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“Your loss to Bella does not undo everything you, Sophia, and Cyrilo have accomplished. The literature program you’ve established is a blessing for this world, and you and Sophia managed to take down a gold-ranked knight who was standing in the way of public education. That is no small feat. You’re too young to be focusing on your regrets, on what you couldn’t do. The story of the Bow Mistress is only just beginning. When the war against the Profane is over, they’ll sing songs and legends about you, about how you fought and saved this world. And your clash with Bella? That’ll be a good story for you to tell around the campfire.”

The two former brothers then charged towards each other and began their fight. Falco hurled punches with the skill of a trained boxer, every attack carrying the energy of a sledgehammer at full swing and relying on blocking with water for defense. Viktor replied with animal-like slashes, each finger capable of burning right through armor like it was cotton, and banking on his agility to avoid harm.

As like all the other times she spent a minute at least inhaling the scent of his crotch, but holding off on the usual tongue bath, she instead continued her climb. Her slim stomach and breasts slid along her father’s muscular and hairy chest until she was lying almost directly over him. He puffed away noisily under the tubes of his CPAP machine none the wiser, a frustrating device that prevented her from exploring his mouth as well.