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A solid kick to Viktor’s balls brought him to the ground, but Noah wouldn’t let him go that easily. Several hard stomps pulverized the man’s legs, and then he seized his broken right arm and continued snapping the bones, along with his fingers. One might think the audience, having cheered through gruesome violence for fight after fight, would be overjoyed by this display of brutality, but it was the opposite. They were dead silent, feeling their earlier excitement wither with every pained howl, and when Noah twisted Viktor’s left arm until his broken bones tore through his flesh, many turned away, unable to watch anymore.

He pushed against the seal, using his mana to separate from his clone, but it was like he was buried in concrete. He couldn’t project his mana even a centimeter beyond his skin. It was even more difficult than performing his workout, but this was precisely what he wanted. Saimallah said that he and his fellow monks used these headbands to train their projection abilities, and there was no better way than this. As he struggled and strained, the seal began to give, ever so slightly, feeling less like concrete and more like rubber.

“Umph…geez…” Carol whispered. Her face was contorted in pain but she didn’t protest. “Keep going…aahhh! It’s okay. Go slow.” Her anus started to accept the thick head of my cock. My new favorite thing was watching a girl’s asshole spread as I push my cock inside. “Owowow!” Carol exclaimed. “It’s fine. Keep going. It hurts but it’s fine. Shit that thing is thick. Ooooohhhaawww!”