The dueling field crackled with magical tension as two figures stepped forward. On one side stood Peter Arkwell—stoic, composed, his arcane tome already hovering beside him, alive with shifting runes. Across from him, Astarotte Sylvarien—succubus of elven and demon descent, her pale pink tail swaying slowly, her green cat like eyes brimming with determination and pride.
The duel between classes had begun, but this wasn't just a battle of skill—it was a clash of identity, pride, and deeper, unspoken feelings.
Serenil watched from the viewing platform, flanked by Piglette, Liselotte, Roanna, and Shuna. All of them sensed the emotional weight Astarotte carried as she squared off against Peter.
"She's not just fighting for a win," Piglette murmured, her round eyes narrowing. "She's trying to prove herself."
"To Peter… and to Serenil," Liselotte added softly.
Shuna crossed her arms, her pink pupils glowing. "But she chose the wrong opponent. That Grimoire is no joke."
Roanna clicked her tongue. "Let's just see if Peter gets out without using his Balance Breaker."
"BEGIN!" the arbiter shouted.
Astarotte moved first, vanishing in a blur of pink-and-violet magic. She reappeared above Peter, her whip of dreamflame lashing down in arcs of lust-laced inferno. Peter raised a page of the Eidolon Grimoire—and from its script, a scaled creature erupted. A crimson wyvern, stitched from childhood memories of fairy tales and nightmares, intercepted the strike with a roar.
Peter's voice echoed, low and resonant.
> "From dreams once dreamed… awaken now."
Three more Eidolons emerged—each one bizarre, unique: a knight made of clockwork gears and flowing honey, a jellyfish with mirror eyes, and a massive hound wreathed in frost-fire.
Astarotte gritted her teeth. Her body shimmered with enchantment, runes trailing across her skin. Her succubus aura flared, intensifying until the very air felt thick and seductive.
She whispered a charm into the wind.
> "Heart of the Moon, Bind His Will—Enthrallment Spell: Sweet Despair!"
Peter stumbled, briefly caught in a haze of desire and doubt—but the Grimoire's runes flared, rewriting his aura with sharp counter-scripts.
"Spell Evolution Protocol: Enthrallment > Clarity Ward," he chanted. A barrier shimmered into existence, pulsing with thought-stabilizing magic.
"He rewrote her seduction spell?" Roanna said, stunned.
Liselotte watched intently. "And now he'll escalate. Watch the sequence…"
Peter's fingers danced across the pages.
> "Spell Chain Initiated—Time Slow > Storm Lance > Gravity Bind!"
The field slowed. Lightning tore through Astarotte's shoulder as invisible force slammed her to the ground. But she didn't yield—her tail braced her fall, and she screamed, unleashing a blast of arcane lust-magic that tore through one of the Eidolons.
The loss hit Peter like a spike to the brain. He staggered, a hand clutching his temple.
"Too many Eidolons… he's feeling feedback," Shuna noted.
But Peter recovered, sweat dripping down his brow.
> "Balance Breaker—Bestiary Codex: Arcanum Sovereign!"
The battlefield changed. The Grimoire transformed behind him into a towering tome with radiant, wing-like pages. His robe morphed into an exosuit woven with moving glyphs.
His Eidolons pulsed with light—evolving into Alpha Forms. The frost-fire hound gained spectral wings; the honey-knight's blade split into seven.
Astarotte's eyes widened—but she didn't retreat. She raised her arms and called forth her own final magic.
> "Succubus Arcana: Velvet Moonfall!"
A pink eclipse formed above the arena, dropping dozens of meteor-like projectiles bathed in charm-based magic.
Peter's Spell Symphony activated.
> "Mirror Reflect > Devour Field > Eidolon Fusion: Wyvern + Hound."
A hybrid beast with frost-wings and magma claws roared as it devoured the arcane projectiles one by one—before slamming into Astarotte with a magical explosion.
She cried out as the force overwhelmed her barrier, sending her tumbling to the dueling floor. Her body was scorched, her tail curled limply. She tried to rise—one knee trembling—but the arbiter raised their hand.
"Match concluded—Victory: Peter Arkwell."
Silence.
Peter lowered his arms slowly, panting. The cathedral-like tome behind him faded.
Astarotte stood frozen, her hands trembling. Her eyes shimmered with tears she couldn't blink away.
"…I wasn't strong enough," she whispered.
Then, before anyone could reach her, she turned and ran—her long silver hair fluttering behind her, her tail trailing low.
"Lotte—!" Serenil called, but she was gone, vanishing down the corridor.
Piglette bit her lip. "That wasn't just a loss. That was a heartbreak."
"Should we go after her?" Roanna asked.
"No," Liselotte said gently, watching Serenil. "You should."
Serenil nodded once, face conflicted.
"She locked herself in," Shuna murmured. "I felt the barrier spell activate around her dorm."
Inside her room, Astarotte collapsed onto her bed, sobbing into her pillow, ashamed of her tears and terrified of what they meant.
All she wanted was to be seen as more than a succubus.
More than just one of Serenil's future wives.
She wanted to matter.
And today, she felt like she hadn't.