el guante blanco puss in boots

He got back to his feet and charged recklessly at Reiss. Reiss sent another air blast, but Abner dodged, though he was once more sent flying by the second that came immediately after. To his credit, he got up faster this time and took off again in a serpentine pattern, avoiding the barrage of air blasts from Reiss. Even Noah had to be careful not to be hit. Fortunately, the barrier protecting the crowd was doing its job, and every spell sent towards the stands was blocked. Abner got in close and jumped into the air, about to cut down his opponent, but Reiss was faster, and roundhouse kicked him with an added burst of wind, knocking Abner into the distance.

Should he do it? Just forfeit the match? To admit before the crowd that their prince was too weak to fight back? After everything that had happened to him, he had no pride left, nothing to lose. Maybe it was better to accept his failure and resign himself to his shame. Lying on the ground, he raised his arm, about to surrender, but stopped, thinking back to a conversation he had with Tarnas. It was during the year of training, the two of them sitting around the campfire on an autumn night. Seraph was staring deep into the flames, into the light and warmth, but all he felt inside was cold darkness.

Her dad nodded, but he didn’t look convinced. He gently pinched her big toe and asked, “How about a deal? I give you massage if you go to bed right after, how does that sound?”