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The rest of the fourth round continued without issue. Foley held his own in a fight against a woman armed with two quarter staffs, relying on his tried-and-true method of putting up his defenses and waiting for his enemy to tire. For several minutes, she beat on his shields like she was playing the drums, but when she realized she couldn’t break through, she surrendered, able to walk out of the arena with some of her dignity intact. Not long after, Saimallah claimed victory in another one-sided beatdown against a church agent, never even touching his opponent. The round ended with Seraph narrowly defeating an axe wielder, due much in part to luck. The man was mighty and skilled with his weapon, but the fact remained that if Seraph still had his magic, he wouldn’t have even been a challenge. All of the prince’s victories were won by the skin of his teeth.

She once again bent down and wrapped her lips around his cock and started to suck. She wanted to drink her dad like a straw, but unfortunately there wasn’t much more to have just yet. Desperate for more of her father’s essence, she licked the tip with flicks of her tongue, then with long swirls, while suctioning the head. Her other hand squeezed the base of his cock harder, keeping it angled as close to her mouth as she could as it throbbed steadily with the beat of his heart. Small drips of precum started to form at head of his penis, but with a single swipe of her tongue they were gone. It wasn’t enough.

Noah continued punching the bag in her place. “Since when has it ever been fair? When I was in Handent, I fought a Profane who forced me to fake my death in order to escape, and another captured me like a fly in a web. In Welindar, the battle was lost because I failed to kill Kaisen before he could transform. This is the struggle of fighting against the Profane, the struggle of being outclassed and overpowered. In this war, surviving with just a bruised ego is victory enough. You stood up to that monster, you fought, you survived.