mommy’s chest isn’t even close to this big!”

From somewhere behind, a mother’s voice shouted. “What did you just say?!”

The girl panicked immediately, looking back in fear. “Ah! Lady Olivia, help me!”

Olivia blinked, caught in the middle of this growing mess, then smiled softly despite herself and patted his head.

“It’s alright. I’ll protect you.”

A few goddesses nearby were trying—and failing not to laugh.

“Oh dear.” Olivia sighed softly between hugs, her cheeks still rosy. “I suppose I brought this upon myself…”

But even through her flustered embarrassment, her heart was full.

The children’s laughter, their joy, their little hands clinging to her—it all reminded her of what she cherished most.

So she kept hugging them, one by one, whispering gentle blessings into each child’s ear as they giggled in delight.

And finally, near the large golden fountain at the heart of the festival, a much calmer but equally warm scene unfolded.

Abigaille sat in a shaded pavilion, surrounded by a small group of children who were listening intently as she read from a glowing storybook.

Her long auburn hair was tied loosely, and her glowing belly was covered by a light robe of silk.

Her voice was gentle and full of warmth as she read. “And then, the little comet said, ‘Even if I fall, I’ll still shine, because that’s what comet do!'”

The children gasped and clapped, and one of them tugged on her sleeve.

“Lady Abigaille, is that a true story?”

She smiled softly, closing the book.

“Every story is true, in its own way.” She said, patting the child’s head. “Because every story teaches us how to be brave and that’s the most real thing of all.”

One of the older children pointed at her belly curiously.

“Then, is there another story in there, Lady Abigaille?”

Abigaille blinked, then laughed warmly.

“Oh, there absolutely is. Two, actually!” She said proudly. “And I think they’ll write their own beautiful stories one day.”

It was no secret anymore—after the ‘twin surprise’ from last time, everyone had made absolutely sure to check every womb twice.

And yet, somehow, Abigaille had done it again.

She was carrying twins.

Again.

Nina had jokingly called her a ‘twin-making machine and even Seraphina had cracked a smile at that.

But Abigaille didn’t mind the teasing in the slightest. She only laughed with them, hand always resting on her belly, as if protecting and adoring the two new little souls inside.

And now, as she sat beneath the shaded pavilion, surrounded by laughing children and drifting petals, she looked around and felt her heart swell.

Camila was still tending her grill, chatting proudly with passing gods. Nina was recounting her latest adventure story, voice full of energy and mischief. Lyra had gathered a small crowd with her sparkling charm, Bella’s song still lingered in the air like perfume, Seraphina was still teaching dagger techniques, while June talked about embroidery.

And Olivia—poor, gentle Olivia—was being mobbed again by giggling kids who insisted her hugs were better than clouds.

Even from here, Abigaille could see the warm smiles, the glances of affection, the laughter shared among them.

It was the picture of a family that had gone through everything together—and somehow, miraculously, had come out shining.

Abigaille pressed her hand once more to her belly, whispering softly.

“You hear that, my little ones? That’s your family out there…loud, silly, and perfect.”

The babies kicked again as if answering her.

She laughed quietly, her eyes glimmering.

“Yes, yes, I know…you’re excited to meet them, too.”

The breeze carried the laughter of her family through the air, mingling with the soft music of the festival.

In that moment, surrounded by light, love, and the gentle pulse of new life within her, Abigaille realized there was nothing more she could possibly wish for.