Succubi Chapter 34. Jack of All Trades, Master of None
Honestly, I didn't know. Shadow ninja archer? Mana-blade gymnast? Fireball survivor? All of the above?
But I did know one thing—I wasn't the same kid who walked into the academy this morning hoping to just coast through Arcana classes while avoiding eye contact with Ares.
Now, the fireballs had flown, illusions had been slain, people from other houses were watching me like I was a glitch in the system, and my own instructor was taking notes like I was some living science experiment with extra sass.
And the best part?
I kinda liked it.
The rest of the training passed in a blur of movement and mana. The other students got their turns sparring with illusions, practicing defensive runes, or just trying not to pass out from mana overuse. A few even tried to mimic some of my moves—one guy tried to throw a fake shadow dagger and ended up falling over his own foot.
I might've laughed a little. Might've.
By the time the instructor clapped her hands and called us all back to line up, I was sweaty, a little out of breath, and completely hyped. Not just from the magic. But from the idea that this wasn't just a fluke.
That maybe this was who I really was now.
We formed a straight line near the center of the Arcana training field. The mana-charged tiles under our feet still pulsed faintly with residual energy, like they were trying to cool down from the chaos we'd unleashed. The faint smell of ozone and scorched rubber lingered in the air, mixing with sweat and the kind of faint herbal scent that always clung to spellcasting robes.
Instructor Elise stood in front of us, clipboard tucked under one arm like she was about to deliver a verdict. The sun was starting to tilt lower through the academy windows, throwing long rays across the space, and everything went still for a moment.
"All right," she said, calm but firm. "First day. House of Arcana."
The group collectively stood straighter. Even the girl who accidentally set her own sleeve on fire earlier tried to look confident.
"You all did decently," Elise continued. "Some better than others. Some need to improve their precision. Some"—she looked directly at me—"need to work on restraint."
I blinked. "Hey, I didn't explode anything."
"You summoned a shadow bow mid-combat and launched charged arrows into a void illusion."
I pointed at myself, eyes wide. "That's called innovation."
"It's also called 'you nearly caused a scene that turned every house's attention to this arena.'"
"Okay, but was it cool?"
A long pause. Then—
"…It was cool," she admitted under her breath. "But that's not the point."
Everyone chuckled quietly. Even the illusion guy who flopped earlier nodded in appreciation.
"Dismissed," she said to the rest of the class. "Go hydrate, rest, or review your recordings. You'll need it for tomorrow."
The others dispersed quickly, like freed pigeons.
But before I could follow the herd, Elise raised a hand.
"Evan."
I stopped in place and turned. "Yeah?"
"Stay back a moment."
Welp. That was either really good or really bad.
I adjusted my coat and waited as the others filtered out. The arena slowly quieted, the sounds of spells and chatter fading into distant echoes. The mana hum under my boots still buzzed faintly, like it knew I wasn't quite done yet.
Elise stepped closer, her clipboard now at her side instead of in front of her face. That alone told me this was going to be real talk.
"I've finished my assessment," she said without preamble.
I nodded. "All right. How bad is it? Am I already on the 'watchlist' or…?"
"You're on a list," she said flatly. "But not for being a problem."
"…Okay?"
She exhaled. "You showed a good start for an anomaly."
I blinked. "That sounded like a compliment with a built-in warning label."
"Because it is."
She wasn't sugarcoating it.
"Anomalies like you," she continued, "are rare. Students with the capability to dip into multiple combat styles and magic types. It's flashy. Impressive. You're the kind of person who gets noticed fast."
I smirked. "That much I noticed."
"But—" she cut in sharply, her tone tightening just a hair. "There's a reason why graduates who successfully master all disciplines from all Houses are almost unheard of."
That made me pause. "Wait, really?"
She nodded. "Because they don't improve."
I frowned. "What do you mean?"
"They start strong. Just like you. Quick learners. Creative thinkers. But they coast on talent, and somewhere along the way, they stop growing. They get spread too thin. Their skills plateau. They never master any class fully. And what you're left with—"
"Is a jack of all trades, master of none," I finished, my voice dropping a little.
"Exactly."
She looked me square in the eyes. No clipboard. No fireballs. Just that intense, calm focus of someone who's seen this story play out a hundred times.
"I don't want you to end up like that, Evan."
I stood there quietly, the grin I'd been wearing all day slowly fading. Not because I was upset—but because I got it. It wasn't just a warning. It was a challenge.
I nodded slowly. "Understood."
She studied me for another second. Then, finally satisfied, turned and walked away toward the storage section of the arena.
No long speech. No dramatic exit.
Just the facts.
And maybe that was enough.
I turned back toward the main path.
Yeah.
The flashy tricks were fun. The attention? Even better. But if I wanted to truly become something great?
I'd need to work harder than anyone else in this place.
That thought was still buzzing in my skull like a mantra as I turned and walked out of the arena with the other students. The sunlight filtering through the academy's high arch windows painted everything in that late-afternoon gold. Warm, bright, way too peaceful for how much destruction had just happened inside.
As soon as I stepped into the hallway, someone practically lunged at me from the side.
"Dude!"
It was Adrian, of course, eyes sparkling with that specific nerdy excitement that only happens when a mage witnesses something out of a textbook in real life.
"That was so cool. I didn't expect that. Like—the bow? The triple arrow finisher? Bro."
I grinned, still feeling the adrenaline hum under my skin. "I didn't expect it either, honestly. Total experiment."
"Yeah? Man, you're like, off to a good start," Adrian said, nodding like he was validating my life choices. "I bet you'll do even more later. You'll probably have like, shadow miniguns by the end of the semester or something."
"I hope so," I chuckled. "But hey, I've still got a lot to learn. Right now, I'm just winging it and trying not to accidentally commit war crimes in a school hallway."
Adrian laughed and was about to say something else—probably to launch into another round of theorizing how my system might evolve into a cursed magic blender—when— he nudged.
"Psst, here we go…" he said, nodding toward a girl walking toward us.
I blinked.
She was tall, graceful, the kind of person that looked like she came with her own glowing wind effect. Ears like silver daggers, hair tied back in a complicated braid, and eyes that screamed "I've read more grimoires than you've read cereal boxes."
"Evan, right?" she asked, voice smooth and accented ever-so-slightly.
"Uh. Yeah?" I said, doing my best not to sound like I was still breathless from battle training. Or, just existing.
"That bow form. You summoned that from a blade-based spell?" she tilted her head, eyes narrowing like she was studying me.
"Sort of," I said, trying to keep it chill. "Modified it. The system adapted."
Before I could even process how cool I sounded, a second voice slid in from the other side.
"That was impressive," said a lamia, her long tail coiled neatly beneath her as she approached with a confident sway. Her golden eyes gleamed with interest. "You don't usually see first-years able to evolve spells on the fly like that. And definitely not while dodging fireballs."
"Oh. Uh. Thanks," I said, scratching the back of my neck.
And then—
Another one.
And another.
Mostly girls.
At first, I didn't think much of it. A few questions. Some praise. You know—normal end-of-day admiration for the new guy who just turned a basic shadow spell into a magical performance.
But then it escalated.
The hallway was suddenly full of voices. Too many. Too fast.
"Do you use elemental enhancements too?"
"Can you show me how you moved like that?"
"Can I borrow your training notes?"
"Do you have a girlfriend?"
"Are you the same Evan who punched Ares yesterday?"
I blinked again, rapidly trying to keep up as the circle tightened around me. It was like getting flash-mobbed by a bunch of fangirls who just found their favorite idol in the middle of the street.
And yeah—I like attention.
Spotlight? Great. Praise? Feed me more. Girls asking me about my combat build? Yes, please.
But this?
This felt like I'd just been caught in a Red Carpet Gone Wrong.
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