accord drakengard

Ohmigawd!~ I'm like, so totes frustrated right now I could just like, suck some guy's cock!~ I'm supposed to suck dick, not like, protect the law and stuff!~Whay the fuck~Like, ohmigawd! What did you totally, like, do to me?! I look like a totes dumb bimbo! Not to, like, mention these totally huge jugs and how, like, my outfit totally turned totes slutty and stuff! And I, like, can’t stop speaking like a, like, dumb bimbo airhead?! Please, like, turn me back and stuff~!

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.

He pushed against the seal, using his mana to separate from his clone, but it was like he was buried in concrete. He couldn’t project his mana even a centimeter beyond his skin. It was even more difficult than performing his workout, but this was precisely what he wanted. Saimallah said that he and his fellow monks used these headbands to train their projection abilities, and there was no better way than this. As he struggled and strained, the seal began to give, ever so slightly, feeling less like concrete and more like rubber.