Reborn as a succubus - Chapter 17

Beneath the cave opening stretched a strange land, paved entirely with white bones as far as the eye could see.

This was a separate space, not belonging to any of the Three Realms. Otherwise, how could there be a “sky” underground—and above that sky, a crescent blood moon?

The entire place was filled with corpses, not only human but also demon and monster remains. Each body was decayed to a different degree—some had already become skeletons, others still carried rotting flesh.

It looked like a mass grave.

If he guessed right, all these corpses carried corpse poison, just like the one that had bitten him earlier.

“…Why did the lightning strike you just now? Was that your tribulation thunder?”

Having seen that massive bolt, Xi Che was now convinced that this classmate Chu Qi was no ordinary person.

He had to be some extremely powerful demon.

But then why would such a powerful demon come to a human academy to pretend to be a student? Was the inheritance of the Bright God really that enticing?

Of course, Chu Yan couldn’t tell him the truth. Not knowing how to explain, Xi Che’s question actually gave him a good excuse. He went along with it: “Yes.”

“So you’ve successfully transcended your tribulation?”

Xi Che looked him over. “Doesn’t look like you’ve changed much. Shouldn’t you ascend after a successful tribulation?”

Caught off guard, Chu Yan was silent for a moment before saying, “Then maybe I failed.”

“Failing means you’d be struck dead—or at least blasted back into your original form.”

After thinking a while, Chu Yan replied, “I don’t know.”

…That was definitely brushing him off.

Xi Che figured he just didn’t want to say, or maybe his kind had special secrets that couldn’t be revealed. Best not to press further.

So he changed the subject: “Did you get rid of the corpse poison in me?”

Chu Yan nodded quickly. “Yes. I used magic to purge it.”

That wasn’t exactly a lie—he really had used magic to cleanse him.

Xi Che’s mouth twisted, his expression half-laughing, half-crying. “…I owe you a favor this time.”

He hated owing favors—especially to someone who seemed like a would-be suitor.

Chu Yan knew him too well; just from his look he knew what Xi Che was thinking.

“No need. If the situation were reversed, you’d have saved me too.”

Xi Che gave him a glance, assuming he was just being polite. “I don’t have that kind of skill.”

Expressionless, Chu Yan looked forward. “Don’t dwell on trivial matters. Focus on moving ahead. If it really bothers you, then consider that kiss just now repayment enough.”

“…”

Before Xi Che could react, Chu Yan was already walking ahead. Staring after his back, Xi Che burned with shame and anger—had he just been teased?! Damn… even if this Chu Qi really was some mighty demon, with maybe thousands of years of cultivation, compared to him—the war god of the demon race—he was still just a junior! And yet he’d been teased by a little brat?!

Xi Che was fuming, and the little black cat on his shoulder let out a childlike voice: “This one’s way more fun than that guy up in the heavens, huh.”

Xi Che rolled his eyes, following in Chu Qi’s direction. “Stop spouting nonsense.”

The white tiger, perched obediently on his shoulder, nuzzled against his cheek. The rain was falling from the sky, but pressed against like this, the tiger’s soft fur kept him warm.

“I don’t like his scent, but he seems decent enough. You could consider a temporary relationship with him. You don’t know when this body will enter heat—you’ll need someone as a backup.”

“…I don’t need it.”

The white tiger snorted. “You know perfectly well you do. The God of light, aloof in the heavens, never had to suffer through heats. But this body does. Will he pity you for suffering on his account? No. He doesn’t want you. Even if he knew, he’d only despise you.”

“Enough, stop.”

Xi Che already knew all this. That was why it hurt so much.

But the white tiger pressed on: “Don’t forget—he abandoned you once. I never forgot. You were ruined for defending him, and yet you still pine for him. If it were me, I’d have killed him long ago to settle the score.”

Xi Che fell silent. The white tiger, though his soul-bonded spirit, wasn’t truly born of him. It had its own temperament and will. Strictly speaking, it had chosen him, not the other way around.

It didn’t always obey him.

The white tiger embodied slaughter, steeped in killing aura. It often tempted Xi Che into rash decisions.

Back then, his master had warned him—since his spirit beast was the white tiger, he needed to practice calligraphy, recite scripture, cultivate inner calm. As war god, he was already steeped in battle energy. With the white tiger, it was slaughter upon slaughter. If he wasn’t careful, he would fall into madness.

And in the end, everything his master predicted had come true.

Had he only been calmer, listened to his master, perhaps he would never have provoked that war that harmed the Three Realms. He wouldn’t have become a sinner.

Sensing his gloom, the white tiger nuzzled him again. “I liked you best when you fell into madness.”

Xi Che was speechless—of course he would. Killing was when he felt happiest.

But the white tiger was just a spirit, with no concern for the fate of realms, for right or wrong. Naturally it only cared about pleasure. He couldn’t listen to it blindly.

He pushed those old memories aside. They couldn’t be solved now anyway. Up ahead, Chu Qi had stopped and seemed to be waiting for him. Xi Che hurried forward.

“What is it? Did you find something?”

Chu Yan glanced at him, took off his outer robe, and held it out. His eyes flicked briefly toward Xi Che’s shoulder—sure enough, the little black cat still perched there. “The rain’s getting heavier. Use this.”

Xi Che froze, then shook his head quickly. “No need. I’m not some girl—don’t need covering for a little rain.”

“Take it. This isn’t ordinary rain.”

Oh… right. If all the corpses here carried poison, then the rain falling from above probably did too.

When Xi Che refused, Chu Yan stepped closer and draped the robe directly over his head. For a moment, Xi Che felt as if he were wrapped in his arms. Outside sounds vanished.

…This robe wasn’t ordinary either. It carried a barrier.

Xi Che looked at him in surprise, but Chu Yan’s expression stayed as cold and calm as ever, as if he’d done nothing unusual.

“What about you?”

“I’ll be fine. This much poison can’t hurt me.”

Xi Che nodded, then felt a pang of loss. So now he was the weakest one, the one needing special care. His power was so weak he couldn’t even cast spells continuously—every incantation drained him. So Chu Qi had to be the one holding up the illumination spell.

Silent at his side, always cold-faced, at one point Xi Che almost thought Chu Qi resembled Chu Yan.

Catching Xi Che’s gaze, Chu Qi turned his head too. Xi Che noticed those phoenix eyes—clear, long, refined. No wonder he’d mistaken him before.

But those eyes were set in such an ordinary face.

Ha… what was he then? A knockoff Chu Yan? A substitute version?

Lowering his head, he muttered inwardly to the white tiger: “Maybe you’re right… Maybe I should consider him. He does seem to like me.”

The white tiger was quiet a while. “You don’t sound happy about it.”

Xi Che walked in silence. Then suddenly, a tear dropped onto the bones beneath his feet. “I feel pathetic.”

Why had fate made him reincarnate as an incubus? What kind of cruel joke was this?

And now he was seriously thinking of finding a “substitute” for Chu Yan. What next—buying a cheap replacement off the marketplace?

The white tiger sighed. “Don’t act like some maiden forced into prostitution. It’s not like you’re bound to him forever. Once your need is met, send him on his way. Of course… I do hope you can find someone who’ll truly help you forget that bastard Chu Yan. But if you don’t like him, no one’s forcing you.”

“He’s not a bastard.”

“He is.”

“…” Too tired to argue.

They kept on walking. Suddenly Xi Che slipped—his foot hitting something—and nearly fell. Though he believed he’d never truly stumble, Chu Qi still caught him by the waist.

…This guy really was trying to hit on him.

Xi Che quickly wriggled free and crouched to look. At his feet lay a half-moon-shaped metal tag. He picked it up—it hung on a cord, like a pendant.

“Yuan… look, is that the character for Yuan?”

Chu Qi crouched beside him, examined it carefully, and nodded. “Yes.”

Xi Che glanced at him, then tugged a cord from under his collar. Hanging from it was an identical metal tag—this one engraved with “Che.”

“These two are a pair. This one… belonged to my brother.”

Chu Yan was surprised. He thought for a moment, then understood—Xi Che must mean the brother of the body he now inhabited.

But the next instant, Xi Che’s eyes filled with tears. “My brother’s dead. Bi Yuan is dead… I knew it. He’s become one of these bones here.”

Chu Yan silently watched him, then reached out to wipe his tears. “Calm down.”

“Uuuhhh… my heart hurts… I’m so miserable.”

Xi Che covered his face and broke into sobs. Helpless, Chu Yan drew him into his arms, pressing his face into his chest. “There, there. Calm down.”

But Xi Che struggled, crying, “Let me go! I don’t want a substitute… I’d rather die than settle!”

Substitute? What did he mean?

Chu Yan tightened his hold, and without bothering to hide anymore, carried him directly in his arms, striding swiftly with his ground-shrinking technique out of the bone-filled land.

At last, on the far edge, he set Xi Che down. The man who’d been flailing and weeping only moments before now gradually quieted, sobbing turned to sniffles, then silence.

…He’d cried way too hard.

“Feeling better?”

Xi Che’s eyes were swollen from crying. Hearing Chu Yan’s voice, he didn’t dare look up—oh god, what had he just done… what shameful thing had he done?!

Why had he cried like that?!

Chu Yan, seeing him mute and head bowed, understood well enough—Xi Che cared so much about saving face. Right now he must be dying of embarrassment.

The thought made him smile faintly. He decided to give him a way out. “That field of bones was heavy with resentment and evil qi. It amplifies emotions. You must have remembered something sad.”

Xi Che peeked up at him, not answering. But he noticed Chu Yan’s chest—the robe had been torn badly by his fists and kicks.

“Uh… s-sorry about your clothes.”

“It’s fine.”

Xi Che ducked his head lower, afraid to show his tear-streaked face.

For a moment, he wished the world would swallow him whole.

Chu Yan gazed down at his fluffy head. Seeing how he still sniffled now and then, he hesitated, then raised his hand and gently stroked his hair.

Xi Che didn’t dodge.

That made him quietly glad. He smoothed his hair again, then pulled him close, resting his head against his chest.

Xi Che froze, hands digging into the dirt.

Shouldn’t he push him away…?

But his head was being gently petted, soothed as if he were a small animal.

Xi Che stayed stiff for a long time, then finally closed his eyes in resignation. Fine. The guy had saved him more than once—he couldn’t be too ungrateful.