Sizki's hand moved rhythmically, each motion sharp and distinct, impossible to ignore.
The warm, slick sensation slipping back and forth through her palm only made her more aware of Ryuji's heartbeat—and of the twitching pulse in what she was holding.
Why do I have to be doing this?!
She asked herself the same question again. But the truth was, things had already gone this far. To stop now would feel like betraying her own resolve.
So she continued, hand gliding back and forth. And yet, something inside her was beginning to stir, slowly taking root. Alongside the faint irritation, her thoughts began to scatter in dangerous directions.
Sizki was still pure in body, untouched by any man. But her life as an adventurer had broadened her horizons; she understood, at least in theory, how things between men and women developed.
And now, staring at the tip of his dick which was so much larger than her own thumb, feeling its heat and restless throbs, she couldn't help but wonder—
Could something like this… really fit inside a person?
She belongs to a faction that had always stressed self-control and discipline, a path of ascetic training. It wasn't that marriage or childbirth were forbidden, but one was expected to focus wholeheartedly on the task at hand. No distractions in training, no indulgence during special training.
She had always followed those rules faithfully. But what exactly were temptation and desire? Until this moment, she had never truly understood.
Sure, while bathing she might touch herself occasionally, but that was nothing—never something requiring conscious restraint.
But now…
"Why… why do I feel this way even though nothing is touching me down there…?"
Her body was betraying her.
Her lower half had begun to stir with strange sensations, just like those fleeting moments in the bath when her hand would accidentally brush too low.
And now that unfamiliar warmth was spreading through her body, radiating outward from her pussy. The thing she gripped only fed those strange feelings further, while the scent clinging to it made her heart twist in ways she didn't understand.
It wasn't a pleasant smell, not exactly. Bitter, sharp, almost unclean. And yet… the more it unsettled her, the more her attention was drawn to it. Her pace slowed unconsciously.
"Damn it… I can't let this drag on. I need to finish it quickly!"
Biting down on her lip, Sizki glared at Ryuji, who looked far too pleased with himself.
"How much longer?" she demanded.
She didn't know all the details, but surely most men should have finished by now.
It had been nearly ten minutes—and Ryuji still hadn't released a thing.
That couldn't be normal!
"Well, I'm a little different from most," Ryuji replied with seriousness.
"Without the help of breasts or… other stimulation, it's hard for me to—ow, ow!"
He hadn't even finished before Sizki snapped. She squeezed hard, pressing her thumb mercilessly against the tip. Her face darkened.
At last, she understood. All of Ryuji's earlier antics—the leg-hugging, the begging—had been nothing but a ploy.
He had set her up from the start, leading her right into his trap.
"You bastard… you've been toying with me, haven't you?"
Her expression was stormy, and she felt like a complete fool.
Ryuji only gave a helpless shrug.
"Tch… so you finally figured it out?"
Sizki felt a surge of fury boiling in her chest, her fingers twitching with the urge to the thing in her hand. But before she could even voice her anger, Ryuji seized the moment—grabbing her chin and silencing her with a sudden, dominating kiss.
Caught off guard, Sizki instinctively released her grip on his dick and tried to shove him away. But he'd already planned for this. With a single, deep inhale, he stole the breath from her lungs, pressing her down onto the grass as his tongue invaded her mouth with practiced precision.
Panic flashed through her. She struggled, but it was useless—her strength was no match for his now. Even her weighted armbands, which could have subdued him with a command, were rendered useless now—without speaking the activation phrase, she couldn't trigger them. She was trapped, unable to fight back.
And Ryuji's hands were far from idle. The moment her back hit the ground, one pinned her wrists above her head while the other slipped beneath her skintight suit, roughly kneading her breast and teasing the soft mound and mercilessly flicking the budding tip.
Her eyes widened in shock. She'd known Ryuji was lustful, known he was in a state of uncontrollable desire—had even braced herself for the possibility of him losing control. But she hadn't expected him to suddenly seize her like this.
She tried to kick, but his weight immobilized her legs. In this position, resistance was impossible. All she could do was endure his kiss, his touch—
—and the awful truth was, part of her body was beginning to… enjoy it.
Her mind screamed in protest, but her body betrayed her. Even as her chest ached under his rough handling, even as his fingers pressed so hard through her suit that it hurt—her body begged for more. The pain melted into something intoxicating.
A throbbing heat pooled between her thighs. What had been a faint discomfort had transformed into something else entirely: tingling, heat, a flowing warmth that demanded release. Her mind conjured unbearable thoughts—that perhaps what she once held in her hands should be pushed inside her, that maybe she even longed for the tearing pain it might bring.
She knew why this was happening. Years of strict discipline, of suppressing every desire, had piled up inside her like powder waiting for a spark. If Ryuji hadn't appeared… if he hadn't spoken so brazenly of his lust… if he weren't so strong she couldn't resist… she could have kept the fire from ever igniting.
But now it was too late.
The heat spread. The teasing on her chest, the stolen air in her lungs, the helplessness and fear—all of it crashed together into a tidal wave.
Her body arched violently, straining like a fish gasping on land, breaking some of his hold for just an instant—
—and then it happened.
Her shorts dampened in a rush, the grass beneath her soaking through with a new, pungent scent. Steam rose faintly into the night air. Her as her back arched violently, her body convulsing in a climax she hadn't consented to.
Something inside her had burst, pouring out, leaving her body trembling and strangely empty. A wave of release swept through her, loosening every muscle. Pleasure—raw, terrifying, overwhelming—flooded her.
Ryuji finally pulled back, letting her go.
But Sizki didn't attack him. She didn't scream. Tears welled at the corners of her eyes, her expression twisted in shock, yet her mind was utterly blank.
It wasn't just because of the sudden orgasm—it was the sheer disbelief.
Her chest heaved, lips swollen and parted from his kiss, drawing ragged breaths. Even though Ryuji was no longer pressing down, she remained pinned by the aftershocks, her body still thrumming with lingering pleasure.
And as her breathing slowly steadied, the high ebbed away, leaving her clarity to return, piece by piece.
But still, she didn't move. She couldn't.
Because deep down, she knew the truth.
Her body was still savoring the aftermath… and already yearning for more. It was ready—aching—for the next wave, for something even rougher, even more overwhelming.
Even if her mind wasn't prepared… her body had crossed a line, and there was no going back, her body had already surrendered.
Sizki could not deny it.
That intoxicating sensation—the one Seria had once described with such obsession—she had now experienced it herself.
And the most humiliating part was that it hadn't even required Ryuji to truly claim her body. He had done nothing more than push her limits, tease her mercilessly… and yet her body had already shattered in pleasure, reaching that forbidden peak she had always believed she could resist.
It made her feel wretched. Weak. Disgusted at herself. Her own body had betrayed her.
Almost in disbelief, she pressed a trembling hand against her chest, where his rough grasp still left a dull ache. And yet—even through the soreness—her body longed for more of it.
Her thighs still quivered, the heat between them refusing to fade, aching in desperate anticipation for the real thing to finally come.
Her mind screamed in protest. Her willpower burned with denial. But her body… her body yearned for him.
Conflicted, she looked up at Ryuji—only to blink in shock.
He wasn't pressing forward. He wasn't undressing her further.
Instead, he had pulled his pants back up, that iron hardness still visible beneath the fabric… and yet his expression was one of satisfaction, almost calm.
"You… why did you stop?" Sizki's voice trembled.
It didn't make sense. She had been at her weakest—her defenses shattered, her body already yielding. If he had chosen to strip away the last of her resistance, she wouldn't have been able to stop him. Perhaps she would have even… let him.
That truth cut her more deeply than any blade. It meant she wasn't truly in control of herself at all.
"Because your body was already suppressed to such an extreme degree... yet you had no idea."
Ryuji shrugged, his tone disarmingly casual.
"To be honest, I never actually planned to have sex with you from the beginning. All I wanted was to grope your breasts a little—but you were so serious about it that I ended up going little too far."
He had sensed Sizki's physical readiness the moment he touched her, which was why he'd pushed forward. But to his surprise, her mind hadn't been prepared at all. That was why he'd stopped after bringing her to orgasm once, resisting the temptation to go further.
After all, if all he wanted was a beautiful body, there were countless ways to obtain one. But the heart? That was far harder to conquer.
His words made her flush with confusion and anger.
He had stopped? Out of choice?
Sizki bit her lip, lowering her gaze, unable to summon the outrage she knew she should feel. Worse—some part of her wanted him to continue.
Still, watching Sizki's bowed head and trembling shoulders, he couldn't help but ask:
"Tell me," Ryuji leaned closer, his voice low and teasing, "have you really never touched yourself before? You're severely pent-up."
Sizki's thoughts were in chaos.
Logically, she should hate Ryuji. Yet right now, she couldn't muster even a shred of anger. Instead, a treacherous part of her ached for him to do it again—to take her back to that dizzying orgasm.
She didn't understand why. Why she felt so... so shameless. But the longing refused to fade.
So, in a voice barely above a whisper, she answered—not even sure why she was humoring him at all.
Her heart lurched. Heat rose to her cheeks.
"I... I haven't. Martial artists... aren't supposed to indulge in desire. We must be disciplined—free of weakness. I… I don't know why my body reacted this way…"
Even as she said it, she knew the lie. She could still feel it—his touch engraved on her, the taste of that intoxicating pleasure still burning in her veins. She had spent her life mastering her body, suppressing every flicker of temptation. But now that she had tasted it, she knew the truth.
This was no passing weakness. This was a craving. A hunger that discipline alone could never banish.
Her mind was still drowning in the memory of that pleasure. No matter how hard she tried to push it away, the sensation clung to her like a second skin. The disciplined training that once came so easily now seemed unbearable in hindsight. The urges she'd once suppressed without thought now felt impossible to ignore.
And she knew exactly why.
It was like a person who, unaware of their lifespan, could live each day joyfully—but the moment they learned their death was near, that peace shattered.
Before, when she'd never known such ecstasy, resisting temptation had been effortless. She'd even chastised others for their weakness. But now that she'd tasted it?
It was addictive.
Her body craved it. It was natural—a primal call toward pleasure, toward creation. And now that the gates had been opened, there was no going back.
Ryuji had shattered her armor. He was the key, the hammer, the point of no return.
She was no longer the pure, disciplined warrior who could train without distraction.
"You bastard…"
Sizki gritted her teeth, the resentment in her heart deepening even as her body betrayed her with traitorous anticipation. She hated how this affected her training—how it slowed her progress toward true strength.
She wanted to hate him. She wanted to strike him down.
And yet...
The memory of being utterly overwhelmed by him sent an involuntary shiver down her spine. She recalled the way he had pinned her, the way he had stripped her control away with brutal ease… her body trembled again, this time not with fear but with longing.
The thought was shameful. Treacherous. But it was there.
She craved it.
That crushing dominance, that sense of being powerless yet... safe.
Did she... want a shield as much as she wanted to be one?
Her thoughts blurred, but before she could untangle them, Ryuji suddenly pulled her against his chest. Her first instinct was to resist, but her strength was spent, her body limp from the aftershocks of her orgasm. Her spirit resisted, but her body betrayed her, melting against him.
"So then…" His voice rumbled close to her ear, his hands tracing the supple curves of her sweat-slicked body. The pheromones radiating off her were intoxicating—more visceral than Seria's delicate allure. "Will you join my harem?"
Sizki's breath hitched.
"As for strength—don't worry." His lips brushed her ear. "I'll be your sparring partner. You know firsthand how much faster growth comes from real combat." A pause, then lower: "And I want you. Your fire, your discipline... your body. I need someone like you, Sizki. Be my wings."
The scent of him, the heat radiating from his body, the deep, almost commanding timbre of his voice—it all broke through her defenses with terrifying ease.
Sizki shivered. She wanted to say no. She wanted to curse him again. But some shameful, hidden part of her… wanted to say yes.
Her mind spun. She knew she wasn't thinking clearly—knew her judgment was compromised—but when she opened her mouth to refuse, Ryuji struck deeper.
"Because I want to build a kingdom where no one ever suffers at the hands of monsters again," he said, voice solemn. "That kind of kingdom can't be built by me alone. It takes women like you—strong, dedicated—someone as earnest, as exceptional as you, can truly help me. And you know it—only with greater strength will we uncover the true cause behind this outbreak of monsters."
Sizki fell silent. Why had she come out to temper herself in the first place? Was it for revenge?
No.
Was it for fame, wealth and power?
Not that either.
She had come so that fewer people would suffer like her, so that others would not lose their loved ones to monsters. She wanted to uncover who was truly behind the chaos that had engulfed the world of Arad.
Her training had never been for her own sake.
She didn't know if what Ryuji said was true, or if he really would follow through with his words.
But she did trust him, at least to some extent.
Yes, he was undeniably lecherous, but he had never cared much for wealth. Despite his overwhelming strength, he was willing to listen to advice. And whenever he had spare time, he was always studying, always learning.
Perhaps… joining him wasn't such a bad idea.
Sizki wasn't sure. Her mind was a mess, and Ryuji's words struck something deep within her. She bit her lip again, then slowly wrapped her arms around his waist.
"I… I'll be watching you."
She neither agreed nor refused outright. Even she didn't know what she truly wanted. It all felt muddled, yet the thought of leaving him now made her hesitate.
Her feelings were too complicated to name. And silently, in the depths of her heart, she prayed:
Master… what should I do?
She longed for guidance. And at last, her years of training gave her a single clear answer.
Her teacher's words echoed in her mind:
"No matter how beautiful one's words may sound, what truly matters is what they do. Words can deceive, but actions never will."
And so, Sizki decided—she would give Ryuji a chance.
As for Ryuji…
"Phew… I think I managed to talk my way through that one."
A bead of cold sweat rolled down his forehead.
Truthfully, he had calmed down the moment he noticed how heavily restrained Sizki's emotions were. The raw hunger inside him had already been satisfied, and for the first time he realized his feelings for her weren't only about her alluring body. There was something else.
The first thing was restraint—that intoxicating feeling of being lectured by a strong-willed girl. Ryuji couldn't quite explain why he, who normally had little sense of shame, found that style of treatment so alluring. And yet, when his "forbidden power" stripped away all limits, even the tiniest desires that made up his personality were magnified and laid bare.
After all, he did have a weakness for being stepped on by a girl in stockings.
But the second desire—that was the true key.
He wanted to see Sizki's defenses break down. She was always so proper, so composed, her behavior elegant and perfectly in order. He longed to watch that facade shatter—to see her go from proud and untouchable to trembling, betraying her own will as her body surrendered against her better judgment. That moment of collapse, that fall from dignity, was the very reason he had pinned her down and skillfully worked her into climax.
He hadn't expected, however, that Sizki would prove so incredibly sensitive.
'Girls who train their bodies really do have high sexual desires… confirmed once again,' he muttered almost to himself.
Ryuji knew it was true in principle, though it still amused him. Physical training and sexual desire were complicated. Back when his daily training had been brutal and exhausting, he hadn't had the energy to even think about women. But once he had shifted to maintaining his condition instead of pushing himself to the limit, the simmering tension afterward had often left him itching to take Robin to bed.
It all came down to consumption: when the body was completely drained, lust couldn't take root.
'Sizki used to travel alone,' he reasoned to himself, analyzing her situation. 'She had to earn her own money, buy her own food, her own medicines and gear. Every day, her training was relentless. But lately, she's been eating rich meals every night, and because of me, her training intensity dropped. No wonder her body's brimming with pent-up desires now.'
The logic snapped into place. In his state of unleashed forbidden power, his instincts had simply whispered: She's ready. Take her. And they'd been right.
'…Still, the fact that she agreed to me so easily…' Ryuji frowned slightly, bewildered. He hadn't intended to abandon responsibility, but Sizki's almost unconscious obedience still surprised him. The way a girl's heart worked was endlessly mysterious.
Holding her now—her damp body, trembling, pressed against him—he felt his self-control slipping again. His dick that had only just calmed stirred once more, prodding firmly against her abdomen.
It was only then that Sizki realized she was still nestled in Ryuji's embrace.
Her first instinct was to pull away, but the warmth of his arms made her hesitate. She wavered between wanting to escape and not quite being able to let go, and in the end she could only sigh in weary resignation at his shamelessness.
"Can't you stop being so lecherous for once?"
Sizki sighed helplessly. She knew all too well that with Ryuji's lustful nature, it was impossible to expect him not to pursue other women. He had never even bothered to hide that part of himself.
She had once admired Seria in her heart, but never imagined that today, by some twist of fate, she herself would end up becoming like Seria.
"Sorry," Ryuji gave an embarrassed laugh, "but you're simply too irresistible."
Sizki let out another long sigh and extended her hand toward him. For a moment she hesitated, recalling Ryuji's earlier reactions, then her cheeks turned crimson. Avoiding his gaze, she asked in a small, trembling voice:
"Do you… want me to use my hand? Or… another way?"
Even she didn't know why such words had left her mouth. All she knew was that hearing his praise, and recalling everything that had just happened, had stirred a strange sensation inside her. Her thighs brushed together restlessly, as if seeking relief from a nameless heat.
Ryuji's lips curled into a slow, knowing smile as he watched the subtle movement of her legs.
"Of course… but," he murmured something into her ear.
Her eyes flew wide open, shocked, staring at him as if he were mad. She couldn't believe he had actually suggested that. And yet, after biting down on her lip for several seconds, she gave a faint nod.
So, Ryuji leaned back onto the grass while Sizki timidly climbed onto his chest, straddling him. Her soft, plump hips pressed against him, the warmth of her body spreading deliciously through his chest. His hands moved freely over her slender waist and supple thighs, filling him with a strange satisfaction.
"You scoundrel…" she muttered, her voice trembling with both shame and something else.
Even as she cursed him, she obeyed his suggestion. Slowly, almost nervously, she lowered her head and wrapped her hand around Ryuji's rigid cock.
She still couldn't understand why her self-control was slipping away, why her reason and shame seemed to melt, leaving only the pull of desire. But with every stroke of his hand caressing her thighs, her body quivered helplessly.
Even the slight bend of her body made the delicate tips of her breasts rub against the thin fabric of her clothes, sending sparks of unbearable longing through her.
"So strange…" she whispered shakily. "It feels like… just like Ryuji… I've been possessed by some kind of forbidden power…"
The thought flickered through her mind, only to be drowned out by the heat pooling low in her belly. Her gaze locked onto the throbbing length before her—Ryuji's dick, standing proud in the chilly air, steam rising from its flushed tip.
That musky, pungent scent filled her nostrils again. It wasn't exactly pleasant, yet when she inhaled, Sizki found herself swallowing hard. The idea of doing what Ryuji demanded—taking that monstrous thing into her mouth—sent waves of shame and indignation through her.
And yet...
A forbidden thrill coiled tighter with each passing second.
"Why am I even considering this? Have I completely lost my dignity?"
With another quiet grumble, she surrendered to the urge. Eyes squeezed shut, she bent forward until her lips brushed against the swollen head.
The moment they made contact, Ryuji groaned in appreciation. Sizki flinched back, took a steadying breath, then—with painstaking care—parted her lips and allowed the thick shaft to slide inside.
Heat. Weight. The faint saltiness coating her tongue.
Ryuji shuddered at the sensation—the warm, tentative strokes of her tongue, the occasional scrape of teeth from her inexperience, the way she awkwardly tried to accommodate him despite her obvious reluctance.
It wasn't enough.
Lying flat on his back, he gave Sizki's rounded butt cheeks a light smack.
"Nngh—!"
The impact jolted through her, sending vibrations straight to her already-sensitive pussy. Her hips jerked up instinctively, drawing another muffled whimper around Ryuji's length.
Damn Ryuji! Why do I have to—! I should be punching him right now! I'm already doing this much, why is he rushing—!
Frustration welled up. In retaliation, she nipped lightly at the base of his dick.
Gluck!* Gluck!!* Slurp!*
"Hss—!"
Ryuji hissed, but before he could protest, Sizki redoubled her efforts—forcing herself to endure the unfamiliar taste, her tongue now working in slow, deliberate swirls along his length.
Pleasure surged through him. Both hands settled on her hips, kneading the plush flesh of her rear. He'd never expected Sizki to agree to this, yet here she was, cheeks hollowed around him, her every hesitant movement driving him wild.
Then—
A flash of white fabric filled his vision.
Luo Hua's panties, clinging damply to her curves, were now positioned directly over his face. The thin material did little to hide her arousal, the scent of her own need mingling with the musk already heavy in the air.
The once-neat but slightly worn outfit was now thoroughly drenched, clinging tightly to her skin. Yet, thanks to its specialized fabric—designed precisely to handle sweat without becoming transparent—Ryuji still couldn't peek beneath.
Of course. Professional combat gear.
It was practically a bikini in design, but functionality trumped modesty. Breathable, durable, and—most importantly—opaque even when soaked. Many fighters swore by it.
Still, one thought nagged at him:
'She must shave, right?'
With how skin-tight the fabric was, any hair would've been glaringly obvious. And Sizki's outfit hugged her so snugly that there wasn't even a hint of texture.
Curiosity got the better of him.
With a deft flick of his fingers, he peeled aside the damp white triangle of fabric, exposing her glistening folds to the suddenly cool air. Steam seemed to rise from her heated skin as he took in the sight.
Sizki's shape was textbook perfection—smooth, symmetrical, and utterly hairless. Not a single strand disrupted the porcelain-like surface; even her pores were nearly invisible, lending an almost unnatural softness.
Remembering her bare underarms earlier, Ryuji smirked.
A snow-white tigress.
"Not bad at all..."
His chuckle sent a fresh shiver down Sizki's spine. She gasped, head snapping down to stare at him with wide eyes—but Ryuji was already moving.
He hadn't forgotten how sensitive she was. If she'd gone this far for him…
Why stop now?
His tongue darted out, the warm, rough surface dragging over her swollen clit. Sizki jerked violently, a strangled whimper escaping as the sensation tore through her. The wet heat, the deliberate strokes—it was too much, yet not enough.
But Ryuji wasn't done.
His tongue pressed deeper, probing past her trembling entrance to taste her properly. The moment it brushed against the thin barrier of her innocence, Sizki's hands flew to her mouth, muffling a cry.
The flavor was… unique. But Ryuji's focus had already shifted.
If I'm working this hard… what's she doing?
Ryuji gave her plump hips a firm smack. It took Sizki a dazed moment to process what he wanted—and when she did, her mind short-circuited all over again.
The relentless pounding from below already had her on the verge of tears. Now, he expected her to serve him like this? For someone as disciplined and rigid as Sizki, the humiliation burned like fire—yet beneath the shame flickered something darker, hotter.
Excitement.
Anticipation.
And fear.
She could barely suppress her moans as it was. Without Ryuji's fingers sealing her lips, she'd subconsciously moan—
What if Seria sees?
What if little Rosh walks in?
Rosh was one thing, but Seria—!
Another sharp slap jolted her from her panic. At the same time, Ryuji's wicked tongue abandoned her pussy, diverting its attention lower—to the pert, pink bud of her clit.
"Mmnn—?!"
Her back arched violently. Trapped between his mouth's assault and the thick intrusion down her throat, Sizki collapsed against him, trembling. One hand flew to her own mouth in a futile attempt to muffle the sounds threatening to escape, while the other clutched at his shoulder, nails biting into skin.
She couldn't spit his cock out—not unless she wanted another stinging spank to send fresh shocks through her oversensitive body.
Ryuji, meanwhile, reveled in the way her throat convulsed around him with every gag reflex she fought back. The tight, rhythmic clenching was intoxicating. He picked up pace, drunk on the obscene wet sounds and the salt-tang of her sweat.
A shame she doesn't taste sweet, he mused idly, even as his hips snapped forward.
But Sizki had reached her limit.
Choking.
The devilish flick of his tongue.
The degrading grip on her hips.
It was too much.
"Uuuhhhhnn—!!"
A broken whimper escaped as her body seized. A gush of translucent fluid sprayed across Ryuji's abdomen—only for every droplet to freeze midair, suspended by his water manipulation before being funneled into a waiting cup.
Spent, Sizki slumped forward, his dick slipping from her lips as she gasped for air. Her legs, however, remained hooked around him, thighs still quivering.
Ryuji chuckled. Once her breathing steadied, he tilted the cup toward her, letting the sticky liquid glisten under the light. Her mortified glare only widened his grin.
"You... you're such a bastard..."
Sizki's voice was muffled, her words half-hearted as she obediently parted her lips under Ryuji's guidance. The taste of his arousal—salty, musky—filled her mouth, mingling with the lingering sweetness of their earlier union.
"Your bastard," he corrected.
Unbeknownst to either of them, wisps of forbidden power—power that Ryuji unconsciously radiated—were seeping into Sizki's body. These remnants didn't grant immediate strength but instead wove themselves into her very essence, elevating her potential.
Had she known, she might have resisted less.
To Ryuji, this energy was negligible, a mere byproduct of his existence. But to the people of this world? It was a treasure beyond measure—a key to unlocking heights they could never reach alone.
Yet potential remained just that—potential. Without relentless training, it would never blossom into true power.
Neither realized this, of course. Lost in the strange, intimate tension between them—they were oblivious to the transformation taking place.
The only one fully aware?
A certain "sleeping" bystander.
"Are you two done yet?! How is anyone supposed to sleep with this racket?! Damn uncivilized people of Arad!"
Rosh, cheeks flushed crimson, clenched her fists beneath the sheets, who was to be asleep but had woken a long time ago.
~~~~~~~~~~
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