She fell. He pulled out and she collapsed onto the bed, her body twitching, her pussy leaking a thick mixture of his cum and her own fluids. The glow — golden, radiant, the breakthrough energy — surrounded her. Her skin shimmered. Her nipples — both stiff, both prominent — seemed to glow with inner light.
Then the sword came.
It erupted from her chest. Not violently — not like the premature, unstable materialization of her son's blade. This was clean. Controlled. The blade emerged from her sternum, sliding outward like a flower blooming, the steel — silver-blue, the color of a winter sky — gleaming in the lantern light. The edge was sharp. The glow was steady. A fully formed spirit sword, linked to its host, responding to the breakthrough.
The blade oriented. The tip swung. It pointed at Tianlong.
