Reborn as a Succubus: Time To Live My Best Life!-Chapter 343: Fitting In

Melisa’s legs still felt like overcooked noodles, but sitting around in Sirah’s tent wasn’t going to help her situation. She needed information. A layout of the camp. Potential escape routes. Anything.

[Time to see what kind of prison I’ve landed myself in.]

She pushed through the tent flap and stepped into the afternoon sun. The darian camp spread out before her like some bizarre mix of military fortress and hedonist paradise, like she’d seen before. Warriors sparred in dirt circles while others fucked against weapon racks. The casual brutality and sexuality existing side by side made her head spin.

A group of nim sat near a communal fire pit, and Melisa drifted toward them. Some looked... fine? Not happy exactly, but not miserable either. They wore simple tunics and had leather collars around their necks, each decorated with different colored stones.

One nim woman caught her eye immediately. Silver hair cascaded down to her ankles, and purple eyes watched Melisa approach with obvious disdain. Some kind of exotic animal—maybe a white ferret?—draped around her shoulders like a living scarf.

"Well, well," the woman purred, her voice dripping honey and poison. "That hair, those eyes... The famous nim mage graces us with her presence."

Melisa stopped a few feet away, keeping her expression neutral.

[Feels weird that they’ve heard about me... even this far out.]

"Just walking around."

"How delightful." The woman’s smile could’ve cut glass. "Tell me, does it feel good? Being the humans’ pet? Performing tricks for their amusement?"

Melisa raised a brow.

[Setting aside the fact that that’s not even true, but what? Is being a darian’s pet better?]

The other nim watched the exchange with varying degrees of interest. Some looked uncomfortable, others curious.

"I’m nobody’s pet," Melisa said evenly.

The silver-haired woman laughed, the sound tinkling like broken bells.

"No? You fight their wars, cast their spells, spread your legs for their approval. What else would you call it?"

Melisa’s fingers twitched.

[You hypocritical...]

One spell. That’s all it would take to turn this bitch into a pile of ash. The blue flame spell she’d invented would do nicely. Quick, clean, effective.

[No. Not worth it. Not yet.]

"I call it surviving," Melisa said instead.

"Surviving?" The woman stood, her ferret-thing chittering in annoyance at being disturbed. "Look around you, child. We’re thriving here. The darians understand our nature, our needs. They don’t shame us for what we are."

"They also don’t let you leave," Melisa pointed out, holding back a smirk.

The woman’s purple eyes flashed dangerously.

"And where would we go? Back to Syux? To be collared and leashed by humans who see us as nothing more than—"

"Enough."

The deep voice cut through the tension like a blade. A darian warrior approached, her scarred face set in a scowl. She wore more armor than most, intricate designs etched into the metal.

"Lirae," the warrior said, addressing the silver-haired nim. "Leave the new one alone."

Lirae’s entire demeanor shifted. The hostility melted away, replaced by something sultry and inviting.

"Of course, Kasha. Whatever you say."

What happened next made Melisa’s brain short-circuit.

Lirae grabbed Kasha by the armor straps and yanked her down into a kiss that belonged in the filthiest brothel in existence. Tongues, teeth, moaning—the works. Kasha’s hands disappeared under Lirae’s tunic, groping and squeezing while Lirae ground against the warrior’s thigh.

[Holy shit. Get a tent.]

The kiss went on. And on. Other nim watched with mild interest, like this was perfectly normal Tuesday entertainment. Melisa found herself counting seconds just to have something to do besides stare.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, they broke apart. Lirae’s lips were swollen, her silver hair mussed. Kasha looked ready to throw her over a shoulder and find the nearest flat surface.

"Come," Kasha said, voice rough with arousal. "I have need of you."

"Always," Lirae purred, shooting Melisa one last superior look before following the warrior away.

Melisa rolled her eyes so hard she almost saw her own brain.

[Well. That was educational.]

She turned away from the fire pit, leaving the other nim to their own devices. None of them seemed interested in talking to her anyway.

The camp bustled with activity—warriors sharpening weapons, hauling supplies, drilling formations. She tried to look casual, just another body moving through the crowd. Her lack of a collar drew some looks, but most darians seemed more interested in their own business.

[Where to go, where to go...]

A familiar cluster of tents caught her attention. The larger, more elaborate ones where she’d been taken to meet the Council. Voices drifted from that direction, low and serious.

Melisa angled her path, keeping to the shadows between tents. As she got closer, the voices became clearer.

"—losses were heavier than expected," a gruff male voice said. "Seven dead, twelve wounded."

"The mage did that?" Another voice, female this time.

"Her and the others. They fight differently than regular Syux soldiers."

"Magic," someone spat. "Coward’s weapon."

"Effective weapon," the first voice corrected. "We need to adjust our tactics."

Melisa crept closer, finding a spot behind a supply wagon where she could hear without being seen. Through the wheels, she could make out legs and boots—at least five darians, all in heavy armor.

"What about the night raid?" the female voice asked. "Still proceeding?"

"Blood Sister wants to wait. See what the humans do first."

"Cautious. Unlike her."

"She has... distractions."

Several knowing chuckles. Melisa’s face burned, remembering exactly what kind of ’distractions’ Sirah had been enjoying.

"The prisoner could be useful," someone suggested. "Information about their defenses, their numbers."

"Blood Sister claims her. No touching without permission."

"Since when does she keep war prizes?"

"Since now, apparently."

More discussion followed—patrol schedules, supply concerns, arguments about battle formations. Melisa absorbed it all, filing away every detail.

She shifted position slightly, trying to get a better view of who was talking. Her foot scraped against a loose stone.

The conversation stopped.

"What was that?"

Melisa’s heart hammered against her ribs.

[Okay, time to go.]

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