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... ed loincloth" counted as trousers—before the next problem slammed into his face. Literally.

A flying bra.

A lacy, frilly, velvet bra the size of a small parachute.

It landed on his head, blinding him.

"WHAT NOW?!" he yelped, flailing like a possessed scarecrow. "Is the lingerie attacking now?!"

"No," Seraphina said, lifting her sword. "That was a warning shot."

Moistessa sniffed the bra. "Hmm. Lavender and shame. Succubus signature."

Yvette ...

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