Elara let out a haughty sniff, a sound that was equal parts disdain and affection. Before Pallas could even formulate a retort, space folded around her. With a soft pop of displaced air, she blinked out of existence.
Her personal guard, a unit of elite agile warriors, vanished a split second later, struggling to keep pace with their mistress's teleportation.
"Your Highness... are you alright?"
Only after the terrifying princess was gone did Pallas's own guards and the succubus maidservants dare to enter the arena. They swarmed around him, fussing over the welts and bruises covering his massive frame.
"I'm fine," Pallas grunted, waving them off. He sat up, shaking out his shoulders. "She plays rough, but she doesn't aim to maim. They're just flesh wounds."
"It doesn't hurt anymore," he added, flexing his arm.
Steam rose from his skin as the heavy regeneration factor of his [Titan Bloodline] kicked in. The purple bruises faded to yellow and then vanished entirely within seconds.
