Ch 10 – How can I come to terms with being a succubus when so many cute, err, I mean terrible things keep distracting me?!

Blood.

I drink blood.

My boots stomped against the floor as I pressed forward through the halls, ignoring anyone I passed.

It didn’t make sense. Vampires were supposed to drink blood, and they were a notably different sort of demon to succubi, despite some superficial similarities. So why did I do so as well? Was there something unique about me, or was this typical for my—their—kind? Were I to guess based on Lilis’s reaction, I had to believe it was normal. She certainly hadn’t seemed particularly surprised or offended.

But then why wouldn’t the texts I read have mentioned it? It seemed a rather important thing to note. Had it been removed? What purpose would that serve?

And what other knowledge am I missing?

The one certainty I had was that I felt more alive now than I ever had before. Magic rushed through my veins, pooling inside of me like a potent elixir of might. I felt powerful, like I could take on almost anyone. Though I wasn’t fool enough to actually believe that. Even still, a suspiciously familiar sensation pushed against my mind, some form of magic attempting to bore itself back within. The trickle of mana it took to hold the spell off was slowly, yet persistently increasing. It had to be the doing of that demon. How long could I continue to keep her out?

As I tread out into one of the school’s larger gardens, a boy paused a few feet away, eyeing me. He stepped in my direction, and a low growl rolled up from deep in my throat. I bared my teeth at him, and he jolted back. Wisely, the younger man turned to take a wide circle around me, quickly scurrying on his way.

I unclenched my fists, and stomped forward. Word would probably be spreading by now, though I hoped my appearance as an unbound and potentially dangerous demon would sway people from bothering me—at least for a short time. The more immediate question burning my mind was what to do about Lilis. If I truly just drank blood, why had she…

My mind drifted back to her toppling me over, fingers sliding against sensitive skin. I shook the image from my head.

The woman had gone too far.

And I’d been foolish enough to let her. The strange state of mind I’d been in was no excuse. Nor was my ignorance. I should have never allowed things to go on as they had—to allow such a weakness to take hold over me. I just sat there and let her dominate and toy with me, giving barely a word of protest.

My legs wobbled as a now very familiar feeling dripped down from my chest to my crotch. Even now, fully satiated and overflowing with mana as I was, that newfound weakness pervaded.

Lust.

I’d never thought it would be something that would affect me. It had certainly never been an issue before. Though I supposed at least some part of the rumors around succubi held true. And Lilis knew precisely how to exploit it, a fact she’d proven quite clearly. The Thorn Princess had me wrapped around her fingers in mere minutes.

Another growl formed in my throat as a building rage coursed through me. Like an idiot, I’d let my guard down, assuming I had everything under control. The truth was I’d never been so vulnerable in my life. My defenses were full of unforeseen holes. Worse, any diabolist in the school would likely be well versed in how to pierce them.

As my mind drifted to lewder thoughts, I smacked my cheeks. Behind me, my tail lashed out, and I felt a breeze flow up beneath my skirt, threatening to lift it and reveal so much more. With deft fingers, I tugged it down, eyeing the open garden around me for any hidden onlookers. Seeing no one, I let out a huff.

At least my tail doesn’t push the skirt up.

I turned, trying to eye the hole it stuck out from as the fiendish appendage swayed side to side. Supposedly, this was the only bit of apparel that Lilis owned with some type of opening for my tail to fit through. It also happened to be one of the shortest skirts she had, the hem of it so high that it nearly revealed the lower edge of my ass.

I glared down at the fabric, tugging at it once more. At least I hoped it went that far down… How this counted as school-appropriate, I hadn’t a clue. Between the skirt, a surprisingly loose blouse, and my knee-high socks, I felt nearly as naked as I had to begin with. Nearly.

At least it was cute. I glanced down once more. Wait, no. What am I thinking? Why would I care how cute it is?

I let out a sigh. Couldn’t she just give me something more boyish?

I supposed it was better than nothing, even if it was likely the shortest skirt she had. I grumbled under my breath, cursing the woman as the administrative building got gradually closer. Hugging the dark railing, I glided up the steps, avoiding eye contact with the woman going the opposite direction.

In some ways, it was fortunate that the provost sent the arcwrit to Lilis’s room, or rather, our room. For now. My new roommate had numerous prying questions, ones I very much didn’t want to answer. The provost’s summons had caught me off guard when it appeared so suddenly in front of me, hovering in the air for a moment before falling to the floor as simple parchment. Though while it helped me to avoid her probing, it also left me with little time to protest the girlish and skimpy outfit she’d handed over.

That the provost wanted to see me so soon likely meant he had things to say that he didn’t want the rest of the consulum to hear. The thought didn’t sit well, preying on my already frayed nerves.

Alas, I couldn’t simply ignore the message, and thus took the opportunity to avoid Lilis’s probing questions as I got dressed—with some small help.

The administrative hall was lined with armor, each a unique style of platemail and surprisingly well maintained. I recognized them quickly as relics of the past, from the Velkli Order Crusades over six decades ago. When I finally reached the familiar office, one which I’d seen just once, I hesitated. Slowly my hand rose, preparing to knock. My body felt tense, on edge, to the point where even my newly grown tail hesitated. I doubted that whatever the powerful mage wanted would be good for me.

Just as I gathered the will to knock, the door made a click. It eased open with an eerie silence, inviting me within.

With a gulp, I stepped over the threshold into the provost’s seating room. A door stood to my left and right, one leading to his office proper. The other I wasn’t certain of. My eyes scanned over the room. For the most part, it was fairly normal. An immaculate couch and several chairs stood in a loose circle around a large coffee table atop a red and white rug. It felt homey, in a sort of stiff and regal way. Along the walls was where the room became odder.

A large tank full of some kind of opaque black liquid bubbled, taking up a large corner of the room. To the side stood a tall shelf filled with skulls, herbs, and other alchemical ingredients, along with several books. It seemed almost normal, were it not for the strange shadow that lingered around its edges, wafting off the old, knotted wood. Along the back wall was a large window looking over the garden, shadowed by dark curtains. The glass within was so full of mana that I could just make out the visible shimmer it produced through the light. The ceiling of the room was high, but covered in intricate lines and runes that formed a massive circle around the central chandelier. Were I to guess at a glance, I’d assume it to be some type of protective enchantment to keep out intruders. I doubted that I’d have time to study it, however. Overall, the room felt a bit cluttered, but not overly crowded, displaying some of the paintings and displays he’d likely collected over the years.

All things I wouldn’t dare touch with bare, unprotected hands.

“Please, have a seat.”

The voice made me jump, my gaze immediately narrowing in on the provost sitting along the couch, sipping what appeared to be tea.

I’d been certain that the room was empty. Had he teleported in? Or was it possible that he’d been there the whole time, some form of magic obscuring his presence. It was difficult to tell.

With a nervous nod, I stepped forward, and sat in a soft chair opposite him. “You sent for me, Provost Selvune?”

Once more, the soft voice that passed from my lips caught me off guard. It seemed I still wasn’t yet used to it, despite how familiar it was becoming.

“Yes, I’d hoped for a moment to speak with you before the arbiter arrived, but perhaps this is for the better.”

My breath caught, eyes widening as my body froze. The arbiter is coming?

As the room fell once more into silence, I listened and to my horror, could just faintly make out the light jingle of chimes. The sound of slow, heavy steps soon followed, gradually becoming louder. I gulped and turned to stare out the door into the hall.

An arbiter of Mir, Goddess of Death, had been with the school since its founding several hundred years ago—back when the Shadow Families truly lived in the kingdom’s shadows. Whether it was the same arbiter or not seemed up for debate, at least among the other students. What was certain, however, was that their presence was one of the few reasons the academy still stood. The arbiter represented both Mir’s blessing and her scrutiny. The kingdom and its nobility did not dare risk her ire. And so the school was safe. Mostly.

That the arbiter was on the way to see me did not bode well, to put it lightly. With all that had been going on, there was one aspect to becoming a demon that I had yet to consider. Demons were said to be effectively immortal.

And Mir despised those who tried to cheat death.

As the chimes became louder and the steps approached the door, I shot up out of the chair with barely a thought. My eyes darted around the room, searching for an escape. The mystery door caught my eye, and without pause, I bolted toward it.

My feet made it two steps before a hand hit my shoulder, gripping painfully into it and halting me.

“I asked you to sit, did I not?” the provost said from my left, his tone casual.

Being so close to him, I could feel the mana leaking from his body like a thick soup in the air. A leaden weight seemed to press down onto me, threatening to drag me to the floor. As much as I wanted to break away and continue, it took all I had to just keep standing, my legs wobbling beneath me.

I shuddered as the breath I’d been holding finally escaped. My gaze turned as a figure entered from the hall. He ducked through the door to allow in his oversized pack. It seemed almost attached to his back, its metal spikes digging into his sides like claws. The strangely shaped box appeared to be almost a part of him. Certainly, none had ever seen an arbiter of Mir without one. Despite its size, he stood fully upright, without a hunched back, as though the obvious weight was nothing to him.

The arbiter was a tall and bulky man—if he could still be considered human. I wasn’t sure to what extent his size was due to his strange equipment and armor versus what was ‘natural.’ Every part of his body was covered in rough blackened leather and the weathered fabric of what was probably once a priestly robe and cowl, even his face and hands. Only his two eyes peeked out from the thick bronze mask—a black line down its center. His gray irises held a dull sense of emptiness to them, as though I was looking into the lifeless gaze of a corpse.

The massive coffin-like box on his back held an assortment of strange artifacts and weapons along its sides, some which clinked and tapped against each other with every step. Its upper-half twisted upward, forming a curve of wood and metal over his head. The iconic ‘Chimes of Mir’ hung down in front of him off two bones carved into pointed spikes, jingling as he slid forward.

His eyes met my own, and the nameless arbiter stopped a couple meters away. As the weight of the provost’s spell melted off of me, my muscles stiffened for an entirely different reason, frozen solid beneath the being’s gaze.