On entering the Demon Clan, the intercepted heat never withered—preparations were similarly gaining, maybe even more intense.
Demons had no special manipulation abilities like the elves, but to make up for that they were built with impossible brute force—bodies harder than iron with a relatively high durability.
Allen's eyes studied their war defense formation as he followed the lead of Natasha, her grip firm on his cock, and Elara pushing from behind as if they were taking him to a sacred room where moans would echo.
Their formation, and even the subtle look on their faces, showed how short-handed they were against enemies who didn't even need to bleed.
A tall man with two muted horns stood in front of them, strictly warning, his voice thundering across the platform.
"No punches. Not even breaking. Keep your hands behind your back and stand tall like a wall, even if you're being stabbed in the guts."
