Chapter 106. Expectation
Succubi Chapter 106. Expectation
Class ended with a few pop quiz questions that were way too easy, even by beginner Arcana standards. I got them all right. So did Adrian. Honestly, the hardest part of the class was staying awake. The only dramatic moment was when someone’s scroll caught fire again, which, to be fair, happened weekly.
When we were dismissed, the mood changed.
Because now it was arena time.
We all filed in. First-year Arcana, grouped in clusters of nervous anticipation. Some of us already in practice gear, others still changing in the side rooms.
And standing at the far end of the arena, arms crossed, eyes sharp, was her.
Elise Veyne.
Arcana Combat Instructor.
She was terrifying.
Not in a loud way.
But in that quiet, clinical way where you just knew she’d broken someone’s spine once and called it “instructional feedback.”
I swallowed and tried to look composed as I approached the sparring group.
Elise’s eyes found me immediately.
Of course they did.
She didn’t smile.
Didn’t blink.
Just tilted her head slightly, like I was a weird bug that might be worth studying.
Or dissecting.
“Evan,” she said coolly.
I nodded. “Instructor.”
“You’re punctual.”
“I try.”
Her eyes flicked over me once. Assessing. Measuring. It felt like she could see my mana flow and how many hours of sleep I got and maybe the last time I cried.
Then she turned to the rest of the class. “Today, we’re adjusting the protocol. No holograms.”
That got everyone’s attention.
Adrian leaned toward me and whispered, “What does she mean ‘no holograms’?”
Elise continued. “Today, you will fight real opponent. Nothing fatal. But tangible. With weight. With pain. You will bleed. But not die.”
A few students exchanged uneasy glances. One girl straight-up gulped.
Elise’s eyes narrowed slightly. “You’re Arcana. If you want safe, join the Saints. If you want violence, go to Valor. But here? You will think. You will adapt. Or you will fail.”
Adrian muttered, “Okay, she’s giving villain monologue again. I’m scared and slightly aroused cause my brain still on Lilith’s tits.”
“Shut up,” I hissed, trying not to laugh.
Adrian smirked like he just won a trophy for public embarrassment and pride assassination.
Elise gestured.
Two assistants came forward, dressed in the usual combat monitor robes, enchanted, emotionless, and painfully efficient. They activated the secondary ring nodes embedded into the floor, and I felt the familiar thrum of mana surge up through the arena like the place itself was waking up.
Circles flared around us, glowing red on one side, blue on the other. The ceiling crystals dimmed slightly as new ones focused down like magical spotlights. And above our heads, intricate arcane runes formed midair, crackling with stabilized mana.
Elise’s voice rang clear across the arena. Cold. Precise.
“You are going to fight them.”
Her eyes swept across the class, then locked briefly on me. “One versus one.”
The moment she said it, those runes hanging above began to shimmer brighter, shaping into translucent symbols, rotating slowly like they were watching us back.
“These are your targets,” she continued, lifting a hand. “They are also their targets.”
My eyes narrowed, tracking the slow orbit of the sigils. They looked fragile, just floating constructs, like glowing glass etched with old-world glyphs. Breakable. Probably a single strong hit or direct mana surge would shatter them.
“The goal,” Elise said, “is simple. Destroy the opponent’s rune while protecting your own. The ones whose rune is destroyed… loses.”
A few Arcana students muttered under their breath. This wasn’t our usual format. No projections. No timed duels. No damage tracking. Just a raw, strategic brawl, with something to protect.
Elise raised one brow, then added smoothly, “They are both mid-tier fighters, so take it seriously. I don’t want hesitation.”
And then…
She looked straight at me.
I felt the whole room shift slightly. Not with magic. With attention.
“Especially you, Evan.”
I blinked. “Me?”
She nodded. “You’ve performed well last time. Extremely well. Your precision in combat is good. Your spell efficiency is perfect. I’ve seen your decisions under pressure.”
My lips twitched. That… almost sounded like praise.
“I put a lot of expectations on you,” she said flatly. “Don’t make me regret it.”
I straightened. Grinned just a little. “No pressure or anything.”
“Good,” she said. “Show me you’re worth watching.”
Adrian elbowed me. “Dude, she so wants to adopt you as her personal project.”
“Stop,” I muttered. “You’re going to get me killed.”
“She called you out in front of everyone. With expectations. That’s like a proposal in Arcana language.”
“I will throw a mana bolt at your mouth.”
“First and second matches will run simultaneously,” Elise continued. “You’ll both have your own assistant. Your rune targets will float above. This will test your focus, split-second judgment, and ability to read a professional combatant. Not a predictable classmate.”
Then she looked at me.
“Evan Drakos, second ring.”
Of course.
Of course I’d be the first lamb on the altar.
The assistant who stepped into the opposite ring was tall, built like a Titan house bruiser, and had the kind of calm expression that said, ‘I’ve crushed at least seven kids today and I’ll do it again for lunch.’
His name tag read “Diven.” No last name. Just Diven. Like he moonlighted as a villain in his off-hours.
He gave me a polite nod. I returned it, trying to size him up without making it look like I was panicking.
He wore light armor, not the heavy stuff. Cloth weave with subtle enchantments. A long-bladed staff in his hand. Probably half-channeler, half-fighter. The kind of guy who would pretend to be slow, then break your ribs before you blinked.
I stepped into my half of the ring.
My mana flowed like blood in my teeth. My pulse fast. Not fear, just pressure. That buzzing behind the eyes. That itch under the skin that says prove yourself. Show them what you are. Show them why you don’t wear a house crest like everyone else.
The rune target shimmered to life above my head, red and glowing. His appeared too, a bright blue glyph etched in layered energy.
We stood in mirrored positions. The circle flared. A soft chime echoed through the arena.
Match start.
And instantly…
He moved.
No hesitation. None of the testing steps most students used. Just a fluid, predatory dash, staff spinning as a barrier sigil flared beneath his boots to boost his speed.
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