Creating A Succubus Army In A Fantasy World!
Chapter 200: Start Of A New Phase!

Chapter 200: Start Of A New Phase!

Creed woke up in what could only be described as a blissful coma of post-chaos satisfaction, his face squished into a pillow that definitely did not belong to him.

He blinked slowly, as if his eyeballs had just completed a boss battle inside his skull. His body felt like it had just survived a category-five snuggle-storm.

His arm was tangled somewhere between Tierra’s smooth waist and Lilith’s hair, while Meredith’s tiny hand was somehow gripping his shirt like a lifeline, her cheek pressed peacefully against his chest.

The sheets were half-draped, half-murdered across the bed, the pillows had given up, and the duvet had been used as a makeshift fortress wall during the night.

In short; it had been a very intense night. The kind of night that made ancient warriors nod in respect from the afterlife.

And yet... something was off.

Very off.

Creed blinked again, squinting at the ceiling like it had personally betrayed him. Where was the dramatic morning yelling?

Where was the rolled-up blanket assault from the cursed monk with dark eye bags and an unhealthy obsession with forcing teenagers to knit? Where was the trauma alarm?

Then it hit him.

Today’s the day!

His body jolted upright like someone had thrown a lightning bolt down his spine.

Meredith squeaked as she rolled off him with a sleepy "mnyaaah," Lilith just groaned and pulled the sheets over her head like a queen refusing to deal with peasants before noon, and Tierra mumbled something about space trajectory and promptly turned her sexy back to him.

Creed didn’t care, his brain was already moving at light speed.

Today’s the day I start at the Ambassador’s Academy.

Today marks the glorious beginning of the Academy Arc!

He scrambled to his feet, did a weird spin, cracked his back in seventeen different places, then pointed dramatically at the sky (even though he was still indoors). "Today... the era of Creed begins!"

No one responded.

"...Tough crowd," he muttered, scratching his golden-blond head.

His morning routine began in full chaotic glory. He brushed his teeth while doing squats, washed his face with superior ice-cold water and screamed like he’d just touched a ghost, then styled his hair with the precision of a peacock about to enter a mating contest.

He flexed in the mirror, turned sideways, frowned, turned the other way, smiled, then laughed maniacally like a villain seeing his final form for the first time.

"Look at this face," he told the mirror, pointing at himself like he owed himself money. "This is the face of destiny. This is the face that’s gonna break hearts, crush rivals, and collect schoolgirls like trading cards."

He blinked.

"...Okay, that came out wrong. But you get the idea."

Then came the moment he’d been waiting for, putting on the new academy uniform. Creed had opted for the casual set, which was way more badass than the formal robes.

The casual uniform looked like it had been stolen from the wardrobe of a super-soldier sci-fi anime protagonist.

Camouflage design, sure, but the colors? Deep, royal blue with glowing orange streaks that made him look like a stylish battle commander ready to command an elite squad of awakened assassins.

The sleeves had a subtle scale-like texture that shimmered slightly when he moved, and the back had the crest of the Academy.

It was as badass as a uniform could get. And it was also extremely comfortable too, which was a bonus.

He zipped it halfway, leaving just enough chest visible to say, yes, I work out, but not enough to scream I want attention.

Then he turned to the full-length mirror and struck his pose.

Hair? Perfect golden chaos.

Eyes? Clear blue, like oceans that whispered forbidden secrets.

Jawline? Sharp enough to slice bread.

Aura? Smug, confident, slightly insane.

"Oh my gods," Creed whispered, genuinely awestruck by his own reflection. "I’d fall for me."

He leaned closer, lowering his voice like he was sharing a forbidden prophecy.

"They won’t be ready. None of them. The girls? Gone. Hearts? Snatched. Rivals? Destroyed before they even realize what hit them. Professors? Gonna fake coughs just to excuse themselves after staring too long."

He finger-gunned the mirror.

"They’ll call me Creed the Charmer. Creed the Conqueror. Creed the Casanova of Combat Class C."

He paused.

"...Okay, that last one needs work."

Still, he felt good. No, great. The kind of great that made theme music play in your head when you walked.

The kind of great that made you start walking in slow motion even when nobody was watching.

And today? Today he was gonna walk out that villa like the main character stepping onto the battlefield of destiny.

He opened the door with flair, sunlight blasting into his face like a divine spotlight. The sky was clear. The birds were singing. Somewhere in the distance, a trumpet might’ve actually sounded.

Creed stepped out.

The wind blew his uniform jacket just right.

And in his head, he imagined every single girl in the academy turning to stare in slow motion, eyes wide, hearts pounding, one of them fainting into her friend’s arms as they all whispered the same word at the same time:

"...Who is he?"

He smiled.

"I’m Creed, baby."

Pascal was already waiting at the base of the villa’s mountain trail, standing proudly with his stubby legs planted wide like he’d just won a tournament.

His bald head shone under the morning sun like it had been polished with divine elbow grease.

From the distance, he looked like a smug little general, but as Creed walked closer, something odd about the sight made him squint.

Both of them were wearing the Ambassador Academy uniform—dark blue with glowing orange lines—but there were subtle differences.

Pascal’s outfit had fewer embellishments, the material looked slightly thinner, and the sleeves didn’t have any shimmering scale like texture.

It was just plain and simple. There were no flashy trims either. It was still stylish, but... basic.

"Yo, Baldy," Creed grinned as he finally caught up. "Why do you look like you’re wearing the discount version?"

Pascal scoffed and puffed out his chest. "This isn’t a discount! It’s the basic class uniform, you ungrateful pig! Not all of us are born with glowing hair and muscles that make the heavens weep!"

Creed smirked. "So you’re saying I’m just naturally superior?"

"I’m saying the gods have a weird sense of humor."

With a shared laugh, they started walking down the winding trail, the wind gently rustling their uniforms and the sun casting golden rays across the bastion valley.

The trail was quiet, lined with majestic trees that bowed like sages welcoming them to destiny.

Birds chirped, some creature howled in the distance, and a squirrel stared them down before scurrying off like it had just recognized greatness.

As they descended, Pascal kept rattling on with his usual dramatic flair. "Brother, we must walk this path with dignity. For once we step into the academy, every glance shall judge us, every whisper shall weigh our fate, and every maiden shall—"

"—fall madly in love with me," Creed finished with a smug wink.

Pascal paused, then nodded solemnly. "Yes... that too. But also, every rival shall seek to crush you. Especially the tall ones. The tall ones are always mad."

"Noted."

By the time they reached the ground floor where shuttles were docked, they had walked for nearly twenty minutes.

The dock gleamed with silvery panels, with automated banners and signs pointing travelers to their designated transports.

Despite his morning glory, Creed couldn’t help but glance back at the villa up on the mountain, a small frown forming.

The old monk hadn’t shown up this morning.

No insane wake-up calls, no life lessons disguised as insults, no surprise whacks with a rolled-up scroll. The guy had just vanished. He hadn’t even said goodbye.

Creed folded his arms behind his head as he walked, shrugging it off after a moment.

’Whatever, he’s probably off yelling at clouds somewhere.’

After a quick ride through the bastion, they reached the official carrier port of the bastion.

They followed the blinking signs to the loading zone for the academy-bound carrier. It wasn’t hard to spot.

Dozens of other students were gathered near a long, narrow silver vessel that looked more like a luxury bullet with wings than a traditional plane.

Everyone wore the deep blue and orange uniform, but just like Pascal’s, most were wearing the basic set.

Only one other person had the elite version like Creed with the shimmering texture, higher quality, and that slick trim that practically screamed main character.

It was a girl.

She had a short, boyish haircut and a scowl that could curdle milk. Her arms were crossed, her body language screamed "do NOT talk to me," and the moment Creed’s eyes landed on her, she turned, scowled even harder, and looked away like his existence personally offended her.

Creed blinked.

’...Is she mad I’m more handsome than her?’

He shrugged, mentally labeling her "angry tsundere #1," and strode into the carrier like he owned the whole transport company.

He picked a spot beside a large window and dropped into the plush seat, stretching like a cat that just conquered a throne. Pascal plopped in next to him, his short legs swinging just short of touching the floor.

"Ahh, the carrier of fate!" Pascal declared, hands clenched in anticipation. "Twelve hours of high-speed wind riding and glorious sky surfing, all to arrive at the gates of the greatest academy in the world!"

Creed raised an eyebrow. "Twelve hours? With a speed model like this? Where the hell are we flying to, another dimension?"

Before Pascal could recite another speech, the intercom buzzed to life.

"Welcome to your journey toward the Ambassador’s Academy," the calm voice said.

"Please fasten your belts securely. This journey will take approximately twelve hours. Please refrain from standing during flight. Enjoy your trip."

Creed buckled in, still baffled. "What, are we flying to the moon?!"

Pascal was too busy making air-slashing motions and mumbling something about destiny’s lightning path.

And with that, the carrier lurched forward, rising into the sky like a myth reborn, and sped into the clouds with a low humming roar.

.....

Twelve hours later, the carrier docked with a gentle thrum and the cabin lights flickered blue.

"Dear passengers," the intercom chirped, "we have arrived at the Ambassador’s Academy transport station. Please remain seated and exit the carrier in an orderly manner. Good luck in your journey ahead."

Creed stretched his arms and cracked his neck. "Finally. My butt is flat."

But something was off.

The entire cabin had gone dead silent.

Every student, from the cocky guy with spiked hair to the shy girl clinging to a book, was frozen stiff and staring wide-eyed at the open exit. Some had dropped their bags.

Others were just standing there like they’d seen a dragon eating a phoenix while riding a unicorn.

"What the hell..." Creed muttered, unbuckling his seatbelt.

He followed their gaze toward the exit ramp and stepped out slowly. The wind hit him first; cool, crisp, charged with something... ancient.

Then he saw it.

Creed’s mouth fell open.

"Well... damn."