Reborn as a Succubus: Time To Live My Best Life!-Chapter 277: Loyalty, Part Thirty-Five

Armia wove magic and steel together. Her blade caught a warrior's sword while her free hand traced another spellsign in the air.

"Glaciar, sub pedimus!"

Ice spread across the forest floor, catching one of her opponents mid-charge. His feet went out from under him, armor clanking as he crashed down.

[Not so tough when you can't plant your feet, huh?]

She noticed something about these darian. These warriors fought like they were invincible. Like their strength and size made them unstoppable.

In other words, they were arrogant.

"Terra spina eruptio!"

Stone spikes erupted from the ground, forcing her remaining opponents to dodge awkwardly. The motion brought one right into her sword's path. She opened his arm from elbow to wrist, earning a roar of pain and rage.

Around her, the rest of the unit was barely holding their own. A lot of these human recruits weren't prepared for darian strength, for the sheer brutality of warriors who could crush stone with their bare hands.

[Good thing I'm here, huh?]

"Tempestas fulgur catena!"

Lightning arced between three warriors advancing on a group of overwhelmed soldiers. They went down twitching, armor smoking.

For a moment, there was a pause. A couple of humans stood by Armia. The darians up ahead snarled and growled.

Then, a horn sounded somewhere in the trees. The darians hesitated, glancing toward the noise.

The warriors began withdrawing.

[Oh thank the gods,] Armia thought. [I was running out of clever ways to not die.]

She kept her sword up until the last scaled form disappeared into the forest. Only then did she let herself feel the burning in her muscles, the trembling in her bones from blocking those massive strikes.

[... They hit really hard.]

"Well," the commander managed from where two soldiers were helping him stand. Blood stained his shoulder where the arrow had struck, but he was grinning. "That was exciting."

[That's one word for it,] Armia thought, finally lowering her blade. Her arms felt like overcooked noodles.

"Good work, everyone," he continued, wincing as someone examined his wound. "Especially you, Duskscale. Nice spellwork."

Armia nodded, too tired to form words. Around her, soldiers were checking injuries, helping the wounded, counting ammunition. The forest floor was scarred with ice and stone spikes, scorch marks from her lightning.

"Take stock," the commander ordered. "Wounded first, then equipment. I want to know exactly what we lost here."

[Besides our dignity,] Armia thought, finally sheathing her sword.

She looked around at the aftermath – blood on leaves, broken weapons, horses scattered to the winds.

Her first real combat, her first taste of what actual war felt like.

[Just need to survive a few more of these and I can go home.]

Assuming, of course, that the darians didn't come back with reinforcements. Or that the next batch of warriors wasn't better prepared for a spellcasting darian fighting alongside humans.

[Though really,] she thought as she moved to help the wounded, [they should be more worried about the fact that I'm fucking pissed about having to be here at all.]

---

{Melisa}

Melisa pressed her advantage, both magical and physical. Her thigh slid between Rax's legs as she leaned in close, letting her pheromone-enhanced charm do its work.

"Tell me about Professor Folden's house," she purred, channeling her inner Margaret. "About the attack."

The spell had Rax's pupils blown wide, his breath coming in short gasps. Each point of contact between them seemed to intensify the effect, making him more desperate to please her, to prove himself worthy.

"The manor?" His voice was thick with magically-induced desire. "I... I didn't order that."

[Bullshit,] Melisa thought, but kept her expression interested, inviting. She pressed her thigh up slightly, drawing a strangled sound from his throat.

"No?" She traced a finger down his chest. "You swear you didn't have anything to do with the attack?"

"I didn't," Rax replied confidently. Horny as hell, but confident.

Melisa was stunned.

[Wait, what?] She thought, looking into those lust-drunk pupils.

That had not been what she'd been expecting to hear. And, given that this same spell had uncovered centuries' worth of secrets from Queen Melara, Melisa wasn't buying the idea that the spell was just ineffective or something.

She couldn't do anything but take Rax at his word. But, she could also ask...

"But you know who did?"

"Not... not exactly." He swallowed hard. "I might have... mentioned something. To someone."

[Ah, there we go.]

"Tell me," she breathed against his ear, even as her mind raced. This wasn't the confession she'd expected, but it was something.

"Was drinking with... with Koros," Rax managed. His hands had found her hips, grip almost painful with restraint. "He asked about Melistair. Since he's that Blackflame girl's father. I... I might have mentioned where he lived."

Melisa's heart skipped.

[So... He did do it? Vira swore he hadn't. And, with my pheromones on her, I doubt she lied... Or, was she not aware that Koros did it? Did he keep the attack hidden from her? Swore that he had nothing to do with it when he did?]

She'd have to keep asking questions.

"And?"

"I might have told him... might have told him everything." The words tumbled out now, pushed by charm and lust and the need to confess. "How Melistair lives with the human mage. How his whole family stays there. Didn't think... didn't think he'd..."

[So... This is the truth?]

If Melisa could trust her spell to drag out the truth, and she felt she could, then Rax was really not the mastermind. Not even really involved.

Just a drunk friend running his mouth to the wrong person at the wrong time.

[Really? He had nothing to do with it?]

"Can you..." She kept her voice sultry even as her mind processed this new information. "Can you remember why you may have told him? If you did, I mean."

"Was probably proud," Rax's voice cracked slightly. "Proud my friend... my friend was doing so well. Living in a noble's house. Wanted to... to brag about..."

He trailed off as Melisa shifted against him, the movement purely automatic as she thought through implications.

[So... Dad's best friend didn't try to murder us,] she realized. [He just accidentally painted a target on our backs by bragging about our success.]

Somehow, that felt both better and worse than what she'd suspected.

She could see it now. Rax, drunk and proud, telling his drinking buddy about his successful friend. Not realizing he was giving targeting information to someone who'd use it to hurt that same friend.

The source of this c𝓸ntent is freewebnøvel.coɱ.

[Well fuck.]