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Sarah swallowed; her mouth suddenly dry with nervousness. She was sweating from the strain of holding herself in place, but that sudden slickness gave her an idea. Easing her pressure on the bed her body weight now mostly fell on her father, her breasts crushed against his chest. Pushing forward with her hands her body slipped an inch down her father, and that inch translated to an inch down below. It was more sudden than she intended, her father’s tip pushed fast and hard past her lips and into her dripping pussy. She moaned in ecstasy, unable to hold it in. She could feel him inside her now, stretching her opening and with it, feel the beat of his heart in her most sensitive place. She was on fire.

“Cardinal Phelps! It was Cardinal Phelps! He ordered me to kill you! It’s as you say, because of Seraph and the Knight’s Sheath. Do you have any idea how much damage you caused this country and the church with your sins? Uther was mighty, with a bright future! Then you came along, sowing seeds of discord, driving a wedge between the kingdom and the gods, and crippling our savior! Had you stayed in exile, you would have been left alone, but you being here now will bring nothing but trouble!”

His movements slowed, and his water magic flickered like a candle at the end of its wick. Regardless, he powered through, and after several minutes of relentless combat, he delivered a critical blow, punching Viktor in the chin and sending his brain rattling around in his skull. He staggered back, using what little mental capacity he retained to stay upright, while Falco hobbled over, his strength fading. He and everyone else simply assumed his condition was due to fatigue.