Reborn as a succubus - Chapter 12

After Xi Che left Rong Shi’s quarters, a sudden flash of golden light flickered in the empty corridor. Chu Yan, dressed in golden gauze robes, appeared there.

He had seen everything that just happened inside the room. He naturally recognized the person on the memorial tablet and also saw the mark on the back of it—that belonged to Asa. But how could such a young human know about Asa, and even react so emotionally?

The more he thought about it, the stranger it seemed. Although he couldn’t figure out the connection for now, he knew he must keep a close watch on this person. But walking around the mortal world in the form of a god was not convenient; he couldn’t possibly remain invisible every single day.

After some thought, he walked into Rong Shi’s quarters again. When he came back out, he had already transformed into a young man wearing the Yujing Academy uniform.

He glanced once more in the direction Xi Che had gone and quickly followed.

—9 p.m., the gymnasium.

This person seemed to be hiding many secrets. Why not follow along and see?

In the hours that followed, Xi Che attended his afternoon classes as usual, then casually had dinner. Not until lights-out did he secretly climb out of bed and sneak out of his dorm, following the instructions on the note.

Fortunately, Yujing Academy provided single dorm rooms, so whatever he did wouldn’t disturb other students.

The academy had a long history, and since technology in this era wasn’t very advanced—far from allowing unlimited electricity in every home—once lights went out, everything outside became pitch dark.

The gym was in the basement level of the teaching building. At that hour, heading to the gym felt a little creepy.

To avoid drawing attention, Xi Che didn’t dare use a flashlight; instead he carried only a single candle for light.

Wasn’t this supposed to be the Academy of the God of Light? Yet at night, the halls were completely dark—how very un-“lightlike.”

He finally reached the teaching building. Just as he was about to head downstairs, he suddenly felt something behind him. He spun around sharply: “Who’s there?!”

Behind him was only a dark corridor, nothing to be seen.

Bai Hu’s voice rang in his mind: “What’s wrong?”

Xi Che no longer had any spiritual power to sense if someone was tailing him, but years of ingrained instinct still sounded alarms—someone was following.

He held the candle high and shone it behind him for a long while. Seeing nothing, he shook his head: “Just my imagination.”

Only after the candle’s orange-red glow had drifted far away did Chu Yan step out from the corner. He stared expressionlessly at the light ahead—how could this human be so alert? He had even concealed his breathing with magic, yet the boy still noticed… Truly not simple.

Xi Che descended to the basement level and reached the gym, only to find it locked and completely dark, with no sign of anyone.

So was the note a prank? Who was messing with him?

As he was puzzling over this, the wall beside the gym doors began to ripple. Startled, he quickly stepped back, only to see a black hole of a doorway appear.

Demons…

Out of that dark doorway stepped Zhan Yujin. Seeing Xi Che waiting outside, he immediately smiled.

“I knew you’d come. Hurry inside.”

Xi Che looked at him with suspicion. “You mean… you have a base here?”

If he remembered right, this academy was Rige Party territory, not the Jurisdiction Party’s domain.

Zhan Yujin gave him a small smile. “This time we came especially for you. Come in.”

Xi Che, still doubtful, nodded and walked into the black portal. Chu Yan, who had been tailing him, rushed in as well—just in time before the portal closed, remaining unnoticed by the other two.

The moment Chu Yan saw that black gate, he sensed the demonic aura upon it. Three hundred years ago, he would have instantly stepped in to subdue the two. But he had been through too much since then; his mindset had shifted. Now, he decided to observe first and uncover the truth before acting.

Beyond the portal was not the gym but a space Xi Che had never seen before. It was spacious like an underground parking lot, yet bare and unfinished—raw gray brick walls, no paint, no furnishings. Nothing like any room in the academy building.

Seeing Xi Che’s doubt, Zhan Yujin explained: “This is a secret base opened by one of our people using space magic, created in the cracks of the walls. Don’t worry—it’s safe here.”

Xi Che didn’t hide his amazement: “Someone in our race is that powerful?”

As far as he knew, incubi had no such ability.

Spatial magic might not have been remarkable in his past life, but for this body, it was completely out of reach. Not weakness on his part—just a racial limitation. Incubi were not built for combat.

Sure enough, Zhan Yujin laughed. “There’s more than just incubi in the army.”

Xi Che understood. So it was just a ragtag coalition.

Just as he was about to say more, a heavy thud of flesh meeting fist echoed from afar, followed by a muffled groan—not a lewd sound, but the sound of violence, like someone being beaten.

Xi Che glanced at Zhan Yujin in surprise. Zhan Yujin gave a helpless shrug toward that direction. “Come on,Ting is waiting for you.”

Waiting for me? From the sound of it, it’s more like… fighting.

Xi Che followed him over, and sure enough—Yuan Ting was fighting.

More precisely, he was brutally beating a man tied to a chair.

The victim was firmly bound, face swollen and bloody, snot, tears, and blood mixing together. His eyes bulged wide, as though he wanted to speak. Yuan Ting, unaware of Xi Che and Zhan Yujin’s arrival, swung another heavy fist into the man’s cheek—the sound from before. But since the victim’s mouth was gagged, he couldn’t scream, only let out muffled groans of pain.

The punch looked painful enough that Xi Che unconsciously touched the same spot on his own cheek. In that instant, he caught a glimpse of Yuan Ting’s expression: fierce, vicious, terrifying.

Noticing their arrival, Yuan Ting finally stopped. He wiped blood off his face with a casual swipe, then looked over. “He’s here?”

Xi Che frowned slightly, unable to pull his gaze away from the beaten man. Why bring him here—just to make him watch this? To intimidate him?

But Yuan Ting’s face had already returned to normal. Seeing where Xi Che was looking, he said, “Nothing to see here. Just a captured spy with a hard mouth.”

Xi Che’s instincts screamed something was wrong. “If you want to interrogate him, why gag his mouth? That way he can’t say anything even if he wants to.”

Yuan Ting suddenly grinned strangely. “When I wanted him to speak, he refused. Now that he wants to talk, he no longer has the chance.”

Xi Che understood. This Yuan Ting was a sadistic pervert.

Couldn’t he see the guy’s desperate expression? He saw it clearly: the man had already broken. But because he hadn’t confessed at the exact time Yuan Ting demanded, Yuan Ting was displeased and kept hitting him.

Xi Che turned away from the pitiful sight. Yuan Ting wiped his hands clean with a white silk handkerchief, then draped an arm over Xi Che’s shoulder, steering him around a corner, out of view of the tied-up man.

“Today we brought you here to talk about the upcoming demon-hunting mission.”

Xi Che blurted: “Demon-hunting mission?”

Yuan Ting gave him a puzzled look. “You’re already a third-year student, about to take part in the academy’s demon-hunting mission. Why are you asking me?”

Xi Che quickly searched his host’s memory. Every year Yujing Academy sent groups of students, led by teachers, to villages harassed by demons to help exorcise them. The events weren’t frequent, but they carried real risk. They also served as a way to show off the God of Light’s “power” and attract more believers.

In this world, humans could learn spells, enough to defend themselves.

Ah, how foolish—he had forgotten that with incantations and mudras, he could still use spells. As a thousand-year-old demon lord, the incantations he mastered were enough to let him run rampant in the human realm.

Of course, learned human spells couldn’t compare to the innate, world-shattering powers of demons and gods. They weren’t even on the same scale.

But after the great war of gods and demons, almost all such overwhelming beings had vanished. The few who remained—like Chu Yan or Zhu Wu—rarely showed themselves. The world’s dominant power had shifted from “high-magic” to “low-magic.”

In short: since that war, humans could at least fight demons on equal footing.

Realizing he had slipped up, Xi Che quickly said, “Oh, I just never got the notice about it.”

Yuan Ting snorted. “Maybe you were asleep when they told you.”

“…”

Or maybe he simply hadn’t been summoned at that point.

Zhan Yujin stepped in: “That’s why today, we’ll teach you some survival spells in advance. So you won’t be caught off guard during the mission.”

So this was a private lesson.

Xi Che frowned. “Wouldn’t the academy’s curriculum cover this already?”

Yuan Ting sneered. “What can they teach you? Flashy tricks, all show and no use. When you meet a real demon, they’re useless—you’ll just die.”

Zhan Yujin hung a whiteboard on the wall. It already had diagrams of hand seals, each paired with a line of incantation—mudras for spell-casting. This was the beginner’s method, using chants and gestures together.

“These spells are strictly banned in human academies—they call them heresy. But they are powerful. You must learn them. At a critical moment, they can save your life.”

—No wonder they were banned. Many of these were ones he himself had invented in the past… Spells with terrifying or grotesque effects, but undeniably effective.

Seeing Xi Che staring at the whiteboard, Zhan Yujin mistook it for hesitation and patted his shoulder. “Don’t worry, take your time. Just memorize them first and practice diligently. Don’t blame us for being strict—the demon-hunting missions have seen many accidents in recent years. We’re only looking out for you.”

Xi Che raised his hand to cut him off. “I’ve already memorized them.”

Zhan Yujin looked astonished. “So fast?”

Yuan Ting was even more doubtful. “Big words. Prove it.”

Xi Che formed the hand seal, chanting fluently, then pointed at the wall and shouted: “Stick!”

The wall boiled like a pot of soup, bubbling violently before bursting apart with a loud “boom.”

This was one of the spells he had created. Cast on living beings, it would make their brains, organs, and even blood boil—a gruesome but devastating effect.

Naturally, it was branded as heresy.

Xi Che lowered his hand, a faintly awkward look on his face—his current power was indeed much weaker than before…

But the display shocked Zhan Yujin and Yuan Ting. The spell’s force was far beyond what a beginner should manage.

Zhan Yujin was first startled, then overjoyed, gripping Xi Che’s shoulder. “Ting, he’s a natural prodigy! When I first learned, my results weren’t half as strong.”

Xi Che had chanted swiftly, and no one noticed his incantation had extra words compared to the whiteboard. In truth, he had spoken the complete version—they didn’t even realize theirs was missing a line.

Hidden in the shadows, Chu Yan saw everything as well. But his gaze lingered not on Xi Che’s spell, but on the black kitten curled on his shoulder, grooming itself—how could this human possess a manifested soul?