Succubi Chapter 220. More Than Capable
Succubi Chapter 220. More Than Capable
I looked away, because eye contact was already dangerous and downward contact was lethal.
“Yes,” I said. “I’m bolder.”
Her smile grew.
“But not before the mission like this,” I added quickly, lifting one hand like a lawyer presenting evidence. “I need focus.”
Lilith tilted her head, and the movement made the fabric shift again.
Gravity continued its villain arc.
“I see,” she murmured. “Focus. Because you need to show them you’re capable.”
I paused.
That one slipped through the comedy and landed somewhere real.
I glanced at her.
She was still smiling, but her eyes had softened a little. Lilith had that annoying talent of wrapping truth in silk and placing it on the table like dessert.
I lowered my hand slowly.
“…Yeah,” I admitted. “I need to show them that I’m more than capable.”
The academy.
The requester.
Maybe myself.
Definitely myself.
Lilith watched me quietly.
Then she nodded. “Fine.”
I blinked. “…Fine?”
“Eat.”
That was it.
So I ate.
Fast.
Not Gladia-fast. I still had standards. But fast enough that one of the imps stopped mid-cleaning and stared at me like I was eating wrong. The soup went down warm. The meat gave me energy. The rice settled my stomach. Lilith had clearly planned the meal around “enough strength but not enough food coma,” which was annoyingly thoughtful and another crime against my emotional stability.
The imp placed another small plate near me.
I eyed it. “What is that?”
Lilith said, “A light sweet.”
“I shouldn’t eat much.”
“It’s small.”
The sweet was tiny.
Perfectly bite-sized.
Suspiciously cute.
I picked it up and ate it. My soul relaxed.
“…Okay, that was necessary.”
Lilith smiled. “I know.”
I finished water, wiped my mouth, and stood. The chair slid back softly against the floor. Evening had settled deeper around the dorm now. The lamps glowed warmer. Outside the windows, the academy grounds had shifted into that late-day mood where students either trained like maniacs or crawled toward dinner like wounded survivors.
7 PM was approaching.
I grabbed my necessities from where I had placed them near the doorway.
Mission bracelet? Still active.
Return crystal? Assigned at teleportation.
Uniform? Neat.
Bag? Light.
Weapons? Summonable.
Mind? Mostly stable.
Lower half? Behaving.
Lilith rose too.
The imps froze when she moved, as if their queen had given an invisible command. One straightened the edge of the tablecloth. Another carried dishes away. The grumpy one, the one who hated my kisses, stood near the doorway with my cloak in its tiny hands.
I blinked.
“…Is that for me?”
It grumbled.
Lilith translated calmly, “He says don’t forget it, idiot.”
I took the cloak with a solemn nod. “Tell him his concern warms my heart.”
The imp gagged. I grinned.
I fastened the cloak over my shoulders, checked the clasp, then turned toward Lilith.
She was watching me.
Just quiet attention.
The kind that made me want to stand straighter.
“Evan,” she said.
I stopped.
“Yeah?”
She stepped closer.
Not too close this time.
Just enough for her voice to lower, for the room to feel like it belonged only to us despite the minions pretending not to listen.
“You can go for the mission as much as you want,” she said. “Take risks if you believe they are worth it. Chase rewards if you must.”
My lips twitched faintly. “If I must?”
She nodded. “But never lower your dignity.”
The words sharpened the room.
Lilith’s gaze held mine.
“For Pride demons, dignity is not decoration,” she continued softly. “It is structure. It is will. If you bow too low for reward, if you let others treat your worth like something negotiable, it will damage you deeper than any wound.”
My fingers tightened slightly around the strap of my bag.
She knew.
Somehow, she knew exactly where to press.
Because yeah, I wanted rewards. I wanted money. I wanted freedom. But there was a line somewhere, and I didn’t always know where it stood. Poverty had a way of bending people. Need had a way of making humiliation look practical.
Lilith’s expression softened, but her voice stayed firm.
“Money can build your freedom, Evan. But if you sell your pride too cheaply, you will hate the house you build with it.”
Damn.
I hated how good that was.
Professor Callahan could never.
Okay, maybe he could if he wasn’t busy mourning lunch.
I nodded slowly. “I got it. I’m not going to crawl just because someone jingles coins.”
She reached out and adjusted my collar again. It was already fine. She knew it. I knew it. The imps knew it. But neither of us said anything because sometimes people made excuses to touch gently, and maybe that was okay.
Her fingers lingered. “Come back safe. And come back with your head high.”
I smiled faintly. “Always.”
Her eyes searched mine.
For a moment, she looked like she wanted to say more. Something softer. Something heavier. But she didn’t. Maybe because if she did, I’d have carried it into the mission like a fragile thing in my chest, and that might distract me more than the dress.
Instead, she stepped back. “Go.”
I nodded.
Then turned toward the door.
The grumpy imp opened it before I reached it, still glaring at me like this was a personal inconvenience.
I looked down at him. “Wish me luck?”
It stared.
Then grumbled.
Lilith translated, “He says don’t die because cleaning your room would be annoying.”
I pressed one hand to my chest. “Touching.”
The imp hissed.
I left the dorm smiling.
The evening air was cooler now. Not cold, but carrying enough bite to clear my head. The sky above the academy was deepening into purple and blue, clouds stretched thin over the towers. Mana lamps along the walkway flickered on one by one as I headed back toward the main grounds.
My footsteps sounded sharper on the stone path. Students moved in small groups around me, heading to dorms, training halls, club rooms, dining areas. Laughter echoed from somewhere near the Valor field. A Titan student carried two massive shields like they weighed nothing. A Saint student hurried past with a healing kit bigger than her torso.