marco diaz

Realizing he wasn’t getting anywhere, Roc took to the air, flying in loops over the arena. People in the audience shielded their eyes from the sun and pointed at him, trying to keep him in their sights as his speed grew. As he built up his acceleration, he channeled mana into his right leg, and a sheath of energy enveloped eagle talons. “Decisive Divebomb,” he cast, prompting a magic circle to appear around his ankle. Beast Art, the combination of shamanism and monk magic. When he fought Aithorn, he could only use basic mana enhancement on his attacks, but by honing his monk magic by fighting Seraph over and over, his training back in the Ashok Mountains had been fruitful, and he had reached the league of true beastman warriors.

“Uh…sure…Carol.” At that point I wasn’t thinking much of anything, concentrating as her slippery, soapy hand slid along my shaft and she pulled on the skin on my ball sack. Mrs. B.—Carol—got on her knees and came face-to-face with my throbbing dick, pink from the steamy shower. I thought she was going to blow me, but she had another surprise for me.

“I’m surrounded by the foolish and weak. At least you’re competent, Strauss. Helping you climb the ranks of advisors to back up my plans has been monumental. If only you could deal with Noah. Every time I even think about him, let alone hear his name, I struggle to contain my hatred, and perhaps it is traveling down the line of control. I can also sense Galvin’s terror widening the cracks in his psyche. Two decades of work and planning nearly ruined because of that vile snake. I was betting on Seraph to be one of the foundations of my war against the Profane, to plant him on the front line with Adwith Tarnas and have them rack up victories while Galvin received the people’s adoration, and now he’s just a shadow of his former self.