Succubi Chapter 142. I Could Bless You or Break You
We made our way to the West Wing battleground. The big one. You'd think a battleground would look more like a prison yard or an actual arena, but no. The academy somehow decided "ancient temple meets mana-gladiator coliseum" was the vibe. Marble floors, enchanted torches, floating mana crystals circling above like lazy fireflies. You could still smell the ozone from the last dozen spell clashes.
And as per academy regulations, a Saint House student followed us. Just in case we accidentally broke each other's spines.
The guy was tall. Broad shoulders. Saint uniform trimmed in gold, sleeves rolled up slightly. He walked with that quiet authority that said "I could bless you or break you depending on my caffeine levels."
I leaned toward Leon. "You know him?"
Leon, still chewing a fried nugget, shook his head. "Nope. But that's a third-year for sure. Maybe semester six? Look at that mana control. He's not even leaking any."
The guy walked ahead, hands folded behind his back, just nodding once like a bored supervisor. Probably saw a dozen fights a week. This was nothing to him.
Evelyn walked beside me. Quiet, but watching everything.
Leon, being the disaster he was, brought his entire lunch tray.
"You're gonna eat while I fight?" I asked.
He shrugged. "Fighting makes me hungry."
I handed my bag to Evelyn without a word. She caught it, raised an eyebrow. "Sure you wanna do this?"
I smirked. "He's the one who asked."
She looked at me for a long second. "Be careful."
"I'm always careful."
"You're never careful."
"Touché."
Ares stood in the middle of the battleground already, sword strapped to his back. Waiting. Not pacing. Just still. Calm. Focused. Yeah… he was different.
And he had an entourage.
Mostly Valor students. I recognized a few. Sword-track types. One of them had their hand on their chest like they were watching a prince return from war. Another one was already biting her lip.
Evelyn noticed it too. Didn't say anything. But I caught the micro-expression.
Huh.
Interesting.
I walked to the center.
Ares turned to face me.
We stopped just a few feet apart. The old white lines marking the duel boundary crackled softly beneath our boots.
He gave a short nod. "We'll make it fast. First to drop loses."
I rolled my shoulder. "Fine by me."
He wasn't smug. Not like the last time. No cocky smirk. No unnecessary flexing.
Just… grounded.
"I see you upgraded your personality since last time," I said lightly.
"I had to," he replied. "I was too confident before. I'm trying to make it up now."
I wasn't sure if he meant it, but something in his tone sounded like truth. And pride demon or not, I could respect that.
The Saint third-year clapped his hands once.
"Both combatants ready?"
Ares reached for his weapon.
I lowered my stance, feeling the mana coil into my limbs.
"Ready," we both said.
Healer raised his hand. "Begin!"
The air pulsed.
Ares moved first.
Fast. Way faster than before.
His sword materialized in a flash of golden light, sleek, single edged, like a holy bastard child between a longsword and a cleaver. It crackled with radiant mana as if forged from a sunbeam and a grudge.
I ducked back just as he slashed across horizontally.
[Shadow Step]
My body vanished in a smear of black and reappeared three feet behind him.
He spun mid-air.
His body twisted as if he expected the feint.
I parried his follow-up with a snap of my conjured blade, Shadow Blade, Dagger Variant, barely catching the edge.
-Clang!
The shock ran through my arm.
He was stronger.
His strike didn't feel heavier in mana pressure.
But his movement. The precision. The intent.
It was cleaner. Sharper. No wasted energy.
I backed off a step, then leapt forward and slashed at his shoulder from the left.
He blocked with his forearm, his blade coming up half a second later like a trap.
I ducked.
Rolled.
Swiped his ankle.
He jumped over it.
Damn.
We clashed again. My shadow blade met his radiant edge in a flash of sparks.
Every time he struck, it felt like I had to guess his next move with instinct more than analysis.
I triggered Devil Armor. The plates snapped over my chest, arms, shins, and shoulders. The instant pressure relief was subtle, but welcome.
I swung again. Shadow Blade shifted, morphed into a whip mid-arc.
It lashed out, trying to catch his midsection.
He twisted. Not a dodge. A full pivot. He let the whip slide across his side, stepping in with his elbow.
He almost got me.
I barely managed to disengage and blinked out again.
Shadow Step.
Reappeared above him.
He looked up. No panic.
He smiled.
He wanted me to try aerial.
I dropped, aimed a two-handed slam down.
He raised his sword, not to block.
To anchor.
My strike hit it.
And I felt it.
That subtle mana reversal.
He absorbed some of my impact and spun.
His shoulder hit my chest mid-air.
I grunted as I fell.
Rolled once on the ground.
My boots skidded across the stone floor.
Evelyn shouted something. Probably my name.
Leon? Still chewing.
"You good?" Ares asked across the distance.
I stood up. "I'm enjoying the warm-up."
He cracked his neck and advanced again.
[Dark Orbs]
The triangle formed around us.
Fifty swirling orbs of pure condensed shadow magic pulsed around the field.
Some Valor students in the stands actually gasped.
Ares' eyes widened just slightly.
Each orb shimmered dark violet, vibrating with silent gravity.
Then… pop!
One exploded.
-Boom!
Mini pulse.
Another.
Another.
Each detonation pulled at him. Sucked him off balance.
I sprinted forward, ducking between the pulses. My body pulled and pushed with each wave.
He held his ground. Used his sword like a third limb, stabilizing himself.
I slashed again, this time with blade twin variant. Two short daggers, one low, one high.
He blocked the high one, missed the low.
My dagger nicked his thigh.
I felt it.
A hit.
He grunted, stepped back.
Reset.
Sweat glistened on his forehead now.
I wasn't winning yet. But I wasn't losing. And yeah, as always, I was analyzing him.
He exhaled. "You've improved."
"Same."
We circled.
Another pulse detonated nearby. This one closer. Harder.
He lunged through it.
Risky.
But his shoulder caught mine.
He slammed me into the pillar near the edge of the field.
I coughed.
Grinned.
"You really want to confess something, huh?"
"Later," he replied.
Another pulse blew.
We both staggered.
He tried to press the attack again.
But this time?
I ducked low.
[Shadow Blade - Scythe Form.]
Sweeping arc.
He jumped, but not high enough.
I nicked his arm.
Mana flickered across his sleeve.
He backed off, finally breathing heavier.
Still no clear winner.
But one thing was obvious.
Ares?
He had changed.
His style was still Valor. Still warrior. Still grit and steel.
But now?
Now he was calculating.
Smart.
Clean.
Precise.
A few more seconds, and this would become more than just a test of strength.
It was already becoming a fight of timing. Control.
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