Succubi Chapter 214. Broken Heart Arc
Succubi Chapter 214. Broken Heart Arc
Felix murmured, “It means Lilith.”
I kicked his chair lightly.
Kyra’s lips twitched, but she didn’t laugh. Traitor. Silent traitor.
The lecture continued for almost an hour, somehow managing to be both academically useful and emotionally devastating.
Callahan demonstrated how shadow constructs responded differently depending on mana intent. Calm intent produced stable walls. Aggressive intent sharpened into blades. Fear made shadows scatter and weaken.
Grief, weirdly enough, made them cling. Love made them protect. That one was suspiciously specific, but also fascinating, so I wrote it down while pretending not to feel targeted.
He summoned a shadow chain around a stone dummy, then dissolved it into mist, explaining the difference between binding pressure and emotional anchoring. He showed us how shadow-element mages could hide inside their own blind spots if they trained their perception correctly. That part was cool.
Actually very cool. I wanted to learn it immediately. Shadow Step already felt natural to me, but if I could blend it with proper shadow anchoring? Damn. That would be useful. Dangerous. Stylish. Main character approved.
But every ten minutes, Callahan slid in another tragic quote.
“Sometimes the strongest shadow is cast by the person one cannot stop watching.”
“Sacrifice is not defeat. It is the language of those who love without ownership.”
“To stand in darkness for someone else’s happiness is the highest form of control.”
At that point, even Felix looked emotionally exhausted.
Adrian scribbled something on his notes and pushed it toward me. It read “Professor Callahan’s Broken Heart Arc.”
I almost choked.
Kyra saw it and pressed her lips together, shoulders shaking once.
I wrote back. ‘Stop. He’ll sense it’.
Adrian wrote. ‘He already sensed your betrayal’.
I stepped on his foot under the desk.
He suffered silently like a true friend.
Finally, after what felt like a full semester of shadow magic and romantic despair, Callahan closed the book.
The runes behind him faded.
The room exhaled as one.
“Class dismissed,” he said.
Chairs scraped almost immediately. Students began packing their things, whispering in that careful way people did after witnessing a respected adult clearly going through something but not knowing whether to offer tea or run.
I packed quickly too, because my survival instincts said escape.
But then Callahan’s voice cut through the room.
“Kyra. Adrian. Evan. Felix.”
My hand froze inside my bag.
“Stay behind,” Callahan said. “I need to talk to you guys.”
That sounded casual.
It was not casual.
Nothing about Professor Tragic Shadow Prince sounded casual today.
The rest of the class emptied with suspicious speed. Within seconds, only the four of us remained, sitting there like defendants waiting for sentencing.
Adrian leaned toward me. “This is it.”
“What?”
“He’s challenging you to a duel for Lilith.”
Felix adjusted his cuff. “Technically, dueling a professor is prohibited.”
Kyra looked at me. “Unless it’s underground.”
I stared at her. “Not helping.”
Callahan walked down from the podium slowly, his expression unreadable now. The heartbreak aura was still there, but more controlled. Like he had stuffed it into a locked box labeled ‘not during work hours’.
He stopped in front of us.
His eyes landed on me for half a second too long.
I sat straighter.
Innocent.
Never touched the dorm mother.
Definitely not.
Callahan exhaled quietly. “You four agreed to participate in the underground duel circuit again, right?”
Adrian’s grin died. “Yes, sir.”
Callahan’s gaze moved across us. “Tomorrow. Same time as before.”
The mood shifted instantly.
Even I forgot the heartbreak nonsense for a second.
“Tomorrow?” Kyra asked.
“Yes.”
Felix frowned. “That is faster than expected.”
“It’s a bigger event,” Callahan said. “More spectators. Stronger participants. Better rewards.”
Money.
My soul perked up like a dog hearing food.
Better rewards?
Now we were speaking my language.
Callahan’s eyes narrowed slightly as if he sensed my greed.
“It will also be more dangerous.”
Ah.
Balance.
Adrian leaned forward, excitement already returning. “Team format again?”
“Yes,” Callahan said. “But not exactly the same. The organizers are changing the structure. There will be more than one round. Expect irregular rules.”
Felix’s expression sharpened. “Irregular how?”
“Terrain shifts. Hidden objectives. Possibly forced split scenarios.”
Kyra straightened.
I felt my mind click into focus.
I had mobility, Shadow Step, Dark Orbs, Shadow Blade, and enough emotional instability to apparently level from affection.
Useful.
Probably.
Callahan continued, “Prepare yourselves properly. Do not treat this as entertainment.”
Adrian opened his mouth.
Callahan looked at him.
Adrian closed his mouth.
Smart man.
Then Callahan’s eyes returned to me.
His expression became unreadable again. “You especially, Evan.”
I blinked.
“…Me?”
“Yes.”
A pause.
Then, in that solemn tragic tone, he said, “Power gained quickly often tempts the heart into arrogance.”
Adrian made a tiny sound beside me.
I kicked him again.
Callahan continued, “Do not mistake attention for stability.”
That one landed.
Not just because of last night.
Because he wasn’t entirely wrong.
My level had jumped fast. Too fast. And even if it felt good, even if I felt stronger and warmer and more confident, I couldn’t just assume that meant I understood myself now.
I nodded slowly.
“Yes, professor.”
His gaze softened for half a second.
Then hardened again.
“Good. Dismissed.”
That was it.
No explanation.
No punishment.
No heartbreak confession.
Just warning and duel schedule.
We stood and headed toward the door.
And honestly? I should’ve left.
That would’ve been the smart decision.
Walk out. Pretend nothing happened. Continue my day. Go to next class. Eat lunch later. Check the Brimwood secret mission after classes. Think about the underground duel. Maybe worry about forced split scenarios. Maybe worry about the fact my level had jumped like my system was drunk on affection.
Normal student problems.
But my stupid brain paused.
Because when I glanced back, Professor Callahan was still standing near the podium, one hand resting on the edge of the desk, eyes lowered toward his book like the pages had personally betrayed him. His shoulders were straight, but too straight. The kind of posture someone used when they were holding themselves together out of pure stubbornness.
The room was empty now except for us.
And him.
And that tragic second-lead aura still hanging around his body like expensive perfume made from heartbreak.
I frowned.
Damn it.
I hated noticing things.