Lancelot kissed the soft forehead, her face filled with a pleasant bliss, but her body, like a dead sloth, flopped on the bedsheets. He wrapped her in two quilts to keep her body warm as he stepped into the back garden of her small palace.
'I can feel a sense of inspiration... as if her ethereal frost guides my path.'
"Kara, come to me." He whispered softly and affectionately, and his respect and love for his weapons always surpassed that of a normal person.
Gently gripping her black leather grip, the elegant hilt with cursed symbols appeared as Caladbolg began to awaken. Yet Lancelot felt wrong... that this wasn't the form she should take for his inspiration.
—You wake me up after having such amazing sex with that midget elf... her ass is so huge, and you filled her so much... Ah, it's so lewd how you left her like that.
'Quiet. I want to know something. Can you take other forms?'