Reincarnated as the Vampire Princess' Familiar
Chapter 59 - 13 - The Mark of the Succubus

Chapter 59: 13 - The Mark of the Succubus

«But what... Daphne, what the fuck is happening?!»

I ask with a trembling voice, unable to look away from what’s happening inside the battlefield. Amelia hasn’t just gotten back on her feet—her body is radiating a terrifying energy, eerily similar to the demonic one Draven unleashed. But for a vampire, using that kind of power is forbidden! So why isn’t Ayra saying anything?! More importantly, why hasn’t the match been stopped?! That witch is breaking the laws of the kingdom of Mildelar!

«The Mark of the Succubus...» murmurs Daphne through clenched teeth, visibly worried.

«And what the hell is that supposed to be?! An Innatus?! Some kind of demonic magic granted by Rakvaron?! I’ve never even heard of it before...»

Because of the position Daphne and I are in right now—her sitting on top of my pelvis—I can clearly feel her trembling. It’s a faint tremor, almost unnoticeable, but I pick up on it thanks to a rather embarrassing detail: the way her hips—along with her butt—sway slightly, causing some... friction with my erection, which is pressed right between her butt cheeks.

I’m getting aroused even in a situation like this...? I always complain about Sasha, but I’m just as much of a pervert as she is! How pathetic...

Judging by Sasha’s equally disturbed expression, she must know about that mysterious power too. Levreshka, on the other hand, just watches with a puzzled look—probably as clueless as I am.

Daphne gently shakes her head. «It’s neither an Innatus, nor a power gifted by the Demon God...» the woman says, taking a deep breath. «It’s a tale that dates back thousands of years, when demons and vampires still coexisted somewhat peacefully on the continent of Khavvsk. Cassian Dulcar—the ancestor of that house—was a vampire of rare beauty. Some say he was the most charming vampire to ever exist, though of course there’s no solid proof. Back then, even unions between demons and vampires weren’t that controversial, and Cassian’s wife was Ravienna Narkhalis, a powerful demon from the succubus sub-race. But while Cassian had beauty, he lacked strength. He was weak—far weaker than most vampires—and all his efforts to become stronger were in vain. However, the magic of succubi, tied to beauty and seduction, is powerful. Through an ancient and irreversible spell, Ravienna transformed Cassian’s beauty into strength, making him incredibly powerful—but also so hideous that even she, in the end, rejected him. According to legend, shattered by pain, Cassian used that same power to kill Ravienna Narkhalis... and then took his own life.»

«A very sad story, sure... but what does it have to do with all this?»

I don’t even get the chance to finish asking that question when my eyes are drawn to a terrifying sight—Amelia’s face, already far from attractive, has now become something straight out of a nightmare. And I’m not just being mean—it really is that bad! Withered strands of hair fall from the back of her head, her already prominent nose is now hooked like an eagle’s beak, her teeth have turned yellow and rotten, and pustules and lumps of flesh sprout like mushrooms all over her face. I barely manage to keep from throwing up, but worse than the sight is the sheer terror I feel from the power she’s emitting—an overwhelming force, visualized by a thick, dark red aura and a pair of membranous bat-like wings unfurling from her back, not made of flesh but composed of that same red energy.

«Ravienna’s spell didn’t only affect Cassian—it was passed down to all his direct descendants, now reduced to a small inner branch of the Dulcar family, known as the Mark of the Succubus. And the effects... well, you’ve just seen them,» Daphne adds, her voice growing increasingly worried. «Fortunately, Amelia’s beauty isn’t enough to grant her overwhelming power, but it’s certainly enough to let her fight on par with Ayra—maybe even surpass her. Since it’s neither an Innatus nor a pact sealed by Amelia with a demon, the Mark of the Succubus is one of the rare exceptions—powers not strictly tied to Sanguis magic that are still permitted in a Judicium Sanguinis. Sadly, that means the countess isn’t breaking any rules... I just hope my little sister can handle this.»

«Who would’ve thought there were still direct descendants of Cassian Dulcar left... I figured you’d all gone extinct because of your ugliness,» Ayra mocks, though there’s a trace of nervousness in her expression.

«I’ll smash that pretty little face of yours so hard your famiglio won’t even recognize you anymore, you sassy bitch!» Amelia snaps.

The flapping of those demonic wings lets the countess glide with terrifying speed, reaching Ayra in an instant—the two women are now face to face. Ayra tries a lunge with her sword, but Amelia dodges with incredible dexterity—my eyes couldn’t even follow her—delivering a punch straight to the princess’s stomach a moment later, sending her crashing to the ground after flying dozens of meters. During that flight, Ayra’s sword slips from her hand and dissolves.

Even before Ayra can react, Amelia is already on her. Only thanks to a quick sidestep does the princess manage to dodge her opponent’s first stomp, but she’s not fast enough to avoid the next attack—a full-force kick that strikes her right on the chin and slams her back to the ground once again.

A blow that hurt my mistress—and me—just as much. Not because of some strange spell, but because of the pain of seeing Ayra, the proud and valiant Ayra I admire so deeply, collapsed on the ground, helpless, lying in a pool of blood pouring endlessly from her nose and mouth.

My body won’t stop trembling, my breath is caught in my throat, my eyes are filled with tears—ready to spill. Even Sasha and Levreshka now stare with wide eyes and half-open mouths, more from shock than sorrow at seeing their sister in such a state of pain and helplessness. Or at least, that’s what I think...

After all, it’s hard to believe they’re truly feeling sorry for her. And yet... Sasha’s eyes—I swear I saw them shimmer for a moment. Just one, brief moment. It must’ve been my imagination.

My unease—no, my true despair—is so intense that, almost without thinking, I bring my arms forward, wrapping them around Daphne’s waist and resting my forehead against her back, as if seeking comfort in her presence. Just a moment later, clarity returns to me. I begin to pull away, but Daphne’s arms tighten over mine, keeping me close.

«Everything will be alright, Lyon. Don’t be afraid,» she whispers, her voice sweet yet tense. That gesture, those words—they ease the torment, even if only a little. Daphne really is a wonderful person. I’m more and more convinced of it. I’m truly lucky to have someone like her looking after me when Ayra isn’t around.

«What happened to all that swagger, little princess?» Amelia mocks, spitting on her. «Without your Innatus, you’re worth less than zero!»

«I-I could say the same about you...» Ayra replies with a pained grin, propping herself up on her arms at Amelia’s feet. «Until you resorted to the Mark of the Succubus, I was beating the crap out of you. But unfortunately for you...»

Amelia is about to land a fast, powerful stomp, but at that moment a devastating explosion of energy erupts from Ayra’s body—so intense that the ground beneath her feet splits open, deep cracks spreading like a spiderweb across the entire arena. At the very spot where the princess stands, the floor even begins to cave in, as if crushed by some unimaginable weight, forcing Amelia to leap back instantly to avoid being caught by the sudden surge of power.

Ayra rises to her feet, but only with great effort—not just because of pain or exhaustion, but due to a mysterious pressure trying to pin her down. Her skin starts to tear in several places, spraying thin jets of blood. At last, she extends her right arm forward, aiming at Amelia, her fingers slightly curled as if holding an invisible sphere.

«W-What is Ayra doing...?» I stammer, completely unable to grasp what’s happening on the battlefield.

Daphne simply gives me a satisfied smile. «Keep your eyes wide open and watch carefully, Lyon. You’re about to witness something you don’t see every day...»

Between Ayra’s half-closed fingers, a small crimson orb of energy begins to form, growing denser with each passing second. The energy pours from her body straight into the sphere in her hand. Despite the immense buildup, the orb remains nearly the same size, but its color grows darker and darker—until it turns pitch black. Meanwhile, Ayra’s right arm tears open so violently that strips of skin rip away, disintegrating into dust in the wind a moment later.

Is she using her Innatus...? I doubt it—if she were, someone would’ve already stopped the fight and declared Amelia the winner. In fact, the spectators—for the most part, the vampire nobles—aren’t complaining at all. On the contrary, they’re staring at Ayra with wide eyes, so filled with awe they’re left open-mouthed and breathless. So... what kind of spell is she using?

Any attempt by Amelia to interrupt the preparation is completely useless—the energy pouring out of Ayra is so intense that the countess can’t even get near her, as if pushed back by a repelling force field. Powerless, she can do nothing but stare in terror, retreating as far away as she can.

Then, Ayra’s lips part slightly. «S-Superior Blood Word... Vorianis!»

As soon as the spell is spoken—with unimaginable effort—the black orb between Ayra’s fingers suddenly expands, transforming into a true dark abyss that begins sucking in everything around it within the arena—except Ayra. The dark red energy surrounding Amelia is ripped away and devoured by that overwhelming force, while Amelia struggles desperately to stay grounded, with nothing to hold on to. But all resistance is pointless.

I have a million questions piling up in my throat, all blocking each other, and the only thing I manage to let out are a few incoherent, confused sounds. Fortunately, Daphne must’ve understood what I was trying to say.

«Superior Blood Word is the term used for level 6 Blood Words—the highest level that exists. But this isn’t just any Superior Blood Word; it’s THE Superior Blood Word, developed by Clotilde herself, and only a handful in the world can use it. Do you remember that night, when Clotilde talked about magical density while explaining Vis-Flamma? Vorianis works by applying that exact principle: it compresses Sanguis energy to such an extent that it forms a real black hole, which acts selectively, swallowing what the caster chooses. Even with the power boost from the Mark of the Succubus, Amelia has no way to escape the most powerful Blood Word ever created. The match is over.»

Daphne barely finishes her sentence when—just a step away from being swallowed and disintegrated by the black hole—Amelia declares her surrender.