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Noah started with one finger, sending his mana surging through the muscle fibers, and soon could lift it. He could still feel the headband trying to restrict him, but now he could push back. He did the same to his other fingers, soon gaining full control of his hand. The effort required was considerable, but this manner of controlling his mana was not dissimilar to how he could control his clone. Rather than something he would wear like a disguise, he simply had to think of his clone as something that existed within him, under his skin.

She finished sucking on the other nut, letting the ball drop back into place gently guiding it with her tongue. Sarah leaned back down and sucked the excess drool about to drip off the bottom of his sack. She stared down at his balls, glistening with her saliva in the moonlight like a freshly polished car. Well, she thought, she had given them a good wash. She had only meant to give them a quick taste, but she’d done everything she secretly wanted to do when she was tossing and turning in her bed last night. Well… almost everything.

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.