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He reached into his inner self, feeling his energy circulating through his system, and began upping the intensity. By increasing one’s energy flow like this, a magic user could gather their strength for a spell quicker and easier. The problem was that doing it wasted energy and resulted in fatigue. Before a race, a sprinter might hop up and down or jog in place to get their blood flowing faster, allowing them to reach their peak earlier, but if they did it too much, they might find themselves out of breath when they needed it.

I'd love to be used like this pumped out to ugly men and monsters to use taking their loads as my master gets payed.

Roc was narrowly holding his own, but he realized the battle couldn’t be decided on the ground. He pulled away from Ingram and flapped his wings, taking to the sky with his nemesis chasing after him. They flew laps around the arena, colliding and exchanging blows in midair. The audience raised their eyes and fingers to the sky, watching the airborne battle in shock and awe. Both feathers and blood were shed with each collision, with talons ripping through flesh and punches landing with devastating force. Over and over, it seemed like they would crash into the stands, but by some miracle, they stayed in the air. Higher, they rose, taking their battle above the arena. The tournament no longer mattered, only the battle, and there were no edges in the sky.