Reborn as a succubus - Chapter 15

The road was slippery in the dark. Xi Che had been too focused on chasing the rabbit to notice that, right beside its burrow, there was a much larger pit hidden by long blades of grass. He stepped right into it, and the ground around him collapsed.

Only after falling did he realize this was no ordinary rabbit hole or hunter’s trap. The pit was astonishingly deep. He plummeted down a long tunnel before finally crashing hard onto the ground.

For a “hole,” it was far too big!

He had been lying there for some time when another sound of landing came beside him. Unlike his clumsy fall, this one was light and graceful, two feet touching down neatly.

Clearly, his non-human roommate had fallen in with him.

Before he could get up, a sudden pain shot through his arm. At first he didn’t even realize what had happened. The place was pitch dark, so he hurriedly chanted a spell to light up the surroundings.

When he looked down, he nearly jumped out of his skin—because clinging to his arm was a person, biting down hard.

“Break!”

Startled out of his wits, Xi Che immediately blew its head apart.

Even for someone as experienced as Xi Che, the situation was baffling. He sat frozen on the ground, gasping for breath. Chu Yan noticed the commotion and came over. By the glow of Xi Che’s still-active spell, he saw him clutching his arm, staring in horror at something ahead.

Chu Yan followed his gaze—and saw a mangled corpse.
“What happened?”

Xi Che swallowed, trying to make his voice sound less terrified. After all, his roommate was still young. If he said outright how frightening it was, it might scare him even more.

“Be careful. There are zombies here.”

“Zombies?” Chu Yan frowned.

Yes. Zombies—or rather, ghouls.

It was absurd. When Xi Che had lit the area, he’d seen the thing biting him. Its face was ashen, half the flesh rotted away, exposing jawbone and teeth, pale and gleaming.

It was clearly not alive, and had been dead for some time.

But for something so decomposed to still open its mouth and bite? Even in this world, that was rare.

People who watch too many zombie films often imagine them snarling or howling as they attack. In reality, nothing of the sort. This one had bitten him silently, without warning. At first it hadn’t even hurt that much—only when he realized what had bitten him did the real terror hit.

“Hhss…!”

Xi Che tried to get up, but his entire arm was numb. Soon, he could no longer move. His body collapsed backward uncontrollably.

Chu Yan rushed forward and caught him, and Xi Che slumped weakly into his arms.

The numbness turned into sharp pain, spreading through half his body. Gritting his teeth, Xi Che clutched the wound, his voice weak: “Poison…”

Chu Yan understood. He cast another illumination spell and saw the grisly sight of Xi Che’s arm. The wound had already turned dark purple. Xi Che’s face was pale, drenched in cold sweat.

“This place… there’s something wrong… underneath… it’s strange…”

The cavern beneath was vast, like another world entirely. The ground was littered with bones, stretching endlessly into the distance.

This wasn’t just a pit—it was another realm. Above them was not earth, but a sky, though not any sky they knew. Strange and wrong.

And the corpse poison was vicious, spreading quickly. In moments, it had consumed his whole arm.

The wound burned fiercely, his thoughts blurred.

“Master… Master always said one day my greed would cost me…”

His words trailed off. Darkness swallowed his vision, and before he could hear Chu Yan’s reply, his head lolled to the side—he fainted.

Chu Yan held him, unsure how to react.

He knew Xi Che was poisoned. He could save him—but as a god, he was not supposed to meddle in mortal karma.

He should not interfere.

So he sat still, letting Xi Che lean against his shoulder. If fate favored him, he would survive; if not, then it was destined.

Most of the time, gods could not be called “merciful.” They were better described as “cold.” Impartial, detached. Unless confronted with a matter of grave importance, they did not interfere.

But Asa had always been different. Unlike them, he was not cold.

Chu Yan was lost in thought when the man on his shoulder muttered faintly:

“No…”

Chu Yan narrowed his eyes and leaned closer, finally catching the words:

“I won’t drink… I won’t go to the Heart-Spring…”

His heart jolted violently. Instinctively, he drew the man closer, cupping his face.
“What did you just say?”

Xi Che’s expression was twisted in pain, his brow furrowed, face dripping with sweat. Dark veins spread across his neck—horrifying to behold.

“I won’t drink… even if I die… let me go…”

Chu Yan’s grip unconsciously tightened, black eyes trembling with sudden storm.

Who was this man? Who exactly was he?!

Perhaps from the pain, Xi Che whimpered and buried his face in Chu Yan’s shoulder, voice muffled:
“Chu Yan… save me…”

Chu Yan’s eyes flew wide. His grip nearly crushed Xi Che’s shoulder.

“Asa…”

He could never forget that day. Nor the words between them.

Asa had always been fearless. In Jingyu, no one could subdue him. The old War God adored him, others were no match for him.

When he inherited the title of War God—young, brilliant, commanding countless followers—he was even more unstoppable.

Chu Yan thought Asa would never know fear.

Until that day, when Asa was shackled by the stewards of Langfeng Pavilion, dragged toward the Heart-Spring.

For the first time, Chu Yan saw fear on Asa’s face. He knelt on the ground, shouting in fury:
“Send me to the Lightning Pool! To the Execution Platform! But not the Heart-Spring! Kill me if you must!!!”

Chu Yan had not understood. The Heart-Spring never harmed gods. At worst, it revealed one’s hidden desires, and one drank a cup of its water. Shameful perhaps, but harmless.

The Lightning Pool and Execution Platform, on the other hand, meant certain death.

Yet Asa struggled like a trapped beast, still dragged toward the Heart-Spring. Gods gathered to watch, none stepping in.

Chu Yan tried to intervene. Another god in deep violet robes also stepped forward.

It was the Law God, Zhu Wu.

Zhu Wu spoke first: “What’s going on? Why are you dragging the War God?”

The stewards exchanged a look. “Someone reported that the War God has not reflected at the Heart-Spring for nearly a hundred years. We must enforce the rule.”

Hearing this, Chu Yan was relieved. A minor matter. At most, a cup of water. No real harm.

Zhu Wu also seemed reassured. He looked at Asa. “Then go. Why make them drag you? Don’t disgrace yourself.”

But at those words, Asa’s face tensed. Looking around at the curious gods, he lowered his voice:
“I… Zhu Wu, have them release me. I’ll go myself. I swear it.”

He begged only Zhu Wu, who as Law God could at least negotiate. But the stewards weren’t fools—they refused. “Impossible. We must escort him.”

Asa grew frantic. As they tried to drag him closer, flames burst from his shackled arms, scorching their hands.

Yet bound in divine chains, he could not break free. The scene descended into chaos.

Zhu Wu slammed his staff, blasting the stewards back. “Enough! Why make a scene? If he won’t go, fetch a cup of water from Yinglei and force him to drink it!”

Chu Yan understood then. Asa did not want to be questioned before the stewards. He wanted to save face.

He knew Asa was prideful—but not to this extreme.

Zhu Wu knew as well. Forcing the water down was a compromise, sparing his dignity.

But Asa only grew more desperate. The chains shocked him with lightning. Kneeling in pain, he still roared:
“I won’t drink it! I won’t go to the Heart-Spring! Even if I die, I won’t!!!”

Zhu Wu cursed him: “Still throwing a tantrum at the brink of death?!”

“I am not! All these years, I’ve never failed in my duty! In Jingyu, I lead the most faithful. Whenever demons rise, I march to suppress them! I’ve betrayed no one—what right have you to inspect me?! Either release me, or…”

He glanced at the watching gods, eyes suddenly pleading.
“Chu Yan… Chu Yan, for the sake of our years together—help me! Cut these chains!”

Chu Yan remembered his answer. He had not helped. He had stood coldly and said:
“Asa, I cannot. Obey. Go with the stewards.”

He had been shocked, yet calm. Once, he would never refuse Asa. Never watch him suffer.

But now he could.

Because he had drunk the Heart-Spring’s water. Private feelings no longer swayed him.

Asa fell silent, staring in disbelief.
“You too… think I should drink?”

Chu Yan was quiet, then nodded.

In Asa’s eyes flashed disappointment—and despair.

A single tear slid down, only to vanish in his flames.

When he opened his eyes again, he was no longer the same. His gaze blazed scarlet, killing intent erupting. Flames roared skyward, his arms splitting under divine lightning, blood gushing.
“Jin Hunwu!!!”

“Asa!”

“Stop! Don’t do this!”

No god bound in those chains could ever break free. In all Jingyu, in all three realms, only War God Asas could.

His crimson blade Jin Hunwu howled as it struck the chains. Sparks flew, blood sprayed. Chu Yan tried to stop him, but it was too late.

Asa shattered his chains, drenched in blood, standing tall on the clouds, sword in hand.

“From this day forth, I sever all ties with Jingyu and the God Realm!”

Only then did they understand—Asa had chosen to fall for the sake of refusing a single cup of Heart-Spring water.

Chu Yan could not comprehend. Neither could Zhu Wu.

Later, they learned the truth.

He had fallen… because he loved someone.

And gods were forbidden to love.

Asa had refused the Heart-Spring because he wanted to protect that person. He would not let the water strip away his love.

At that memory, Chu Yan felt ice spread through him, as if plunged into a frozen abyss.

And his first thought was not sorrow for his old friend. It was jealousy. Jealousy of that person.

He knew he should not feel it.

“Zhu Wu… who do you think that person was?”

“I don’t know… And why are you looking at me like that? It’s not me.”