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Saimallah put on his headband, and Noah could see the strain of the magical binding, but it wasn’t what caused him to lower his head. It wasn’t enough to be called a bow, but the act showed evident respect and a revised impression. “Please proceed.”

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.

Sarah flopped down on the couch and started scrolling on her phone. She knew she should be doing her homework, or some after workout stretches but she was in a bad mood tonight and wasn’t about to do anything productive. All the girls in her volleyball team had spent practice gossiping about their boyfriends or the boys that they were into while Sarah just had to smile and listen. It wasn’t as if she wasn’t interested in those types of things, but she could do without the snide remarks they made about her being the only one without a boyfriend or even having a crush yet. She’d watched porn and masturbated, but with the way the other girls talked about guys and sex, she couldn’t understand the hype. Whatever itch it scratched for them just didn’t exist the same way for her.