Chapter 128. Rage at Puberty
Succubi Chapter 128. Rage at Puberty
Mana surged through my arms like liquid fire. My heartbeat thundered against my ribs, the mask amplifying every breath I took until it sounded like a beast snarling through metal.
I tightened my grip on the shadow whip, letting the mana coils twist and pulse in my palm like a living serpent ready to strike.
The air tasted like burnt ozone and metallic heat, sharp enough to sting the back of my tongue. Sweat crawled down the back of my neck, sticking the fabric of my shirt to my spine. I inhaled slow, steady, trying to center myself. But then she moved.
Slow.
Sensual.
Predatory.
The banshee slid her hands down her thighs, dragging her nails across her skin like she was trying to carve lust into air molecules.
She spread her legs slightly, just enough to reveal a glimpse of smooth inner skin framed by those ridiculous thread‑laced strips of clothing that weren’t protecting anything except the concept of “barely legal fabric coverage.”
My brain short‑circuited.
My below screamed wake up call number 37.
Hormones activated combat stance.
I felt heat rush so fast downward that for a split second I swore the whip pulsed in sympathy.
She smirked, like she could see all of that even with the mask on.
“You’re trembling,” she cooed, voice sweet poison dripping into my ear. “Is it from fear? Or excitement?”
“Neither,” I muttered. “It’s rage at puberty.”
She laughed, the sound layered and echoing like three voices stacked over each other. A seductive chord vibrating through the air.
The ground shimmered under her bare feet, runes lighting up in response to her frequency shift. She lifted her arms, spreading them gracefully, and for a moment she looked like a dark temptress angel descending from the ceiling of hell’s opera house.
Then she lunged.
Her body blurred forward, wind splitting around her like she was cutting through the atmosphere. The tiles cracked sharply under her momentum, shards flying up around her ankles. Her hair whipped behind her in a trail of silver and violet, and the sound that followed was not a scream. It was a moan.
A long, breathless “Ahhhh~” that hit hard enough I felt it vibrate in my spine.
Nope. Not falling for that again.
I snapped my arm forward, the whip exploding outward with a violent crack that echoed like a gunshot. It wrapped around her torso, the shadow coils slamming tight across her ribs.
She gasped, back arching, chest thrust forward.
My brain nearly fried again.
She looked like I tied her for a dungeon photoshoot.
Her lips curved. “Ohhh~ rough. I like that.”
“I’m not here to audition for your OnlyFiends page,” I said through my teeth, yanking the whip hard to throw her off balance.
The force dragged her downward, slamming her knee into the ground. The impact sent a ripple through the platform, dust rising around her in a halo. Her hair fell forward over her face, shadowing her eyes. Then she looked up.
That look.
Holy void.
Lust. Murder. Playfulness.
All mixed like someone blended three genres of insanity and poured them into her pupils. She lifted her hands and traced her fingers along the whip wrapped around her chest, stroking it slowly. Every glide of her skin along the weapon sent a jolt into my palm like she was stroking my nerves directly.
“You’re holding me tight~” she whispered, voice trembling with fake innocence. Then she inhaled. Deep. Her chest rose high, pressed against the whip, pushing the threads of her almost‑bra to the limit of structural integrity.
My below stood up like a soldier ready to salute the flag.
Focus, Evan!
For the love of hell, focus!
I pulled the whip harder, forcing her closer, dragging her across the floor. She slid toward me, body curving like she rehearsed the movement in a mirror. The arena lights danced across her skin, sweat glistening like stars on water.
I lifted my free hand, ready to smash her rune while she was restrained. Mana surged into my palm, red and black sparks flickering violently.
One hit.
One punch.
And this round ends.
I Shadow Stepped.
For a blink, the world shattered. Darkness swallowed everything, sound vanished, gravity folded inward. Then I reappeared directly at her side, fist already swinging toward her chest where the glowing rune pulsed like a heartbeat waiting to be stopped.
But she moved.
Not a dodge.
A weapon.
She slapped me.
With her boobs.
Her huge.
Unfair.
Physics violating boobs.
The impact hit like a soft wrecking ball coated in perfume. My head snapped sideways so hard I heard my neck pop. I swear the mask dented against the pressure.
My vision blurred, stars exploding across the edges of my sight.
My brain yelled system reboot initializing. Even the whip fell slightly slack in my grip.
“What the—”
I staggered.
Before I could recover, she twisted her body like a gymnast and aimed a lightning‑fast kick straight at my below. The exact location every man instinctively safeguards with their life.
My lil guy screamed something like a tiny war cry from inside my pants. “NOT LIKE THIS!”
Reflex took over. I yanked just enough to shift my hips away. Her foot missed the holy temple by one centimeter.
ONE!
But it slammed full strength into my stomach instead.
The shockwave felt like getting hit by a truck full of dumbbells. Air blasted out of my lungs. My ribs rattled. My boots skidded backward across the cracked tiles.
[Damage Taken: 151]
I folded over slightly, hand instinctively cupping the sacred zone even though it survived. Every cell inside my body screamed in pain. I tried to breathe but everything burned. My throat tasted like blood and electricity. My spine felt like someone shoved a spear into it.
The arena was silent.
Just breathing.
Panting.
Ragged gasps from both of us.
Then the audience exploded like a stadium full of lunatics.
“NOOOO IT SHOULD BE ME!!!”
“SHE HIT HIS D**K, THAT’S A WAR CRIME!”
“I WANT HER TO HIT ME WITH HER BOOBIE TOO!”
“LET ME TAKE THE DAMAGE, I WILL GLADLY DIE FOR THE CAUSE!”
I wheezed.
“I hate all of you.”
Somewhere above, a familiar voice cracked through the noise.
Felix.
Of course.
“This is UNFAIR! I WANT THAT EXPERIENCE TOO!”
Adrian screamed next.
“HOW COME HE GETS BREAST BLUDGEONING? I TRAINED HARD TOO!!”
And Callahan.
Sweet broken Callahan.
He was on his knees. Hands gripping his hair like he was reenacting a tragic anime arc.
“WHYYYYYYYY??? WHY WASN’T IT ME??? I WORKED SO HARD FOR THIS!!!”
For a moment, everyone forgot this was a duel.
Everyone except her.
The banshee giggled, wiping sweat and shadow from her lips. She tilted her head slightly, voice sugary sweet.
“I almost got your lil guy~ I missed by just a tiny bit.”
I spat air that might have been a laugh or a dying noise.
“Shit… this is getting out of hand…”
She winked. “Want to try again?”
I straightened slowly, ribs screaming. I reformed the whip, the shadows twisting together with violent urgency. I tightened my grip so hard my knuckles popped.
The air thickened.
Magic hummed like a storm waiting to tear the arena apart.
My heart roared like a war drum.
“No more games,” I said. Low. Sharp. Dangerous.
“Oh~ I love that tone,” she purred. Her legs spread wider like she was inviting the devil to dinner. “Come claim me then.”
I lunged.
I didn’t run.
I shot forward, sprinting with mana igniting under my boots, tiles exploding behind me. The whip snapped forward like lightning, wrapping around her thigh and yanking her painfully off balance. She screamed again, that twisted seductive note that rattled the air.
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