Chapter 39. No One Argues With The Medic
Succubi Chapter 39. No One Argues With The Medic
The East Wing smelled like sweat, polished stone, and a faint burning scent that probably came from whatever the fight was. Students crowded the hallway entrance, forming a slow-moving mass of people trying to peer through the arena’s glass wall. I elbowed my way through, bread in one hand, smoothie in the other.
The walls vibrated faintly—booming impacts echoing from inside. Cheers rose and fell like a sports match.
The arena itself was classic fantasy-meets-military. Hexagonal structure, mana-forged tiles, magic barriers sparking around the edges, and enchanted lighting that spotlighted the combatants.
And there they were.
Evelyn.Focused. Unmoving. In full assassin mode.She stood dead center with both hands gripping glowing hologram blades. Training type. Not the real deal, but still capable of delivering pain if Ares’ got cocky. Her stance was fluid, eyes sharp, knees slightly bent. Ready to strike like a coiled panther. No coat this time, just a sleek academy tank top and combat leggings. Girl meant business.
Leon.I hadn’t seen him use those in ages.Old-school training knuckles wrapped around his fists—basic metal reinforced with mana circuits, nothing fancy. And he wasn’t transformed. Still in his human form. Short black hair, sweat glistening on his forehead, shirt half-untucked like he got ambushed into this match. His stance? Loose. Casual. A little too casual.
Classic Leon. I grinned. Dude really had the “accidental badass” aesthetic down.
And then there was Ares.Still gleaming like he walked out of some overpriced RPG cash shop. A blindingly polished longsword that practically screamed, “Look at me! I’m holy!”, and an expression like the world owed him a medal.
His movements were deliberate, precise. Too precise.He wasn’t playing around anymore.
And right beside him—some other guy I’d never seen before.Lean build. Pale blue hair tied in a loose tail. Two short daggers, and his posture screamed agility main. He shifted his weight like he was used to dodging spells and breaking necks.
That was new.
I frowned. “Okay, mystery assassin sidekick. Cool.”
The arena looked like a war zone. Scuffed tiles and shattered magic barriers. Definitely halfway through the fight already.
Time to get a closer look.
“Excuse me—yep, pardon me. Coming through.” I began weaving through the crowd.
Not easy.Someone in a hoodie blocked my path and didn’t move. “Hey, I was here first, man.”Another voice added, “Yo, bro, you can’t just squeeze past. Go to the back row.”Someone else muttered, “Who even is this guy?”
I paused, sighed, then smiled sweetly.“I’m a healer,” I said in the softest, most innocent voice I could muster.
Bread between my teeth, I raised my hand and activated [Dark Healing]. A pulse of dark, misty energy swirled around my arm, faint tendrils of corrupted mana rising like wisps of shadow incense.
A few people leaned back.
“Whoa…”“Dude’s a support class?”“That’s not even holy healing, what kind of healing skill is that?”
-Click. Click. Tch.
They still clicked their tongues—but they moved.Hell yeah. No one argues with the medic. Especially one casually chewing baguette while casting questionable healing spells.
I slipped into the front row like a VIP with backstage passes. Plopped down onto the smooth arena steps and…
“Oh, Anomaly. You are here.”
The voice was soft. Dry. Sleepy.I turned.
Sera.
She sat with one leg draped lazily over the other, leaning against the arena railing like she was two seconds away from napping upright. Her hair half covered her face like she didn’t even try to brush it before leaving her last class. The shadows around her were comfy. Cozy. Like the arena had air-conditioned that corner just for her.
And her eyes?
Her eyes said one thing. “I wanted to go to bed, but Evelyn dragged me here.”
I nodded at her. “Hey, Sera. You watching them too?”
She let out a breath that was almost a sigh. “Yeah. Evelyn dragged me here. I was mid-nap.”
I held up my smoothie.
She blinked.
I leaned it toward her.
She reached out slowly. Like a sloth reaching for the last fruit on a very close branch.
Sipped once. Blinked again.
“…Thanks.”
No excitement. No change in expression. Just a lazy blink of appreciation like that smoothie restored 2 HP and she was cool with it.
‘Her sin affinity is definitely Sloth,’ I muttered.
Suddenly, the crowd roared.
I whipped my attention back to the arena.
Evelyn and the blue-haired rogue guy had just clashed blades—fast. But it was obvious from the start: the guy was nowhere near her level. His speed? Slower. His attacks? Predictable. Evelyn was toying with him. Every time he lunged, she was already gone, dancing circles around him like this was practice, not combat.
So, I shifted my gaze to Leon.
Ares was circling toward Leon now, clearly trying to bait him into a one-on-one.
Leon? He bounced on his heels like he was warming up for gym class. “You sure you wanna do this, Shiny?” he asked.
“Your jokes won’t save you,” Ares growled.
“Oh thank god,” Leon replied. “I was running out anyway.”
Then he charged.No transformation. No build-up. Just fists. Straight at a sword user.
I nearly choked on my smoothie. “Dumbass.”
Sera shook her head.
The clash was messy.Leon ducked under the first swing, jabbed Ares in the gut with both knuckles, rolled sideways to avoid a follow-up slash, and kicked him in the thigh just hard enough to make the knight stumble.
Ares snarled. “You fight like a drunk goblin.”
Leon grinned. “You look like a drunk goblin. We’re twins!”
I was laughing.
Ares, clearly not.
He powered up his blade, the runes along the steel flaring gold—bright enough to make the mana around him ripple like heat on asphalt.
“Watch it,” I whispered.
Because yeah, this was the part where cocky turned into stupid.
Leon didn’t flinch. He rolled his shoulders once, cracking his neck like he was warming up for a gym selfie. The knuckles on his fists glowed faint blue—basic mana surge. No transformations. No claws. Just bare hands and dumb courage.
Ares pointed his blade at him, voice cold. “I’ll break your arms first. Then your ego.”
Leon just wiggled his eyebrows. “My ego regenerates. Unlike your sense of humor.”
And then they moved.
Ares lunged first, sword slicing in a clean horizontal arc meant to cleave Leon’s side open like butter. But Leon ducked—quick and low—skimming under the blade like it was a limbo stick.
His fist shot upward.
Right into Ares’s ribs.
-THWACK.
A grunt escaped Ares. He staggered half a step.
“Oh?” Leon said, cocky now. “That easy?”
Ares swung again—faster this time. Leon stepped back, then dodged again as the sword cut a burning arc through the air.
“Sonic Slash!”
“Damn,” I muttered, eyes locked on the fight.
The sound was crisp—metal hissing, feet scraping against the mana-forged tile. Every hit echoed like thunder trapped in a box.
Ares tried to cut downward. Leon stepped inside his guard—again—and threw a body shot to his stomach, then ducked and threw an uppercut that clanged off the underside of Ares’s helmet.
“Dude,” I laughed. “He’s boxing a knight.”
Sera, barely awake beside me, murmured, “Let him cook.”
Ares growled—frustration flaring behind his eyes. “Fight like a man!”
Leon, already sidestepping, tossed back, “You’re the one swinging a glowstick around like a failed Jedi!”
Ares roared. He twisted mid-swing, bringing his full body behind a vicious horizontal slash—
Leon blocked it.With his forearm.Covered in a thin shimmer of energy.
His feet skidded back. Dust kicked up around his boots. But he was still standing.
I blinked. “No way. He used a werewolf skill in human form.”
Sera grunted. “Half-blood can do that. But it hurts.”
Leon hissed softly, shaking out his arm like it stung. “Ow. Okay, that one counts.”
Ares wasn’t done. He surged forward again, swinging in quick succession—left, right, diagonal, thrust. He was fast. Too fast for a knight. That blade wasn’t just decoration—it was enchanted to keep up.
Leon blocked one, ducked under the next, and rolled to the side—barely avoiding the last. He flung a punch that grazed Ares’s cheek.
Blood.
Ares touched his face in disbelief. A single red smear on his glove.
Leon smirked. “Hey, look! You do bleed.”
Ares’s aura flared. Literal holy energy burst outward from him like a geyser of light.
“Divine Flame Aura!”
His blade ignited.
“Oh shit,” I muttered, leaning forward.
Sera sighed. “That’s gonna be annoying.”
Leon’s grin faltered for half a second. “Okay, I take back the last comment. You’re clearly more of a glowstick warrior with anger issues.”
Ares didn’t laugh.
He charged.
This time, the blade dragged sparks with every swing. Leon couldn’t dodge all of them anymore—he started taking hits. A shallow slash on the thigh. A graze along the ribs. Ares was forcing him back, pinning him near the edge of the arena.
Leon panted. Sweat ran down his cheek, plastering his hair to his forehead. “Okay. Okay. Enough jokes.”
I blinked. “Wait. Is he finally—”
His smile widened. “Time to get serious.”
He howled.
Not loud. Not long. But enough.
His bones cracked. His skin pulsed.
[Skill: Half-Shift – Werewolf Form Activated (Partial)][Duration: 45 seconds][Boosts: +20% STR, +25% AGI, +15% HP Regen]
His eyes glowed yellow. Canines elongated. Nails darkened into claws—but only halfway. His form didn’t go full beast. He was blending it.
“That’s new,” I muttered.
Sera tilted her head. “Stylish.”
Leon darted forward—fast now. Very fast.
He ducked low, blurred past Ares, and landed a roundhouse to his back that made the knight skid forward. The floor cracked.
“Not bad,” Leon said. “Let’s see if the shiny armor makes a good drum set.”
He spun. Comboed three strikes. One-two-jab. Another roundhouse. Then an elbow to the gut.
Ares grunted, raising his sword to block.
Too slow.
Leon dropped and swept his legs.
The knight toppled.
The arena lost it.
Even some of Ares’s usual fans stood up like “Yo what just happened—”
Leon didn’t waste time. He pounced on him, fists flying in rapid fire.
Every hit echoed through the arena like a drumline.
Ares screamed and blasted holy mana outward in desperation. The shockwave launched Leon off, sending him tumbling.
They both rolled to opposite sides, panting.
Ares stood, armor cracked, sword glowing unstable.
Leon rose, bleeding, one eye swelling—but grinning like a psycho. “Round two?”
“Why are you like this?” Ares spat.
Leon shrugged. “I have good friends. And bad ideas.”
Ares raised his blade, now wreathed in golden flame. “Then I’ll break both.”
They clashed again. This time, it wasn’t just strength vs. speed—it was style vs. rage.
Leon slipped through Ares’s guard more than once, tagging him in the ribs, neck, and knee. Ares landed heavier hits, but fewer. Each one made Leon reel—but the bastard kept laughing.
Evelyn glanced over once from her own fight. She didn't say anything—but I swore her mouth twitched. Like she was proud.
Finally, Ares overcommitted. Big, two-handed downward cleave.
Leon sidestepped, twisted, and— Piercing Uppercut.
Ares dropped to a knee, groaning.
Leon leaned down next to him.
“Told you. Twins.”
And then flopped onto his back.
Breathing hard. Smiling wide.
Ares didn’t move.
The match was over.
The crowd was screaming.
Even I stood up. “YEAHHH!”
Sera raised a hand. “Good job,” she mumbled like she was toasting in her dreams.
Evelyn finally walked over, casually wiping her hands. She looked down at both of them—one wrecked from exhaustion, one wrecked from pride.
“Idiots,” she said fondly.
Leon raised a thumb. “Worth it.”
And I sat back down, half a baguette in one hand, muttering, “Best arena match I’ve ever seen.”
No doubt about it.
This academy?
Already shaping up to be the most chaotic thing that’s ever happened to me.
And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
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