elz the witch feet

Abner drew his sword, and the blade glowed with searing intensity as a sheath of lightning enveloped it. Applying elemental energy to one’s weapon was basic magic, akin to dousing a blade in oil and lighting it on fire, but this was the next stage, the true combination of warrior and elemental magic, more like a white-hot sword pulled out of a forge. It reminded Noah of plasma weapons he had used in the past, capable of cutting through steel like butter, and Aithorn’s spear techniques.

She enjoyed even this feeling as her dad’s leg hair rubbed against her shaved legs. She wore only a night shirt and a pair of panties, so she got to experience the warmth and feeling all the way up to her thighs. She raised one of her legs up and over his own without even thinking, hoping to wrap around his big tree trunk like leg. Doing it as carefully as possible so as not to wake him, she tilted on her side and got her right leg over his being careful not to put too much weight on him. Sarah wriggled in delight at the feeling, a big hot and hairy leg that tickled her every time she moved, from the tips of her toes to the inside of her thighs.

After Cain’s fight, the seventh match proceeded without a hitch, and as always, Seraph stepped into the ring for the final battle of the round. Though his earlier wins had been desperate and narrow, the prince’s arrival brought a chorus of cheers from the audience. One might expect this noisy support to bolster his confidence and turn him back to how he was, but he remained humble, or perhaps ‘fearful’ would be a better word. Every win would plague him with doubts, doubts that he was really strong enough to have defeated his opponents. All of his accomplishments were surely due to plain luck, or maybe his enemies had been paid off to let him win.