Reborn as a Succubus: Time To Live My Best Life!-Chapter 140: Junior Sorceress Melisa Blackflame, Part Twenty-Six

Armia sipped her champagne, desperately wishing it was something stronger. The nobles around her chatted and laughed, their voices a cacophony of fake politeness and thinly veiled judgment.

[Just smile and nod,] she told herself. [Pretend you belong here.]

A portly man with a walrus mustache approached, eyeing her scales with barely concealed distaste.

"Lady Armia, isn’t it? Quite... unusual to see a darian at these gatherings."

Armia forced a smile.

"General Neal was kind enough to invite me. I’m honored to be here."

[Even if I’d rather be literally anywhere else.]

The man harrumphed.

"Yes, well. I suppose we must make... allowances in these trying times."

A younger noble, clearly several drinks in, piped up.

"Speaking of trying times, what’s your take on the war, Lady Armia? Bit of a conflict of interest for you, eh?"

Armia’s tail twitched in irritation, but she kept her face neutral.

"Not at all. While I may be darian by blood, my loyalty lies firmly with Syux and humanity."

The portly noble’s eyebrows shot up. "Really? Even against your own kind?"

"Syux is my home," Armia said firmly, shrugging. "The darians threatening our borders are no more ’my kind’ than any other enemy of the realm."

A murmur of approval rippled through the small crowd. Armia felt a twinge of satisfaction.

As the conversation shifted to more mundane topics, Armia’s gaze wandered. She spotted Isabella across the room and nearly choked on her champagne.

The kitsune was with a pair of human girls, her emerald eyes sparkling with mischief. But it wasn’t Isabella’s flirtatious banter that caught Armia’s attention.

It was the very obvious bulge straining against the fabric of Isabella’s dress.

[Holy shit,] Armia thought, her own cock twitching in sympathy. [How is she just... standing there like that?]

If it was Armia, she’d be sprinting out of sight.

Isabella showed no signs of embarrassment. No blush stained her cheeks, no awkward shifting to hide her arousal. She was very much still confident, laughing and touching the girls’ arms as if having a raging hard-on in the middle of a noble party was the most natural thing in the world. And the girls didn’t seem to mind.

Armia felt a pang of jealousy so intense it made her dizzy.

[... What I wouldn’t give for even a fraction of that confidence,] she thought, watching as one of the human girls "accidentally" brushed against Isabella’s erection.

Isabella’s grin widened, and she leaned in to whisper something in the girl’s ear. Whatever it was made the human blush furiously and giggle.

Armia tore her gaze away, suddenly feeling hot under her collar. She tuned back into the nobles’ conversation just in time to hear the portly man ask her opinion on trade relations.

"I... uh..." Armia stammered, her mind still full of Isabella’s confident smirk and straining cock. "I think increased cooperation would be beneficial for both parties."

The man nodded sagely, as if she’d said something profound instead of spouting the first diplomatic-sounding bullshit that came to mind.

As the day wore on, the sun slowly falling beyond the horizon, Armia found herself constantly distracted by Isabella’s antics. The kitsune went from group to group, leaving a trail of flustered nobles in her wake.

And through it all, Isabella never lost that air of easy confidence. That unshakeable belief that she belonged exactly where she was, doing exactly what she was doing.

[Must be nice,] Armia thought, downing another glass of champagne. [To just... not give a fuck what anyone thinks.]

She imagined, for a moment, what it would be like to stride across the room, her own arousal on full display. To flirt shamelessly with anyone who caught her eye, consequences be damned.

The thought was equal parts thrilling and terrifying.

As if sensing Armia’s gaze, Isabella looked up and caught her eye.

The kitsune just winked at her.

Armia felt her face heat up. She looked away quickly, focusing intently on whatever the hell the nobles were discussing now.

[Get it together,] she scolded herself. [You’re not her. It is what it is.]

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{Melisa}

Melisa trudged through the front door of Javir’s manor, her tail dragging behind her like a sad, purple noodle.

The moons were just beginning to come out, outside, and Melisa could already feel the desire to go to sleep, suppressing a yawn.

Her eyes landed on her dad, Melistair, sprawled out on the couch in full nap mode. His snores in this moment could probably wake the dead, but hey, at least it wasn’t that late.

[Screw it,] Melisa decided. [Daddy’s lap looks comfy.]

She flopped down, resting her head on Melistair’s thigh. He didn’t even stir. Typical.

[Must be nice to sleep through the nimpocalypse,] Melisa mused, her eyes drifting to the glass doors leading to the backyard.

Outside, Jaylin was going through her spell motions, looking like she was trying to swat invisible flies. Margaret and Hazel sat on a nearby bench, playing some kind of clapping game and giggling.

[Aw, cute. Wait a sec...]

Melisa’s brow furrowed as she watched Jaylin.

The girl’s form was... off.

[That stance cannot be right, can it?]

Now, Melisa wasn’t exactly the perfect mage herself. Isabella had specifically told Melisa her problem was that she was all quantity, no quality when it came to magic. But between all the Blood Magic shenanigans, she’d managed to squeeze in some spell parry practice.

Mostly so she wouldn’t embarrass herself in class, of course.

[... Maybe I’m wrong.] She thought. [I want to find out.]

With a groan, Melisa hauled herself off the couch and shuffled outside.

The moment Jaylin spotted her, the girl’s face scrunched up like she’d just bitten into a lemon. She turned on her heel, clearly intent on making a hasty retreat.

[Oh no you don’t,] Melisa thought, a mischievous grin spreading across her face.

"Aqua, virtute, surge!"

A weak jet of water shot from Melisa’s fingertips, barely more than a pathetic dribble. But it was enough to make Jaylin yelp and whirl around, eyes wide with indignation.

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"What the actual fuck?!" Jaylin sputtered, water dripping from her nose. Margaret and Hazel stopped.

Melisa smirked.

"Aww, what’s wrong? Can’t handle a little moisture?"

Jaylin’s face turned an impressive shade of red.

"I’ll show you moisture, you... purple menace!"

She tossed out a spell of her own.

And, Melisa parried it.

Jaylin’s brows shot up.

[Okay... Would have been embarrassing if I’d been any slower, but, hey, I did it. Now...]

"Aqua, virtute, surge!"

This time, Jaylin parried the magical blow. Melisa smirked.

[There you go... Come on... Let’s do this.]

What followed was less of a training session and more of a magical slapstick routine.

They traded spells back and forth. Both of them managed to parry each one, but, sadly, Melisa noticed she was slowly being overwhelmed.

[And, my Essence is just about to run out after all that healing. Shit.]

... But she couldn’t stop this. It was too fun.

"Come on, Jay! Put your shoulder into it!" She called out.

"Don’t call me that!" Jaylin growled, her next spell going wide and singeing a nearby bush.

Margaret, watching from the sidelines, just sighed.

"Girls, please don’t burn down the yard. Javir just had it landscaped."

Hazel, on the other hand, was having the time of her life, watching sparks fly.

As their impromptu duel raged on, Melisa couldn’t help but notice Jaylin was getting faster, mid-fight.

Finally, after what felt like hours but was probably closer to twenty minutes, Jaylin managed to land a hit. A weak fire spell grazed Melisa’s arm, singeing her sleeve.

"AH!"

"Ha!" Jaylin grinned. "Take that, you overgrown grape!"

Melisa raised an eyebrow.

"Overgrown grape? Really? That’s the best you’ve got?"

Still, she had to admit.

She lost. Unequivocally.

[... After all this is done, I need to train more. I can’t keep letting my skills stagnate.]

Suddenly, Jaylin stomped forward.

Javir’s niece got right up in Melisa’s face, practically vibrating with triumph.

"Admit it! I totally kicked your ass!"

Melisa pulled back, blinking.

[Wow.] She thought. [She’s cute when she’s all fired up. Wait, what?]

Melisa shook off that weird thought and plastered on an amused smile.

"Alright, alright. You got me... Good job, Jaylin."

For a moment, Jaylin looked thrown by the praise. Then she quickly schooled her features back into a scowl and stomped back inside, muttering something about "stupid nim".

Melisa watched her go and then sighed.

[... Oh, my Essence literally just ran out.]

Up ahead, Margaret had stepped away from Hazel, who was now imitating Jaylin’s motions from earlier.

Melisa’s mother walked up with a concerned look.

"Are you alright? Does that hurt?

Melisa smirked.

"Nah, not really... But, you could kiss it to make it better."

Margaret, smiling, giggled and walked forward. She actually did it, bending down to plant a kiss on Melisa’s arm.

"There. All better?"

"Yes," Melisa nodded. "Better."