Succubi Chapter 119. I Stand by My Stupidity
Mana crackled at my fingertips, heavy and warm, humming through the air like a threat waiting to be spoken. The necromancer lunged first, broad muscles rolling, boots slamming into the platform with enough force to make the metal ring. He swung his bone chain down toward my head, the links glowing pale blue like frozen lightning.
I didn't wait.
I moved.
Fast.
My body blurred, instincts snapping like taut wire. I dropped low, sliding beneath the swing. The chain cut through the air above, cold wind brushing the top of my head. My foot hit the ground. I pivoted and dashed to the side, the sigils on the floor lighting up under each step like stepping on glass made of moonlight.
He reacted instantly, snapping the chain back and swinging again.
I ducked under it again.
And again.
And again.
To the crowd, it probably looked like I was breakdancing for my life.
But the necromancer didn't stop. He stepped forward, closing the gap, and snarled, "You move well for a kid."
I twisted, momentum carrying me past him. "Thanks," I replied.
He didn't laugh.
His eyes glowed white for a moment.
And everything went wrong very fast.
Shadow ripples spread across the ground like spilled ink. I felt them before I saw them. Cold. Rotten. Mana that smelled like old soil and grave dust.
Then the dead rose.
Undead.
Not one.
Not two.
Dozens.
Skeletal hands burst upward through the platform's illusionary layer, shimmering into existence one by one. Bone claws clicked. Jawbones clattered. Some still had scraps of robes or armor attached, like whatever they used to be before he shoved life back into them.
They surrounded me in a semicircle, hissing with silent hatred.
The necromancer cracked his shoulders. "I wasn't planning to use this. Figured you were just a kid."
Behind my mask, I grinned. "I'm not just a kid."
But yeah, okay, sure. I am still first semester of Archeline Battle Academy. But that was Archeline. Nobody gets in without being top-tier in their school. Everyone here, even the "newbies," are monsters. Trained. Deadly. Some had mana cores awakened at twelve. Some fought beasts in their backyard. Some had noble bloodlines.
And me?
Well. My high school knew I was a trouble, but also knew better than to get in my way.
No wonder the necromancer was surprised. I could fight like a Valor, tank like a Titan, and throw magic like an Arcana. Most people were lucky to excel in one. The necromancer seemed like pure Arcana type, big spells, undead control, lots of mana. But he bulked up his physique too. Probably because close combat is a necromancer's greatest weakness.
And yeah… I planned to exploit that.
Of course, it might end with me getting chokeslammed into the floor, but hey, risks.
He pointed his finger at me.
The undead lunged.
I didn't hesitate.
I ran straight at them.
Bones clattered. Teeth snapped. A skull with glowing sockets leaped for my face. I swerved to the right, then vaulted over the next one. I kept moving. Kept weaving. I didn't want to waste energy on these cheap minions.
Though ironically enough, the only thing that looked like a minion here?
Me.
Alphabet mask. Black suit. Glossy boots.
I looked like I reshelved books in a library basement.
One undead grabbed my arm, jaw opening to bite.
Another skeletal hand grabbed my ankle.
I stumbled.
Oh hell no.
Its bony fingers dug into my ankle.
"Don't you dare touch that!" I shouted, but the undead's grip tightened.
I threw the polearm toward the necromancer.
Literally threw it like I was playing javelin in the Olympics.
His undead protected him and died in a heroic act.
"Nice try," he said.
Okay. That was unexpected.
I didn't panic.
I Shadow Stepped.
The world inverted. Everything stretched into streaks of dark and light. My vision snapped into dim grayscale, space folding around me like a cloak.
I blinked…
And appeared behind him. Again.
He turned, eyes widening just enough to give me satisfaction.
I summoned new blades instantly.
[Shadow Blade – Dual Blades]
Two blades. Midnight metal. Serrated edges. Each one humming with hunger.
I swung forward, aiming for his back… not his rune, which glowed smack in the center like a bullseye.
But…
Bone walls erupted around him.
Four thick slabs burst from the floor, forming a box-like shield. My blades smashed against them, cracking bone and sending chips flying like dust. Sparks of magic crackled where my mana met his.
The walls shattered.
He stumbled backward.
His chest rose and fell, muscles tight. His eyes narrowed.
"Kid— the rune is on my chest. Why do you look like you're trying to kill me? You keep targeting my back."
I cringed internally.
Oops.
I forgot this wasn't a deathmatch.
I lowered my blades half an inch. "Yeah, yeah, I'll remember that."
He huffed, more confused than angry. "You're insane."
"Academically gifted," I corrected.
The crowd roared from outside the barrier.
The undead circled again, growling low. Their footsteps clinked like hollow drums. Bone fingers twitched. A skull rolled across the ground from the earlier explosion and bumped my boot, staring up at me with glowing eyes of judgment.
"Stop looking at me like that," I muttered, kicking it aside.
I lunged forward.
He countered.
Undead surged.
I dodged the first two, ducking under their reaching arms. The third leaped, jaw wide.
[Skill Activated Death Wave]
I slammed my foot down, sending a pulse of dark mana through the ground. The closer undead exploded into fragments, bones scattering like someone broke an expensive Halloween decoration.
The necromancer jumped to the side, avoiding the blast. His cloak fluttered behind him, revealing thick runed gauntlets. He raised his hands, forming more sigils in the air.
I didn't let him finish.
I sprinted, fast enough the platform blurred under my feet.
He shot a bolt of sickly green mana at me.
I vaulted over it, flipping in the air, coat snapping around my legs. The rune beneath my collarbone glowed faintly with movement, right side.
He looked at it mid-air.
His eyebrow rose.
"…Why is your rune there?"
"Artistic choice," I said.
"That's stupid."
"I stand by my stupidity."
I landed and slid toward him, blades flashing. He blocked with his gauntlets. The impact rattled my bones. He pushed me back a few steps, his strength surprising even with all that muscle.
The audience reacted loudly—ooohs and wows rippling through the arena.
I grinned behind my mask.
He realized it.
"You're enjoying this," he said, incredulous.
"A little."
He groaned. "Kids."
"Old men."
His eye twitched.
Then he snapped his fingers.
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