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She enjoyed even this feeling as her dad’s leg hair rubbed against her shaved legs. She wore only a night shirt and a pair of panties, so she got to experience the warmth and feeling all the way up to her thighs. She raised one of her legs up and over his own without even thinking, hoping to wrap around his big tree trunk like leg. Doing it as carefully as possible so as not to wake him, she tilted on her side and got her right leg over his being careful not to put too much weight on him. Sarah wriggled in delight at the feeling, a big hot and hairy leg that tickled her every time she moved, from the tips of her toes to the inside of her thighs.

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.

“She figured it out on her own. Or rather, she simply didn’t believe Cyrilo’s story. She’s keeping quiet because she doesn’t want me and Cyrilo to get in trouble. It’s not fair to her, to have to bear this sin with us. Honestly, I’m no different. I’m grateful to Cyrilo for everything she’s done for Alexis and me, and without her, our literature program has no future. Our dream is to change the world by granting everyone the gift of knowledge, but is noble sentiment enough to make up for what we did? Is it wrong for me to protect her? To protect myself? To escape punishment under the excuse that we’re trying to make a better world?”