I Took A Succubus's First Time

Kouhei kept weaving through the chaos, his body slipping like smoke around Masayoshi's furious, crushing blows.

Each punch came screaming through the air, slicing through space itself, yet Kouhei's form twisted away at the last heartbeat, his breath steady despite the wildness of the fight.

Masayoshi moved himself relentlessly, rage twisting his expression into something feral with every muscle trembling with the urge to kill.

Fists pounded the air, booted feet cut arcs through the dust-choked battlefield, but Kouhei was already gone before the strikes even landed, his shadow flickering like a dying flame.

The truth was clear now in Kouhei's mind.

The secret behind Masayoshi's monstrous ability.

As long as something carried mana, Masayoshi could seize it and grip its thread in the loom of time and freeze it, rewind it, or force it to move however he wished.

That was why his own flesh could knit itself back together almost instantly and the raw meat and splintered bone fused by sheer temporal will. But clothes, because they were lifeless fabric without mana, stayed ruined and tattered, no matter how much he roared or cursed.

And so, Kouhei had found a way. He wrenched mana out of his limbs, dragging it down to his solar plexus, feeling it sear and churn like molten lead before sinking it lower into his stomach.

Each pull felt like tearing veins from flesh, but it meant Masayoshi couldn't lock those limbs in time.

He could still force movement through his stomach, because it wasn't technically a limb—but it made every motion clumsy and heavy, as though he was wading through blood-thick water.

Yet that was enough.

"Ngh! You seriously pissed me off! Stop scurrying around like a fuckin' cockroach and fight me like a man!" Masayoshi's voice cracked through the air, and his rage was bubbling over.

Kouhei's eyes didn't waver, his breathing slow and even, words falling cold as iron."For you to say something like that… when you're the one twisting time around me? That isn't exactly fighting like a man either."

Masayoshi's snarl deepened, jaw clenched so tight a vein pulsed in his neck."Do you think I'd get defeated if I don't use my ability?!" he spat. "Fat fuckin' chance!"

Then, maybe driven by pride, or maybe by raw fury, Masayoshi dropped the dome, the suffocating field where time bent to his will fractured like breaking glass, air rushing back into Kouhei's lungs.

The taste of sulfur and burning ash filled his mouth, the sudden freedom making his pulse quicken.

Now, Kouhei's limbs felt alive again, his body lighter without invisible chains crushing him.

"You're not fuckin' thinkin' it'll be easy just 'cause I'm not usin' my ability, are you?" Masayoshi mocked, voice low and dangerous.

But mid-sentence, Masayoshi's eyes widened, pupils shrinking to pinpricks.

His vision tilted, blood roaring in his ears—and then he was staring at the red sky of Hell itself, clouds like boiling wounds overhead.

"Huh…?"

An alien weightlessness spread through him as he realized he couldn't move.

His head had been severed, rolling free, the neck stump spraying steam and dark mist—but he'd felt nothing. No pain, not even the cut.

Part of that numbness came from the unnatural calm his power had forced into him over countless battles. The other part? It had happened so fast his nerves hadn't even caught up.

"Ngh! You bastardddd!!!" His voice tore from his throat, raw and animal.

Deep inside, something feral snapped.

His headless body, driven by will alone, clawed blindly through the ash-choked air, grabbing the rolling head.

Fingers dug into hair, lifting the head up, and slammed it back onto the neck.

Flesh fused in a flash of twisting veins and steam, the wound gone in an instant.

"You're gonna pay for that!"

Masayoshi hurled himself at Kouhei, fist cocked back, muscles bunched like steel cables. His eyes burned with hate, a predator's snarl ripping from his lips.

Kouhei's gaze stayed calm, hand tightening on the hilt of his blade, breath slow, heart thundering in his chest.

Every move drawn from endless nights of practice with Aria, each step carved into muscle and bone.

His blade moved, faster than light itself.

Masayoshi roared, charging, but Kouhei was already gone, slicing the air into blinding arcs.

Flesh parted, blood spraying into steaming mist.

Masayoshi's limbs flew off—arms spinning away, a leg split clean through at the thigh—but within fractions of seconds, they snapped back, muscles stitching, bones knitting, skin crawling back over the wounds like living clay.

"That's useless against me! No matter how much you cut me up, you won't stop me!" Masayoshi spat, voice shaking with rage.

And it was true.

Each strike Kouhei landed vanished almost as fast as it came, Masayoshi's monstrous regeneration swallowing every injury whole.

Yet Kouhei's expression never cracked.

His blade danced on, faster, sharper with every move a flash of silver under the bleeding sky. Sparks burst in the shadows, dust spun in twisting vortexes around them.

'I already know… the only way to end this is to erase him so completely he can't recover,' Kouhei thought, his pulse thrumming in his ears. 'Hina-san's busy… so it's up to me.'

Sweat traced cold lines down his cheek, evaporating in the heat of mana.

He gathered it, drawing mana into his blade until it shone like liquid moonlight, heat simmering off the edge.

Masayoshi's mouth twisted into a grin, teeth bared.

"Ha! You fuckin' idiot! If you finally understand my ability, then you're makin' a grave mistake by pouring mana into your sword!"

As long as it had mana, Masayoshi could seize it as well as freeze it in time.

Masayoshi's pupils shrank as he unleashed his power, trying to lock the blade in place.

But instead of stopping, agony exploded in his arm.

"Eh?"

His voice broke, confusion cutting through the haze of bloodlust.

A burning spread up his flesh, so intense it was beyond pain.

It was like white-hot chains had wrapped around his very bones.

"W-What… is this?! Y-You…!"

He knew this feeling.

In the ancient war, when angels and demons clashed, he had felt this searing torment before.

"You! You're not fuckin' human, are you?! Why the fuck do you have the mana of an angel?!"

And he was right.

But this wasn't just any angelic mana Kouhei wielded.

For the first time, true fear flickered behind Masayoshi's eyes as the burn intensified, tearing through him deeper than any blade.

This mana wasn't from the weakened, later generations he'd fought before.

It was more old and ancient.

The raw, overwhelming might of a first-generation angel—one that had fallen.

And the agony that tore through Masayoshi's flesh wasn't just pain.

It was punishment itself.

It was a searing, soul-deep, as if heaven's fury had finally come to claim him.

Kouhei straightened himself up, his chest rising slowly as he fixed his gaze on Masayoshi.

Masayoshi's hands were smoking lightly, faint tendrils of scorched flesh curling from his skin. It had to be because of the sword of light Kouhei had channeled into his blade.

The reason he could even do something like that was simple, yet impossible—because the mana surging through him right now wasn't only his. It was Yui's. The same Yui who was a first-generation angel that had fallen.

She had poured her mana into him when she revived him—and now, a part of that divine, corrupted power had fused into Kouhei himself.

"He became an angel? How the fuck does that even happen…?"

Watching from afar was Natsuya, eyes narrowed, brows drawn tight in disbelief.

He could feel it... that something in Kouhei had shifted, a power that simply shouldn't exist.

"It's probably because he has the mana of an angel now. That angel must've transferred their mana into him when she brought him back to life," Souichiro said, his voice calm and oddly dismissive. "But there's nothing really dangerous about a formerly dead man swinging around the power of an angel."

Souichiro's words dripped with confidence, almost mocking, but Natsuya's gut twisted.

Something felt wrong about all of this. More than just wrong—it felt dangerous.

"You don't have to worry so much, Natsuya," Souichiro added, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Masayoshi can be reckless, sure, and yeah, he's got a shitty temper—but the bastard's strong."

Natsuya shot a glance at his leader, the unease still gnawing at him, before turning his eyes back to the clash raging between Kouhei and Masayoshi.

While all of that unfolded, a different figure had finally arrived at the enemy frontlines.

Satoshi.

His gaze locked immediately onto Hina's back. She was in the middle of the chaos, shadows twisting around her hands as she hurled dark spheres that erupted like black blossoms among the enemy.

"Kukuku… I'm damn curious to see the insides of a Primordial Succubus," Satoshi rasped out, tongue sliding across the edge of his blade as if savoring the thought. His eyes glinted with sick excitement. "So let's see it!"

With a burst of speed, he dashed forward, his blade pulled back and ready to cleave.

But before he could get close enough to strike her—

Thwip!

An arrow hissed through the air, cutting across his path.

Satoshi's gaze snapped in the direction it came from. His grin twitched.

Standing there, bow still trembling from the shot, was Masaki—and right beside her stood Kyouka.