Creating A Succubus Army In A Fantasy World!

The dark, winding hallways of the second floor were eerily silent, broken only by the soft padding of boots against cold stone.

Creed, Lilith, and Tierra moved cautiously, every muscle tense, every sense on full alert.

At the very front of their little group was Emerald—the shadow girl they had battered into submission not too long ago.

Her real name suited her perfectly, considering her vibrant green eyes that still glowed faintly even under the dim lights.

She was walking ahead like a reluctant sacrifice, mumbling under her breath every few steps and glancing nervously over her shoulder to make sure Creed and the girls weren’t about to skewer her for fun.

Occasionally, she’d point down a hallway and mutter something useful, like, "Left here, unless you want to get chopped into meat cubes" or "Right here unless you enjoy spontaneous combustion."

Despite the absurdity of the situation—basically being guided through deadly hallways by a grumbling, salty ex-enemy—Creed couldn’t help but think seriously about everything he had learned.

He realized, with a grimace, that he had seriously underestimated the competition in this trial. Especially the so-called "Tier 1 geniuses."

After grilling Emerald earlier like a detective on steroids, Creed learned that there were actually many secret ways to enter the Pyramid of Dominion.

Some found secret rifts; others cracked hidden entrances buried in the desert. But the kicker?

The Pyramid automatically adjusted its difficulty based on the combat strength of the person entering. If someone strong came in, they’d face a brutal death course.

If someone weaker entered, the pyramid would throw slightly easier but still deadly obstacles at them. It was basically a dynamic death trap tailor-made to crush your soul.

Even inside the pyramid, every obstacle was slightly adjusted to fit your strength level, although there was a baseline for this which automatically cut off the weak participants from even having a chance.

Thinking about it, Creed clicked his tongue in annoyance.

No wonder so many idiots were still stuck outside in the desert, he thought. Only a few actually made it in so far.

The desert simply wanted you to be able to outperform yourself to gain entry into the pyramid.

Emerald had estimated that around three dozen other youths were currently wandering around this second floor, not too bad considering there were still thousands of desperate kids outside, either searching for a way in or getting roasted alive by the desert’s charming hospitality.

Suddenly, as they turned another silent corner, Emerald froze like a cat spotting a pit bull.

"Stop," she hissed urgently, crouching low and motioning frantically with her hand.

Creed immediately crouched as well, signaling Lilith and Tierra to do the same. They pressed against the cold stone walls, muscles coiled tight like springs ready to explode into action.

Emerald leaned closer, whispering just loud enough for them to hear. "The Arena Lord... it’s right ahead."

Her voice was very serious, and for once, Creed didn’t think she was exaggerating.

Hearing this, Creed’s mind sharpened like a blade. He had specifically dragged Emerald toward the Arena Lord the moment he learned its location.

Why? Simple.

He desperately needed a floor key!

If Creed wanted a real shot at reaching and staying on the duration of the timer on the throne at the top of the pyramid, he needed that key.

Of course, there was a small catch:

The higher the floor, the stronger the Arena Lords.

And judging from Emerald’s descriptions earlier, this Arena Lord was a real monster. Which meant that it was going to be even harder to gain a floor key on higher floors.

According to Emerald, the location of this arena lord was built like a nightmare fortress.

It sat at the peak of a massive artificial hill inside the floor’s wide open central chamber, giving it an insane height advantage over anyone who tried to climb.

The hill was crisscrossed with natural trenches and sharp boulders, perfect for defenders to ambush from.

Worst of all, several of those scary red-and-black knights—the Arena Lord’s elite fighters—patrolled the area constantly, making it almost impossible to sneak close without triggering an alarm.

And if that wasn’t enough, the place was absolutely littered with traps. Exploding mines, collapsing spike pits, chain binders—you name it, it was there.

Creed narrowed his eyes, quickly forming a plan.

He turned toward Emerald and said in a firm but low voice, "Stay back and keep watch."

Emerald pouted like she wanted to argue, but the contract they forced her to sign earlier basically turned her into their glorified scout dog for the duration of their stay in the pyramid.

She sighed dramatically, gave them a mock salute, and instantly melted into the nearby shadows, vanishing from sight.

That settled, Creed turned his full attention back to the looming battle ahead.

Lilith grinned wickedly, spinning her scythe in a lazy circle that crackled with faint purple lightning.

Tierra, on the other hand, checked the sharpness of her twin daggers, her grey eyes sparkling with excitement.

They were ready.

And they had no time to waste. The Arena Lord might have already sensed their presence by now. The longer they hesitated, the more fortified the enemy’s position would become.

"Let’s move," Creed said, his voice low but filled with determination.

He wasn’t stupid enough to think this would be easy, but he wasn’t afraid either. Because no matter how many knights, traps, or mountains they had to climb...

He was going to rip that Floor Control Key right out of the Arena Lord’s cold, dead hands!

The path up the artificial hill felt like creeping through the jaws of a sleeping beast.

Creed, Lilith, and Tierra moved with razor-sharp focus, each step placed carefully, every muscle tightened like a drawn bowstring.

The stone beneath their boots was uneven and cracked in places, making even the smallest noise echo unnaturally loud in the oppressive silence.

The dim light filtering down from the ceiling made everything seem uncertain; shadows stretched and twisted across the walls like lurking monsters, and every breath they took seemed a little too loud, a little too fragile.

Creed kept his eyes sharp, scanning for traps with the intensity of a hawk hunting its prey.

Emerald’s earlier "help" had been useful, but now he realized she had conveniently glossed over some details—no doubt trying to keep herself useful so they wouldn’t just toss her aside after getting the Floor Control Key.

She had used vague words like, "there might be a few traps around there," or "watch your step at the ledge,"—which now translated into "you’re going to get your legs blown off if you blink wrong."

Just as they crept past a jagged outcropping, the ground a few feet in front of them suddenly shimmered.

Creed’s instincts screamed at him, and without a moment’s hesitation, he shoved Lilith and Tierra backward just as the stone floor exploded upward with a roar, sending razor-sharp shrapnel flying like a swarm of angry wasps.

Boom!

Creed twisted in midair, a shard slicing a shallow line across his forearm, but he ignored the sting.

"Trap nodes in the rock. Hidden triggers," he hissed, grinding his teeth.

They landed hard but rolled smoothly, coming up in a low crouch.

Tierra’s daggers were already out, her knuckles white, while Lilith’s scythe crackled ominously with coiled lightning, ready to lash out.

Another step forward, and a trio of shadowy spears shot out from the ground like demonic vines.

Shua!

Creed easily managed to sidestep one, feeling the sharp air whisper past his ribs. Tierra blinked away mid-leap, reappearing behind a boulder, while Lilith parried a spear midair with a thunderous crack of lightning that echoed down the corridor.

Every thirty feet, another trap waited like a grinning executioner.

Exploding stones, snares that tried to wrap around their legs, collapsing floors that dropped into spike pits hidden under illusions—the Pyramid of Dominion was trying to kill them!

Creed’s mind raced like a machine running at full throttle. He barked orders sharply, quick strategies to skirt around dangers they could barely even see.

"Left wall! There’s a blade line! Tierra—blink past the arch! Lilith, cut the snare from above—!"

They moved like liquid, fast and fluid, dodging death by inches.

Once, a massive crushing hammer swung out of a hidden panel in the wall. It would’ve splattered Lilith like a bug on a windshield if Tierra hadn’t thrown a portal under her feet at the last second, teleporting her two meters away.

Lilith hit the ground rolling and immediately zapped a shadow mine that tried to pounce on her prone form.

Creed’s heart hammered against his chest like a war drum. Sweat poured down his forehead, but his eyes gleamed sharper than ever.

This was the battlefield he had been forged for. High-speed thinking, instant decision making and zero tolerance for mistakes!

Finally, after what felt like hours compressed into brutal minutes, they burst out of the gauntlet of death and into a wide corridor leading up to the Arena Lord’s hallway.

They paused for only a moment to catch their breath.

The air here was heavy with a suffocating pressure. It smelled faintly of iron and ozone, like the aftermath of a thunderstorm, but more sinister, more unnatural.

Before them stood the Arena Lord’s final defense: dozens of red-and-black armored knights lined the hallway, their armor gleaming dully under the torches fixed to the walls.

Each one radiated a menacing aura, standing perfectly still like statues... until Creed took a step forward.

Without warning, the nearest knight raised its sword and let out a low, grinding howl.

Oooom!

Instantly, the entire hallway came alive with the sounds of metal scraping against stone, weapons being unsheathed, and armored boots pounding against the ground.

The fight exploded into chaos.

Boom!

Creed lunged forward first, a blur of silver and blue as his spear became an extension of his will.

His path of killing roared to life, sharpened even further by his domain and intent.

One knight, a Stage 1 Silver Rank barely managed to lift its shield before Creed’s spear pierced through it like wet paper, sending the armored body flying backward like a missile.

But it wasn’t enough. For every knight he downed, two more swarmed in.

Lilith carved through the battlefield with arcs of purple lightning, her scythe flashing like a storm given human form.

Every time she spun, a knight was bisected, metal melting and exploding under the sheer force of her strikes.

Tierra, meanwhile, was a ghost. She was blinking between enemies, severing limbs and necks with her twin daggers, leaving behind trails of crimson mist.

Yet, despite their power, the knights seemed endless.

It wasn’t their individual strength that was the real threat; even the Stage 3 Silver Rank knights, though strong, weren’t tough for Creed.

It was their numbers. Their relentless, tireless numbers.

A dozen blades swung for Creed’s head at once.

Swoosh!

He ducked under one, parried another with the shaft of his spear, twisted around the third and stabbed backward without even looking, impaling a knight through the eye slit.

Another came from his blindside, only for Tierra’s dagger to punch through its neck in a flash of blue light.

Swish!

"MOVE!" Creed roared as the hallway itself began to shift, floor panels sliding aside to reveal new traps; spikes, flame vents, hidden turrets firing shadow arrows.

They dodged by instinct now. There was no time to think, no time to breathe.

Lilith deflected three incoming arrows with one furious sweep of her scythe, while Tierra blinked midair to dodge a massive bolt of black energy aimed at her spine.

Creed felt the heat of a flame vent flare inches from his face but pushed forward anyway, muscles screaming, spear flashing.

His path of mountain was enough to block all the dangers. The only reason he hadn’t used it till this point was because he wanted to minimize his energy loss.

They had no choice. The Arena Lord was still ahead and it knew they were coming.

The end of the hallway loomed closer now. It was a massive double door engraved with ancient runes, pulsing with a deep crimson light.

Behind it, Creed could sense the Arena Lord waiting. Ready for them.

Boom!

Creed gritted his teeth and thrust his spear into the final knight blocking their way, kicking the broken body aside.

He motioned sharply to Lilith and Tierra, their breathing slightly ragged but their eyes burning with determination.

They had made it.

Now, the real battle was about to begin.