Reborn as a Succubus: Time To Live My Best Life!-Chapter 404: Precision

{Raven}

Lord Cassian’s routine was predictable.

Morning lectures at a part of the Academy Raven hadn’t seen, afternoons in various libraries, evenings meeting with scholars over tea and increasingly animated discussions about ancient magical artifacts. The man had seemingly endless energy for talking about dead civilizations and their enchanted pottery.

Raven followed, watched, and evaluated.

[Exit points. Three doors, two windows. One leads to a servant corridor, compromised sightlines. Two windows open to a courtyard, exposure but fast escape. Main door most likely entry point for threats.]

Isabella would call this boring. Melisa would try to engage with the scholarly discussions in hopes of figuring out some way to get stronger. Armia would stand at attention and pretend to care.

Raven, however, analyzed security vulnerabilities and cataloged potential threats.

It was comfortable work, to be honest. Familiar.

"...and you see, the runes on this particular urn suggest it was used in binding rituals, which contradicts the current theory that pre-subjugation nim culture was purely focused on seduction magic..."

They were in the Academy library, Cassian hunched over a centuries-old text while three other scholars crowded around to examine his findings. Raven stood by the window, tracking movement in the courtyard below.

Two students arguing about spell theory. A professor heading to the eastern building. A maintenance worker carrying supplies.

All normal. All accounted for.

"Raven, could you come look at this?"

She turned. Cassian gestured at the text, his enthusiasm infectious despite her general indifference.

"This symbol here. Have you seen anything like it before?"

A circular rune with intersecting lines, familiar in a way that made Raven’s stomach tighten.

"Shadow Mage marking. Binding ritual for essence suppression."

The scholars went silent.

Cassian’s eyes widened.

"You’re certain?"

"Yes."

"How do you know?"

[Because I was trained by them. Because I’ve seen those runes drawn in blood on execution chamber floors.]

"Experience."

Cassian didn’t push. He returned to the text with renewed focus, making notes about Shadow Mage connections to ancient nim artifacts.

Raven went back to the window.

---

Evening brought the meeting with scholars at the Golden Rose Inn.

Five elderly academics crammed into Cassian’s suite, arguing passionately about magical theory while Raven stood in the corner and wondered if she could die from boredom.

Still, Raven tracked exits. Windows bolted from inside—inconvenient. Door to the hallway her best escape route. Another door led to an adjoining room, currently empty but a potential breach point.

She walked over and checked the lock. Weak. Easily forced.

[Should mention that to Cassian. Or just stand here and guard it.]

The meeting dragged on. Scholars debated, drank tea, and occasionally remembered to eat the food that had been brought up.

Eventually, they departed, leaving Cassian alone with his notes.

"Another successful day!" He beamed at Raven. "I think we’re making real progress on understanding pre-subjugation nim society. The new evidence is fascinating."

"Good."

"You’ve been very helpful, you know. That identification earlier was invaluable." Cassian organized his papers. "I’m lucky to have someone with your knowledge protecting me."

"Just doing my job, sir."

"Well, you do it admirably." He yawned. "I think I’ll turn in early tonight. All this research is exhausting."

"I’ll be in the hallway."

"You don’t have to stand guard all night—"

"Yes, I do."

Cassian smiled gently and didn’t argue.

Raven took her position outside Cassian’s door, settling into the familiar pattern of watchfulness.

Midnight approached. The inn grew quiet, most guests asleep or engaged in activities that didn’t require loud conversation.

A servant passed, carrying fresh linens. Normal.

A couple stumbled to their room, clearly drunk. Normal.

A shadow moved at the end of the hallway, too quick, too deliberate.

Not normal.

Raven’s hand went to her dagger.

Three figures emerged from the stairwell, moving with professional silence. Masked, dressed in dark clothing, weapons visible.

[Assassins. Three of them.]

They spotted her. Hesitated for half a second, probably surprised that there was going to be any resistance at all.

Then they attacked.

The first one rushed forward, blade aimed at Raven’s throat. She stepped inside his reach, grabbed his wrist, and snapped it. Her dagger found his kidney before he could scream.

He dropped silently.

The second assassin threw a knife. Raven tilted her head, the blade whistling past her ear and embedding in the wall. She closed the distance in three steps, her dagger sliding between his ribs.

He gasped, blood bubbling from his mouth, and collapsed.

The third assassin was smarter. She didn’t engage directly, instead pulling back and tracing a spellsign in the air.

Raven threw her dagger. It caught the assassin in the shoulder, making her spell backfire and sending her back. The woman stumbled, pain breaking her concentration.

Raven was on her before she recovered, kicking the legs out from under her and pinning her to the floor. She retrieved her dagger from the shoulder wound, pressing the bloody blade against the assassin’s throat.

"Who sent you?"

The assassin’s eyes were wide behind her mask, breathing rapid and panicked.

"I don’t—"

"Who. Sent. You."

"Noble from Aelmark. Rival of Cassian’s. Didn’t give a name. Just paid us to kill the old man and make it look like an accident."

[Hired killers. Low-tier. Probably the cheapest option their employer could find.]

"How many more?"

"Just us three. I swear. Please—"

Raven knocked her unconscious with the pommel of her dagger.

Behind her, Cassian’s door opened. The old scholar stood in his nightclothes, eyes wide with shock.

"What—"

"Assassins. Three. Two dead, one alive for questioning." Raven stood, wiping her blade clean on the unconscious woman’s clothing. "You should pack. We’re leaving tonight."

"I... yes. Of course." Cassian stared at the bodies. "You killed them so quickly."

"That was the job."

"Right. Yes. The job." He retreated into his room, hands shaking.

Raven dragged the living assassin into an empty room, secured her with improvised bindings, and went to alert the inn’s management.

Just another night’s work.

The next morning, Raven went to Javir’s manor.

The orange-haired mage sat at her kitchen table, nursing tea and looking tired. She listened to Raven’s account without interruption.

"Three assassins. Two killed, one captured."

"Yes."

"And Cassian is unharmed?"

"Shaken but fine. I moved him to a different inn. Increased security."

Javir sighed, rubbing her temples.

"This is how things are with nobles, Raven. Especially foreign nobles researching sensitive historical information. Someone always has a reason to want them dead." She looked up, her green eyes serious. "Expect way more of that. Cassian’s work threatens established narratives about nim history. People don’t like their worldviews challenged."

Raven shrugged.

[More assassination attempts. More violence. More killing. Same as it ever was.]

"I can handle it."

"I know you can. That’s why Cassian is still alive." Javir set down her tea. "But be careful. You’re good at what you do, but even you can be overwhelmed. If you need backup—"

"I won’t."

"If you need backup," Javir continued firmly, "ask for it. Pride gets people killed."

[I don’t have pride. I have training and experience and the muscle memory of a hundred kills. Pride is for people who care about their reputation.]

"Understood."