Chapter 108. Born This Way
Succubi Chapter 108. Born This Way
Adrian and I were still laughing like idiots, adrenaline still buzzing through our veins, when I finally looked around.
The mood had changed.
Not just for us.
But for the whole arena.
I caught them staring. Not just our classmates, but students from the other sections too. Arcana, Saint, even a few Titan tanks peeking over the edge of their ring.
The girls? Blushed. Some wide-eyed. One literally bit her lip and looked away when I made eye contact.
The guys? Half of them looked impressed. The other half?
Awe.
Jealousy.
A few were probably trying to calculate if they could copy my moves without snapping their own spine.
And me?
I felt it.
The spotlight.
Like a warm, glittering spotlight from Hell itself, aimed right at my soul.
My demonic heritage stirred in my blood like it knew I was being watched. Being admired.
Praised.
And as a Pride demon, yeah, I thrived on that.
So I did what came naturally.
I tilted my head back, let the sweat drip off my jaw just enough to glisten. I reached up, slowly, and ran a hand through my hair, brushing it back like I was posing for a magazine spread titled “Top Ten Spellcasters You’d Sell Your Soul For.”
And holy crap, it worked.
I heard one of the girls near the front row gasp softly. Another whispered something that sounded suspiciously like “oh my God.” One of the girls fanned herself.
Even a couple of bruisers blinked and gave that universal male nod of approval like, “alright, respect.”
The guys behind me?
Groaned.
Adrian groaned the loudest.
“Why are you like this?” he muttered, covering his eyes like I’d just strip-teased my ego into physical form.
“I was born this way,” I said smoothly.
“You were born annoying.”
“Hot and annoying,” I added, tossing him a wink.
“Stop flirting with yourself in public.”
“I’m the only one who understands me.”
“You’re a menace,” he sighed, dramatically turning away.
But I didn’t laugh with him this time.
Because suddenly...
I felt it.
That prickle.
That heavy, pressing feeling like a laser sight aimed right between my eyebrows.
I knew that feeling.
Like mana pressure condensed into a single line. A spell not cast, but held, tensed, ready. It wasn’t actual magic, but the intent. That predator’s stare.
I turned, slow.
And there he was.
Ares.
From Valor.
Standing at the edge of the neighboring arena, arms crossed over his chest, hair slicked back in that too-clean, too-perfect way like he just stepped out of a propaganda poster. Muscles packed tight into a black and red training suit that probably cost more than my dorm's monthly funding.
His eyes?
Locked on me.
Sharp. Cold. Calculating.
I almost gave him a smirk back... something cocky, casual, cool.
But then...
I saw it.
Leon.
Leon was on his knees!
Bruised.
A healer crouched beside him, hands glowing as she worked on a nasty gash across his ribs.
And behind them?
Evelyn.
She stood tense. Her fists clenched. Her eyes locked on Ares with that sharp, Envy-born fire in her stare that meant something was very, very wrong.
And Ares?
He didn’t look even winded.
He just… turned.
And smirked at me.
Then walked away.
No words.
Just that look. Like I was next. Like Leon was a message he just delivered.
I frowned.
“Impossible,” I muttered.
Adrian followed my gaze. “What?”
“Leon… beat him before. He’s faster, stronger.”
“Maybe Leon slipped.”
“Leon doesn’t slip. Not like that.”
Adrian’s voice dropped. “Then what are you saying?”
I didn’t answer.
Because I didn’t know what I was saying yet.
Just that it didn’t add up.
The mock exam scores? Leon topped more than Ares.
And now he was walking away like the main character while Leon was bleeding on the floor?
No.
Something wasn’t right.
Before I could process it further...
A sharp throat clear snapped me back.
Elise.
She stood in front of me again, her boots silent on the smooth arena tile, hands behind her back. Slate tablet floating beside her, notes scrawled in neat, glowing runes.
“Drakos,” she said crisply.
“Yes, ma’am?” I turned fast, almost too fast. Mind still reeling.
“Your assessment,” she said.
Oh.
Right.
She read from the slate, voice monotone but focused. “Mana response— high. Spatial awareness— adequate. Tactical deviation— above average. Orb usage efficiency—low. Needs improvement. Your movement's clean, but your follow-through suffers under pressure. You improvise more than you should. But…”
She looked at me then. Not writing. Just staring.
“…your reaction time is unnaturally fast.”
I blinked. “Is that good or bad?”
“Undecided,” she said. “I don’t trust flukes.”
“Fair.”
She narrowed her eyes slightly. “You teleported.”
I blinked. “Yeah.”
“Last time, you couldn’t teleport.”
“Well, I can now.”
She arched a brow. “When did you acquire that skill?”
I scratched the back of my neck. “Uh… yesterday.”
The silence was deafening.
She just stared at me.
The kind of stare that drills past your eyeballs and straight into your browser history.
“Yesterday,” she repeated.
I nodded slowly. “Yeah.”
“That fast.”
“Um.”
“You acquired a spatial displacement skill overnight.”
“I mean… technically… yes?”
Her eyes narrowed. “That’s not normal.”
“Thank you?”
“That wasn’t a compliment.”
“Right. Yeah. Got it.”
She took a step closer.
“Drakos. I’m watching you. Closely. You’re either the most absurd fast-learner I’ve ever seen or you’re hiding something.”
I tried not to visibly gulp. “I like to think I’m just gifted.”
“Gifted is one thing. This is different.”
I held my breath.
Her eyes stayed on me for another few seconds. Long enough for my demonic instincts to scream she knows. Not what. Not how much. But she knew something was off.
Then...
She turned.
“Keep training. Don’t rely on your talents. They’ll betray you faster than your enemies will.”
“Thanks,” I said quietly.
She walked away.
Adrian leaned in a second later, whispering, “Sooo… you gonna tell her aliens abducted you and uploaded a secret combat program into your brain or…?”
“I will literally end you.”
“I’m just saying, bro. Elise looked at you like you were either a prodigy or a ticking bomb.”
“She’s not wrong.”
He studied me for a second. Really studied me. His usual grin faded into something quieter, more thoughtful. Like he was trying to see past my skin. Like he was wondering what else I hadn’t told him.
Then finally he said, “You’re weird, Evan.”
I smirked. “You just now noticed?”
“No. I mean like... scary weird. Useful weird. The ‘I don’t know what you’re turning into, but it’s not normal’ kind of weird.”
I didn’t say anything.
Because what could I say?
He wasn’t wrong.
I was changing. Fast. Too fast.
And I didn’t know how long I could keep pretending it was all coincidence or talent.
But for now?
I was still Evan Drakos. First-year Arcana. Somehow both admired and hated. And very much… pretending to be ordinary.
Whatever Ares was doing, however he beat Leon, something about it felt off.
Wrong.
I wasn’t going to ignore it.
Something was off.
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