Reborn as a Succubus: Time To Live My Best Life!-Chapter 402: Essence Detection

{Melisa}

Zephyra stood in the cottage’s common area, wearing what could generously be called "research attire." Or maybe what could be described as "slutty researcher cosplay". A silk robe that barely covered anything and somehow made her look even more scandalous than her usual outfits.

"Today we begin actual work," Zephyra announced. "Essence detection. One of the most useful skills a mage can develop, and criminally undertaught at most academies."

Melisa sat on the floor, cross-legged, trying not to stare at how much cleavage the robe revealed.

Zephyra settled onto a cushion, arranging herself with practiced elegance.

"I’m going to be teaching you to read essence like a book. To understand its quality, signature, flow. When mastered, you’ll be able to identify who’s nearby without even seeing them. Detect emotional states. Even predict someone’s magical capabilities before they cast a single spell."

[Okay, that actually sounds useful.]

"How does it work?"

"Close your eyes. Breathe. Feel the essence flowing through your own body first." Zephyra’s voice shifted, taking on a teacher’s cadence. "I’m guessing you nim might be particularly good at this since you drain essence constantly. You already have an intimate understanding of how it feels, tastes, moves through different people."

"That’s true."

Melisa closed her eyes.

Her own essence hummed beneath her skin, warm and electric. She’d fed well before leaving Syux—multiple encounters with Isabella, a particularly memorable afternoon with Rakia, and that kiss with Aria that had left her dizzy for hours.

[Plenty of fuel in the tank.]

"Now extend your awareness outward. Don’t force it. Let it drift like smoke."

Melisa tried. Her consciousness reached beyond her body, searching for something she couldn’t quite name.

Nothing.

"You’re trying too hard," Zephyra said without opening her eyes. "Essence detection isn’t about power. It’s about perception. Stop reaching and start listening."

Melisa relaxed, letting her awareness float rather than push.

And there—a flicker. A presence. Multiple presences, actually, scattered throughout the village like stars in a constellation.

"I feel something."

"Good! Now focus on one signature. Any of them. Tell me what you sense."

Melisa picked the closest presence, somewhere outside their cottage. She let her awareness settle around it like a net.

The essence felt... bubbly. Light. Quick movements and rapid shifts in intensity. Young, maybe. Playful.

"Someone young. Energetic. Happy."

"Excellent. That’s probably one of the village children playing near the well." Zephyra’s smile was audible. "What else?"

Melisa reached for another signature. This one was different—steady, warm, with occasional spikes of focused intensity.

"Someone working. Concentrated. Maybe crafting something?"

"A woodworker in her shop. Very good, Melisa. You’re a natural at this."

They practiced for hours. Melisa learned to distinguish between different types of essence signatures—the wild, vibrant energy of young kitsune, the deeper, more complex patterns of older ones, the unique qualities that marked individuals as clearly as fingerprints.

"Try something harder," Zephyra said. "Read my essence. Tell me what you sense."

Melisa focused on her teacher.

Zephyra’s essence was... complicated.

Layers upon layers of power, vast and deep like an ocean. But beneath that, something else. Curiosity, certainly. Intelligence that crackled like lightning. An undercurrent of playfulness.

"You’re really strong. But, you also want to have fun. Right now, you’re amused."

Zephyra’s eyes opened, grey and sharp.

"Perceptive. Most people only see the power." She stood, stretching. "That’s enough for today. Practice on your own. Walk through the village, read everyone you encounter. Build your database of signatures."

"Zephyra, can I ask you something?"

"You just did."

"The sick kitsune. The ones I keep seeing around the village. Do you know what’s causing it?"

Zephyra tilted her head, her expression thoughtful.

"Hmm. Interesting question. I’ve noticed them too, of course. Hard to miss when you’re attuned to essence signatures. Eh, probably not a big deal, though."

Melisa pulled back.

[That’s... oddly dismissive.]

---

That night, Melisa walked through Foxhollow with her essence detection fully active.

The village thrummed with life—kitsune returning home from work, children being called to dinner, couples disappearing into bathhouses or bedrooms. Each presence registered as a unique signature, building a map in Melisa’s mind.

But something felt off.

The overall essence level seemed... low. Not individually—most kitsune burned bright with magical energy. But the collective ambient essence, the background hum that should saturate a village this size, felt muted.

[Is that normal? I’ve only just now started doing this but I would have expected a whole village of kitsune to feel... brighter? I dunno.]

She focused on one of the sick kitsune she’d noticed earlier—a woman sitting on a bench, her breathing labored. Her essence signature was dim, flickering like a candle about to go out. Threads of energy leaked from her constantly, dissipating into nothing.

Melisa walked on, cataloging signatures. The baker closing up shop. A group of kitsune sharing drinks on a porch. Two lovers sneaking into an alley, their essences intertwining in ways that made Melisa’s cheeks warm.

[Holy crap, I already miss Isabella. And Armia. And Raven. And Rakia. And... well, physical affection in general.]

Eventually, she found herself back at The Laughing Fox.

The bar was busy, laughter and conversation spilling into the street. Melisa pushed inside, letting the warmth and noise wash over her.

Sylra stood behind the bar, chatting with a kitsune patron. The woman—orange hair, bright eyes, clearly already several drinks in—leaned across the bar with obvious interest.

Sylra laughed at something the woman said, her hand touching the kitsune’s arm. A brief contact, casual and flirtatious.

The kitsune’s expression shifted. Her eyes went slightly unfocused, a dreamy smile spreading across her face. She swayed on her stool, looking absolutely blissed out.

[Nim pheromones, probably. Crazy how we can do that with touch—make people feel good, lower inhibitions, without even thinking about it.]

But Melisa felt a twinge of something uncomfortably close to jealousy.

[Usually by this time of night, Isabella would have her tongue down my throat. Or Rakia would be demonstrating her "artistic flexibility." Or I’d at least be getting Essence from someone.]

Instead, she was standing alone in a bar, watching another nim flirt with customers, feeling distinctly touch-starved.

[Pathetic. I’m here for research, not sex. I can go a few weeks without getting my soul licked out through my pussy.]

Probably.

Melisa turned and left before Sylra noticed her, walking back to the cottage through darkening streets.

The essence signatures around her pulsed and flickered, each one telling stories she was only beginning to understand. The sick kitsune with their dimming lights. The healthy ones burning bright. And underneath it all, that strange sense of depletion, like the village itself was slowly running out of something vital.

Back at the cottage, Melisa found her bedroom and collapsed onto the bed.

Tomorrow she’d practice more. Learn more.

But tonight, she just wanted sleep.