*** Tier two
After that, the queen had me and a few other succubi—tier ones who'd passed the charm trial—line up in the center of the room. She gave a speech—which I… may have tuned out—and then congratulated us before servants handed each of us a cup filled with some kind of black liquid.
I had no idea what to do with it until the others beside me drank theirs without hesitation. So… guess I'm doing that too. I glance down at the cup. Just pretend it's coffee. With one gulp, I down it.
It tastes like… strawberry? What kind of dark ritual drink tastes like strawberry—
Suddenly, a pair of wings bursts out of my back, nearly knocking me off balance. The others show off their newly sprouted wings too. I take a moment to steady myself before checking mine. They aren't made of flesh or bone at all—they look like liquid shadow, like dark ink shaped into wings. Or… like that strange, strawberry-tasting drink I just chugged. So that's what it was? A wing-manifestation potion? Fancy.
I test them out, moving the unfamiliar appendages. It's awkward, but I manage to stretch them to their full span. They're huge—easily twice my height. With enough practice, I could probably fly. But… they're absolutely going to get in the way. Honestly, I'd rather not have them—
My wings vanish. Just—gone. Like they never existed.
…Except now there's a tattoo on my back. Is that from the wings?
The moment I think of them, they reappear again, unfolding from my back in all their dramatic glory.
Okay… that's actually pretty cool.
*** New skill
After the ceremony, I'm back home, still in my succubus form—with my new wings safely sealed away as a tattoo. No way I'm letting them loose indoors. It'll just make a mess. But… Wings. Wings! I can't stop thinking about them. I mean, who hasn't dreamed of flying? I'm itching to jump into a realm and try them out, but… Goblin Forest is definitely out. Too many trees, nowhere near enough room for this wingspan.
The Bloody Valley, though? Perfect. Plenty of space. And speaking of Bloody Valley—now that I'm tier two, maybe I can get a new skill to help me fight with those orcs. I still have a couple of unspent skill points waiting to be used.
I pull up my system screen and scan the available skills. Charm… Sleep… All the old ones are still there, but now there's a new section beneath them. Let's see… a few abilities that enhance mind magic—hard pass—some boosts to magic capacity—that might be useful—several passive options—definitely worth revisiting later—and then…
Dark Magic Bullet?
An attack spell? A real attack spell? Not a debuff, not a status ailment, not some mind trick—an actual projectile? Intrigued, I open the description: Condenses magic to form a hardened projectile. Simple enough—
Wait.
Condenses magic?
A dangerous idea sparks in my head.
I remember fighting Vespera—how I pushed overpower to the breaking point. My muscles swelled too much and started leaking magic everywhere… But if I could compress that magic…
Wouldn't that prevent it from spilling out? Maybe even push past my current limit?
Definitely worth testing. And even if it doesn't pan out, I still get an attack spell out of it.
Decision made, I confirm Dark Magic Bullet. A wave of knowledge crashes into my mind—the mechanics of the spell, and along with it, the technique for compressing magic.
It's actually ridiculously simple. So simple that for a second I almost cast it right then and there before stopping myself. No way I'm firing attack magic in my living room. That'd be like discharging a firearm indoors.
Nope. Time to head to the Bloody Valley.
*** Overpower gets an upgrade
I reappear in the vast, open valley blanketed in red flowers. It's as breathtaking as ever—really, it deserves a moment of awe—but I blow right past all that. I'm way too excited to test my new skill.
I pick a random boulder, point at it, and activate Dark Bullet.
A small black sphere forms at my fingertip and shoots forward, smacking into the rock.
Huh. Feels like firing a rubber round—fast, clean, and not super destructive. But that's not what matters.
What matters is the sensation—the compression of magic. I can feel exactly how it works. If I can apply that to overpower…
Let's try it out.
I activate overpower like normal. My body surges upward, muscles swelling until I'm back to my usual two-meter-tall powerhouse, magic flooding every fiber.
Okay… now to compress it.
I focus, mimicking the sensation from Dark Bullet. It's clumsy at first, but then my muscles begin to shrink. No, not shrink—tighten. The definition gets sharper and denser. And my skin… darkens? Like I suddenly got a deep tan.
Strange. Maybe it's because I'm using part of the Dark Bullet magic? The spell does create black projectiles, after all. Eh—if it works, I'm not going to worry about a little color change.
I manage to reduce my bulk to about 50% while keeping all the strength. Still massive, but not ridiculously overinflated.
That's just the start.
I pump more magic in.
My frame starts to swell again—60%, 70%, 80%—my skin darkens further as the energy packs in. 90%… 100%.
I'm back to my full bulk—only now my strength feels like it's been tripled, and there's still zero strain.
I could take it even further if I weren't running low on magic. Hitting this form burned through way more of my reserves than I expected, but honestly?
Totally worth it.
The power rushing through me is unreal.
Yeah. Compressing the magic was definitely the right move.
And as if to confirm it, a notification pops up in my head saying my overpower skill just got an upgrade.
Curious, I open the system window and go check my skills. Overpower is still the same, but the description has changed: an original skill created by combining allure and body-strengthening magic and further improved by compressing the magic.
So it's possible to improve skills… Definitely something to keep in mind. But for now, I want to try out this new and improved overpower. I should try to find an orc—
Oh—right. My wings. How did I forget those? I could use them to scout for orcs from above.
…Well, let's be honest. There's no way I'm actually going to fly. I can barely control these things without tipping over. Still—I really, really want to try. Even if I crash.
I drop overpower, shrinking back down to my normal size, and summon my wings. They burst from my back in a flash of dark—two huge black shapes—and immediately throw off my balance. Yeah, definitely not used to this yet.
I experiment with their range of motion. Move them left, right, up, and down. Turns out syncing them with my arms helps—raise my right arm, and the right wing lifts. Raise the left; the left wing lifts. Bring both arms down—
I almost fall over as my wings produce a strong gust of wind, launching me several feet off the ground.
Okay. These wings have way more force than expected. I should be careful.
…Or maybe not. You don't learn to ride a bike by being careful, right?
I lift both arms again—and sweep them down in one powerful motion.
*** Flying
After a couple—
…Okay, no. A ridiculous number of face-plants—I finally manage to fly. I still have to move my arms in sync with my wings, and I'm definitely not flying in a straight line, but I'm in the sky, wind in my face, and it feels amazing.
From up here, I can see the whole Bloody Valley laid out beneath me. Orc patrols, and I even spot one of their fortresses—
Looks like they're holding some kind of event. Two orcs are duking it out in the middle of a circle while the others roar and cheer. I circle around to watch.
The fight's actually impressive. Brutal, but skillful.
Eventually, one orc pins the other by placing an axe against its opponent's neck. That seems to mark the end. The loser grumbles, removes a necklace, and hands it over. Some kind of ritual? Establishing rank, maybe?
The winner lifts the necklace triumphantly, but the celebration dies instantly when a massive orc steps forward. This one is built like a siege tower—a head taller than everyone else, full armor, the whole package. Definitely an elite.
He shrugs off his armor, hefts two battle axes, and bellows:
"Grundaha!"
A challenge.
Nobody steps up.
…
Well… If no one else is stepping up, then surely they won't mind if I do. I mean—I know it's a stupid idea, but…
I withdraw my wings, activate my new overpower—about 75% bulk, big enough to look intimidating without bleeding my magic dry too quickly—and crash-land in the center of the arena with a thunderous bang.
"Grundaha!" I bellow, slamming my fists together in a display of pure fighting spirit.
For a moment, the orcs just stare at me, stunned. I really hope they're not too offended by me crashing their little event.
To my relief, the big guy suddenly bursts into booming laughter. He looks thrilled to finally have a challenger. He lifts his axes high and roars something, and the rest of the orcs start stomping their feet in anticipation.
Alright then. We're doing this.
I raise my guard and step forward. The elite orc grins, twirls both axes with surprising finesse, and advances.
The moment I enter his striking range, the fight explodes into motion. He swings one axe—I duck under it and go for his gut—but he's quick, stepping back and countering with the other. With no time to dodge, I bring up my right arm to block and brace for pain.
Except… it barely hurts. The axe rebounds off my arm like it hit steel, leaving only a faint sting.
Huh. So condensing the magic boosted my defense too.
I glance at the orc; he looks just as bewildered as I feel. Well then… looks like this fight just got a whole lot more even.
I press forward, but he recovers fast, using tight, controlled swings to keep me at bay. I eat the hits and force my way in. I finally get close enough to strike, slamming a punch into his ribs. He grunts but barely flinches. Credit where it's due: this guy's tough.
We fall into a storm of blows—punches, axe swings, blocks, and counters. The crowd roars, but I pay no heed, too locked in on him.
This guy is really something else. Somehow he manages to block all my strikes while slipping in hits of his own. If I let my guard drop even once, he'll take me out.
I can't win like this. Not head-on. But… his axes.
I shift focus. Cracks are forming along the bone blades. For all their craftsmanship, they're still just bone. Let's see how long they hold out.
I ramp up my assault, driving him to block more and more, hammering each parry with bone-shattering force.
Finally—crack. One of his axes snaps clean in half.
He didn't expect that, and I seized the opening, delivering a clean, solid punch straight to his jaw.
The giant orc topples backward, and the crowd goes silent.
Not entirely sure what comes next. The silence probably means I won… But will the big guy accept that? Heck, will the other two dozen orcs? This could go sideways really fast.
Thankfully, these orcs seem to respect their duels. The massive one pushes himself up—still a little shaky from the hit—then removes his necklace and offers it to me with a deep, resonant grunt.
I take it, not fully sure what it signifies, but I'm definitely not about to insult their customs. Around us, the other orcs start thumping their chests with a fist—probably their version of applause. I take that as my cue to get out while the mood is still good.
I drop my overpower and bring out my wings, lifting myself back into the sky.
Once I'm safely airborne, I inspect the necklace. It looks like some kind of talisman, carved from stone—or maybe bone—with a crystal embedded in the center. And it's definitely radiating magic. No idea what kind, though. I'll need someone to appraise it.