Chapter 111. Colder
Succubi Chapter 111. Colder
The rest of the day went on normal.
And by “normal,” I mean no one punched me, dragged me into a duel, or threw a desk at my face.
So yeah, normal enough.
Leon was back to half-smiling again, probably thanks to Lilith’s divine-level cooking. That woman could cure heartbreak with her soups. I wasn’t even joking. You could taste salvation in her spices.
I was still dragging that stupid cloud of attention around, though. The girls from other houses waved or stared too long. A few whispered. One even slipped a folded note under the table. I didn’t open it. I didn’t need another “I saw your fight, meet me behind the academy at sunset” situation. Last time it ended with a date, a relationship with my ex, and then she left me.
Not my fault I radiate natural “bad idea” energy. Pride demon charisma and all that jazz.
Anyway, Leon looked better. Still quiet, but not as hollow. The food helped. He’d gone for seconds and that alone told me he was healing. Evelyn stayed close by, her expression unreadable, watching both of us like a cat that had already predicted twenty moves ahead.
Then came the mixed class.
It was one of those big lecture halls that looked like someone mashed up a temple and a laboratory, floating diagrams, energy runes drifting across the ceiling, a faint smell of chalk and mana ink. Arcana, Valor, Saint, Titan, all first semester students together.
I sat where I always did, middle row, between Leon and Evelyn. Adrian plopped down beside Leon, all energy and zero awareness of subtle tension.
“Yo,” Adrian said, sliding into his seat. “Leon, you good? Heard you got your soul drop-kicked earlier.”
Leon groaned. “Thanks for the reminder.”
“Just saying, bro. You’re like, the tank of Valor. Didn’t think anyone could land a hit.”
Leon forced a laugh. “Yeah. Neither did I.”
Adrian blinked, then looked at me. “Uh-oh. He’s in his ‘brooding antihero’ arc. You better feed him again.”
“Already did,” I said. “Lilith’s recipe. Worked miracles.”
Adrian whistled. “Say no more. Divine-tier food. If she opened a restaurant, the Pope would sin for a reservation.”
“Accurate,” I said.
Evelyn coughed softly beside us. “Could you two not turn food into theology?”
“Sorry, ma’am,” Adrian said with mock formality.
I smiled faintly, but then I felt it.
That prickle again.
That weird, invisible tension cutting through the noise of the class like a blade through silk.
I didn’t have to turn to know where it came from.
But I did anyway.
And yeah, there he was.
Ares.
Sitting three rows ahead. Surrounded by his usual fan club, Valor girls in crisp uniforms, whispering, giggling, shining with admiration like he was a hero carved from marble.
Except… he wasn’t acting like one.
The easy, reckless smirk he always wore before? Gone.
That cocky way he laughed with his friends, too. Gone.
Now, he looked colder. Sharper.
Like a grudge with feet.
The air around him even felt heavier. Mana pressure, maybe. Or maybe just that twisted, new confidence that comes after doing something cruel and getting away with it.
He wasn’t laughing. He wasn’t showing off.
He was just… staring.
At me.
I met his eyes across the lecture hall.
That split second stretched long, like time forgot how to move.
There was no mockery in his stare. No arrogance.
Just intent.
It was like he was saying “Your turn is coming.”
I felt that pulse again in my jaw, the one that meant my blood was boiling but my body was too smart to move.
Then…
“Ares,” Professor Arvan’s voice snapped across the room. “If you’re done staring a hole through Mr. Drakos, perhaps you could explain what I just said?”
The whole class turned.
Ares blinked. Startled. “...What?”
“Exactly my question,” the professor said. “Explain the theorem I just covered. The principle of mana field displacement. Go on.”
Ares hesitated. Opened his mouth. Closed it again.
The silence stretched.
The professor sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I see. Then perhaps your victory fame has replaced your ability to pay attention.”
A few students snickered.
I should’ve left it there.
But nope.
Because Professor Arvan turned toward me.
“You, Drakos. You two seem very engaged with each other. Care to enlighten the class with the correct answer?”
Oh, fantastic.
“Yes, sir,” I said, straightening up. “You were referring to displacement variance. When two mana streams cross without matching density, the weaker one collapses into resonance, essentially short-circuiting its user. The theory is to redirect the excess energy into a stabilizing rune pattern.”
Arvan’s brows lifted. “And the formula?”
I scribbled a quick sigil in the air with my mana pen. The rune glowed faintly violet. “K divided by two over lambda squared. Basic Arcana control principle.”
He gave a rare approving nod. “Correct. Good to see someone was paying attention.”
Ares’s jaw flexed.
The professor turned back to him. “You might want to take a page from his notes instead of glaring at him like he owes you money.”
More laughter.
I didn’t look smug.
Not much, anyway.
But when Ares turned his head again, the look he gave me…
That wasn’t annoyance.
That was hatred.
Cold. Focused. Personal.
And yeah, I could feel it. That same pressure. That same weight I’d felt in the arena when Leon fought him.
Something dark under his skin.
Whatever was inside him, it was watching me now too.
The rest of the lecture turned into a brain war.
Arvan loved theory questions, the kind where he’d drop one complex scenario and wait for someone dumb enough to raise their hand.
Today, that someone was apparently me and Ares.
Every time Arvan asked something, we both shot our hands up.
Every time I explained a theory, Ares would add a correction or a counter-argument.
Every time he spoke, I’d twist it slightly, offer another interpretation, force the professor to nod thoughtfully in my direction.
It wasn’t loud.
It wasn’t hostile.
But it was war.
Subtle, silent, and brutal.
Mana field equilibrium.
Crystal resonance stabilization.
The ethics of partial summoning.
Each topic, we traded blows, not with fists or spells, but with words and logic and precision.
Leon leaned over midway through, whispering, “Bro, are you two flirting or fighting?”
“Yes,” I whispered back.
Evelyn sighed beside me, head in hand. “Children. Both of you.”
The tension stretched until the bell chimed.
Professor Arvan dismissed us with “Don’t embarrass me” line, and the room exploded with chatter.
I started packing my notes, but when I looked up again, Ares was still there.
Still watching.
He didn’t say a word.
Didn’t smirk this time either.
Just stared like he was measuring the distance between us.
Like he was already calculating how to kill me in a way no one could trace.
Leon elbowed me. “What’s his problem? He jealous you’re smarter and more handsome?”
“Probably,” I said. “I’d be mad too if I lost to this face.”
Evelyn stood up, rolling her eyes. “You two are impossible.”
Adrian laughed from the next row. “Yeah, but we make it entertaining!”
I forced a grin. But inside?
I could still feel Ares’s mana across the room.
Wrong. Cold. Twisting like a knot that shouldn’t exist.
Whatever changed him… it wasn’t done yet.
And I had a bad feeling the next time we faced each other…
It wouldn’t be in a classroom.
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