Reborn as a Succubus: Time To Live My Best Life!-Chapter 412: Selfish

{Melisa}

"Blood Magic," Zephyra said, "is unstable by nature."

They sat in the cottage’s common room, a collection of smooth stones spread on the table between them. Morning light streamed through the windows, catching dust motes in the air.

"The spells deteriorate over time. You’ve experienced this yourself, haven’t you?"

Melisa nodded, thinking of King Aldric. The healing spell she’d used to save him had worked, but only temporarily. The magic had faded, and eventually...

[Let’s not think about that.]

"The question," Zephyra continued, "is whether there’s a way to make them last longer. To stabilize them. Without you needing to keep having sex with afflicted people, of course."

"Is there?"

"I have a theory." Zephyra picked up one of the stones, turning it over in her fingers. "Most spells are cast and released. They do their work and then dissipate. But what if you could anchor a spell to something? An object. A person. A location. Give it something to hold onto instead of letting it drift."

[Anchor it. Like...]

"Runes," Melisa said.

Zephyra’s eyebrows rose.

"I used to make them. Back when I was first learning magic," Melisa explained. The memory felt distant now, like something from another life. Which, technically, it was. "I’d draw spellsigns on objects and infuse them with essence. The magic would stay in the object until someone activated it."

"Perfect." Zephyra set the stone down in front of Melisa. "Same principle. Instead of casting a spell into the air and hoping it sticks, you anchor it to something physical. The object becomes a vessel, holding the magic in place."

"And that works with Blood Magic?"

"In theory. Let’s find out."

Melisa picked up the stone. It was smooth, gray, unremarkable. Just a rock from the garden outside.

"Start simple," Zephyra said. "A basic healing spell. Cast it, but instead of releasing it, push it into the stone. Imagine the magic taking root there, like a plant in soil."

Melisa closed her eyes.

She drew the spellsign for healing, the familiar pattern flowing from her fingers. The incantation came automatically, words she’d spoken a hundred times. Essence gathered, warm and bright.

But instead of releasing the spell outward, she directed it down. Into the stone. Through its surface, into its core.

The magic resisted at first. It wanted to disperse, to do its work and fade. But Melisa pushed harder, visualizing roots growing from the spell, anchoring it in place.

The stone grew warm in her hand.

She opened her eyes.

"It worked," she breathed.

The stone glowed faintly, a soft golden light pulsing beneath its surface. She could feel the healing magic inside it, stable and contained.

"Now we wait," Zephyra said. "See how long it lasts."

They checked it every hour. After one hour, the spell was still strong. After two, still there. After four, just as potent as when Melisa had cast it.

By evening, when Melisa finally left for the bar, the stone was still glowing.

"Impressive," Zephyra said, examining it one more time. "Very impressive. This could change everything we know about Blood Magic stability."

[Holy shit. It actually worked.]

---

Melisa practically floated to The Laughing Fox.

"You look happy," Sylra said as Melisa slid onto her usual stool.

"Good day. Really good day."

"Training went well?"

"Better than well." Melisa couldn’t keep the grin off her face. "I figured out how to make my spells last longer. Way longer. Zephyra thinks it could be a major breakthrough."

Sylra’s smile was warm.

"That calls for a celebration."

She poured something stronger than the usual honey wine, something that burned pleasantly on the way down. Melisa drank, feeling the warmth spread through her chest.

The bar was quiet tonight. Just a handful of patrons, most of them absorbed in their own conversations. It felt private. Intimate.

Eventually, they ended up in Sylra’s room.

They lay tangled together on the bed, pleasantly tired, Sylra’s fingers tracing idle patterns on Melisa’s stomach. The window was open, letting in cool night air and the distant sounds of the village.

"Can I ask you something?" Sylra said.

"Mm?"

"What do you want? Really want. Not the polite answer you’d give a queen or a council. The real one."

Melisa thought about it.

"I want to make things better for nim," she said finally. "To prove we’re not lesser. That we deserve the same rights, the same opportunities, the same respect as anyone else." She stared at the ceiling. "I want to change Syux. Make it a place where nim kids don’t grow up being told they’re worthless."

[May as well give her the... unselfish goals I have, hehe.]

"That’s a big goal."

"Someone has to try."

Sylra was quiet for a moment. When she spoke again, her voice was thoughtful.

"What if you could do more than that?"

"What do you mean?"

"You talk about proving things. About earning respect, changing minds, working within the system." Sylra shifted, propping herself up on one elbow to look at Melisa. "But what if nim didn’t have to prove anything? What if we just... took what we deserved?"

Melisa laughed.

"What, like a revolution?"

Sylra didn’t laugh.

Her red eyes were serious, intent, holding Melisa’s gaze with an intensity that made something prickle at the back of her neck.

"Nim used to rule, you know. I heard some people talking about that. Before the humans turned the tables on us. We had power. Real power." Her voice was soft, almost dreamy. "What if we could have that again?"

[Okay, that’s... weird.]

"Sylra, I’m not—"

Then Sylra smiled, and the intensity vanished like it had never been there.

"I’m just being dramatic. Ignore me." She leaned down, pressing a kiss to Melisa’s collarbone. "Too much wine."

"You sure?"

"Positive." Another kiss, lower this time. "Let’s talk about something else. Or better yet, let’s not talk at all."

Her mouth found Melisa’s, warm and insistent, and Melisa let herself be pulled back into the kiss.

But even as Sylra’s hands wandered and her body responded, that moment lingered in her mind.

The look in Sylra’s eyes. The seriousness beneath the smile. 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑛𝘰𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝒸𝑜𝘮

[She was joking. Obviously she was joking.]

Sylra’s tongue did something distracting, and Melisa stopped thinking about it.

[Obviously.]