I dropped.
The first five rounds went fine. Better than fine, actually, because the remnants of Aurora's Silver essence still circulated through my muscles and the sexual training multiplier from last night had pushed my Endurance stat to the edge of C-rank. My body responded with the reliable performance of someone whose physical capabilities had been upgraded through supernatural lactation and aggressive fornication, which was a sentence I could never say out loud without sounding like I belonged in a padded room.
Round six started the decline. My arms remembered they'd been supporting my weight above various people for extended periods throughout the night, and the push-ups began to feel less like exercise and more like the ground was personally offended by my existence and wanted me closer.
