Chapter 31. Assessment
Succubi Chapter 31. Assessment
After that "assessment stunt," training resumed.
One by one, students continued their individual evaluations—sparring, defending, demonstrating their combat instincts.
Some performed decently. Others struggled.
Me?
I was still half-listening—because I was sneaking another glance at Valor’s arena.
And I wasn’t the only one.
More than a few Arcana students still were watching from the corners of their eyes, clearly more interested in what was happening next door.
I couldn’t blame them.
Ares was seething, pacing back and forth while his instructor spoke to him.
Evelyn, meanwhile, had already moved on, completely ignoring him.
She had nothing else to prove.
Which, honestly, was probably pissing him off more than the actual loss.
I shook my head. ‘Yeah, that guy’s gonna explode sooner or later.’
Ares pacing like a caged lion was my afternoon entertainment, but I knew better than to stare too long. And just like that, my attention snapped back to my own arena when I realized something else was happening. Something way more dangerous than Ares and his bruised ego.
The instructor.
She was staring at me.
You know when someone looks at you, and you feel like a specimen under a microscope? Yeah. That was the stare. Not annoyed. Not mad. Just… that curious, “let’s poke it and see what happens” kind of stare.
I was pretty sure I was about to be poked.
I held back a snort, barely. My chest quivered from trying not to laugh.
And, of course, that subtle twitch of amusement on my face? It didn’t go unnoticed.
She tilted her head ever so slightly. Like a predator. Like a cat watching a mouse that just learned how to moonwalk.
And then—
-Fwump!
A low-level fireball floated toward me. Just hovered in the air like it was casual about being a literal ball of heat. I blinked. Was that... for me?
It sure was.
It zipped straight at my face.
I dodged without thinking, my body shifting with this weird fluid movement I didn’t remember having until recently.
Left foot slid, right shoulder dropped, and the fireball flew past me and splattered against the floor behind me in a neat, fiery splash. The air sizzled, and a bit of scorched mana residue stained the tile.
And then another.
And another.
Two. Three. Four.
Fireballs hovered and then hurled themselves at me, each a different size, angle, and speed.
I wasn’t even casting anything. I was just... moving. Pure instinct. Duck. Roll. Twist sideways. A little slow-mo moment just for flair. I heard one singe my hair.
I should’ve been terrified, but no. I was weirdly thrilled.
Because something in me had shifted. It wasn’t just that my reflexes were fast. No, I’d always been quick. But since my awakening last night, something else had sharpened. Like my entire nervous system leveled up. My reactions were tighter, my awareness felt enhanced. Like the world moved a little slower now, just enough for me to dance through chaos.
And apparently, I was doing such a good job dodging that—
Yeah, now the entire class stopped what they were doing.
People training? Gone. Illusory opponents? Paused.
All eyes were on me.
I side-stepped again and watched as a fireball skidded across the floor, leaving a blackened trail on the tiles.
Another hit a stone dummy behind me, and its head was left scorched black, a faint smoke curling from the impact point.
Okay. So harmless, but not soft.
I glanced toward Elise between dodges. I expected annoyance—like “why aren’t you using magic, idiot?” vibes.
But nah. She wasn’t mad. She looked... curious. Like she’d just found a new favorite science project. Her brow furrowed slightly. Not with frustration. With intrigue.
And that’s when I noticed it.
Above her.
A swarm.
I swear to whatever gods exist—there were at least fifty fireballs hovering above her like a halo made of pure nope.
They glowed with a low, orange-pink flicker, swaying ever so slightly, just waiting for a reason to move.
And then they started coming. One. By. One.
She was sending them at me individually. Not in a barrage. Not even two at once. No, she was manually controlling every single shot like a damn puppeteer. Which, on one hand, was super impressive. On the other hand— I was about to die.
But again, I didn’t. Somehow.
Because I kept moving. Left dodge. Shoulder duck. Spin-step. Low crouch. Backflip.
Okay, that backflip was unnecessary, but the crowd gasped, and I gotta give ‘em a show.
My boots skidded across the scorched floor, the scent of burnt mana stinging my nose. Each fireball that missed me left a kiss of heat against my skin. One clipped the hem of my coat, and I swear it screamed in agony as it burned.
My breath quickened, not from exhaustion, but from excitement. This was fun. And horrifying. But mostly fun.
The other students were now full-on whispering behind hands.
“Is he dodging all that without spells?”
“He hasn’t cast a single barrier yet!”
“Does he even know what defense magic is?”
“Shut up, I’m trying to count—twenty-seven, twenty-eight... oh my god—”
Meanwhile, I was practically dancing. My arms felt like they were moving on their own. My body twisted before I even knew where the next fireball was coming from. My instincts were on overdrive.
And Elise?
Still watching. Still smirking. Still controlling the firestorm above her head.
I swore I saw her lips move.
“Let’s test his floor control.”
‘Oh, you did not.’
The next set of fireballs came low, sweeping toward my legs. I jumped back, one foot snapping up, twisting sideways like I was in a fighting game. A blast nearly grazed my ankle and detonated behind me with a foosh. The heat licked up my calves, and I cursed under my breath.
“Okay,” I muttered between gritted teeth, “we’re making this personal now.”
I didn't even realize I’d said that out loud until I heard a soft laugh. Hers. Not cruel. Not mocking. Just… amused. Like she’d been waiting for me to get serious.
I locked eyes with her mid-roll, and something passed between us—a silent challenge.
She raised her hand again.
Fireballs circled.
And in that moment, I had a decision: dodge again? Or counter?
A grin crept onto my face. I didn’t cast anything yet. Didn’t need to. Not yet.
But I knew one thing—
If she wanted to know my limits.
She’d have to chase me there.
The next volley came faster. Still one by one, but with less pause in between. I could feel the tempo change. She was adjusting. Adapting.
That meant I had to do the same.
I threw my momentum forward, rolling under the next one and flipping to my feet. My boots hissed on the scorched ground, the heat biting at the soles. My heart pounded in my chest, but I wasn’t tired. Not yet.
She narrowed her eyes slightly, just for a split second. Maybe impressed. Maybe just calculating.
Then finally, the last fireball whizzed past my shoulder and hit the arena wall with a crack, sending a wave of hot air rushing past my cheek.
Silence fell again.
All fifty? Dodged.
I stood there, hands on my knees, panting a little—but grinning. My coat was singed at the ends, sweat beading on my brow, but otherwise? I was fine.
No spells cast. No injuries. Just pure instinct, reflex, and legs that really didn’t want to be lit on fire today.
Elise finally lowered her hand. The last spark of mana dispersed like smoke in the air.
She didn’t say anything at first. She just wrote something on her clipboard.
Then looked at me with that faint, knowing smirk.
“…Not bad, Evan.”
I blinked. “That’s it?”
She lifted an eyebrow. “Would you like a medal?”
“…A smoothie at least?” I muttered.
Instructor Elise actually smirked—just a little. “Fine,” she said, her voice smooth and slightly amused. “You survive this round, I’ll treat you to one.”
I blinked. “Wait, what do you mean survive this round—?”
“Now counter my spells,” she cut me off, already lifting her hand like some elegant, terrifying arcane artillery system.
And sure enough—fwump—there they were again.
A set of those familiar, low-level fireballs materialized around her, bobbing in the air like innocent floating orbs. Except they were anything but innocent. I knew better by now.
“Huh? With what?” I asked, hands up like I’d just walked into the wrong end of a summoning circle.
Seriously, it felt like getting told to bring a spoon to a sword fight.
I wasn’t about to throw Death Wave at one fireball at a time. That would be… overkill. No. Mega overkill. Like lighting a candle with a grenade.
The moment I hesitated, the first fireball zipped toward me.
Instinct kicked in—I dodged. Again. Fluid step to the right, shoulder low, hair catching a little too much heat for comfort.
“Counter it, Evan!” Elise’s voice cracked like a whip across the training field.
‘Ugh, fine.’
Another fireball shot my way, and yeah, dodging was my thing. It was easier. Natural. Like breathing after someone lights a match in my face.
But that’s when it clicked. That’s what she was trying to teach me. Not to just dodge. Not to tank it. But to respond. Creatively.
I had the instincts. I had the power. But what I lacked? Control. Versatility. Sustainability.
Because yeah, my Death Wave could wipe a dozen opponents—but it’d also wipe my mana pool.
‘So she’s forcing me to find a middle ground,’ I realized. Something in between my usual overkill arsenal and… well, not dying.
I clicked my tongue and growled under my breath. “Alright, alright…”
Another fireball barreled toward me. This time, I didn’t dodge.
Instead, I lifted my hand, and called out—“Shadow Slash!”
Dark energy surged through me, familiar and sharp, forming the usual condensed blade of darkness.
But—
This time, I didn’t swing it.
I held it in my hand, stared at it, and without thinking too hard—shaped it.
I imagined not just one blade… but multiple.
A mental picture bloomed… sleek, black throwing knives made of pure condensed shadow, pulsing with dark energy and vibrating like they wanted to shred reality itself.
And just like that…
Ding!
My system notification chimed.
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