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He reached into his inner self, feeling his energy circulating through his system, and began upping the intensity. By increasing one’s energy flow like this, a magic user could gather their strength for a spell quicker and easier. The problem was that doing it wasted energy and resulted in fatigue. Before a race, a sprinter might hop up and down or jog in place to get their blood flowing faster, allowing them to reach their peak earlier, but if they did it too much, they might find themselves out of breath when they needed it.

One day she definitely knew the effect she had on me, even if she hadn’t before. I was writing an essay on The Grapes of Wrath and asked Mrs. B when she came by if a word was spelled correctly. She leaned over, her silky red hair brushing against my cheek and her breast lay against my left shoulder. My cock stiffened instantly—and uncomfortably. Without thinking, I reflexively reached down and maneuvered my throbbing dick into a more comfortable position. It did create a sizable tent pole in my pants that I tried to push down and hide, which only drew attention to my crotch. Mrs. B blushed noticeably, stood up while stifling a laugh and muttered an apology.

Alexis sighed. “I’ve lost fights before, plenty of times, as you can imagine. But Bella, that was something else. I failed, Noah. I failed to protect the Knight’s Sheath, my comrades, the king. I was knocked aside by a monster that defies the laws of nature. No matter how much I train, how much I struggle, what good is it when someone like Bella, who never fought a day in her life, can suddenly become an unholy demigod and crush us like we’re insects? How is that fair? Part of me did want to take part in the tournament, to show everyone, including myself, how strong I am. But… I was afraid I would instead be reminded of how weak I am.”