Creating A Succubus Army In A Fantasy World!

The moment those five figures surged toward Creed, the air itself seemed to vibrate with intensity.

Each youth released a domain that painted the surroundings in their own flavor of power.

To any ordinary candidate, it would have been like staring down a council of apex predators, their pressure thick enough to choke a dragon.

But to Creed? It was more like watching five little boys try to lift a boulder with wet noodles.

His lips curled up in amusement, his blue eyes flashing as if he were genuinely curious how far they would go with their bravado.

Lilith stepped beside him, her scythe already dancing with killing aura, the blade humming like it couldn’t wait to bite into someone.

Tierra cracked her neck, the twin daggers in her hands glowing faintly as if thrilled for the chase. Creed raised one hand lazily and whispered, "Quickly kill them. I need the points."

That was all the signal they needed.

Boom!

Like twin comets of destruction, Lilith and Tierra vanished from their spots. The battle began in an instant, and it was glorious.

The youth with the silver flame domain barely had time to blink before Tierra appeared behind him and slammed the hilt of her dagger into the back of his head.

He collapsed like a puppet with cut strings.

Meanwhile, Lilith spun into the mist domain like a nightmare, her scythe sweeping out in an elegant arc that dispersed the fog with a single swipe.

Her opponent tried to cast an illusion, but her foot connected with his jaw before he could finish the first symbol. He crumpled to the floor with a beautiful spin, limbs spread like a starfish.

The remaining three hesitated, now realizing that maybe—just maybe—they had messed up. But it was too late.

Creed didn’t even need to move from his spot. He watched them try to surround him with the patience of a man watching grass grow.

They dashed forward with gritted teeth, each one activating their domains to try and collapse his senses, weaken his body, and crack his resolve.

But the moment they stepped close enough, Creed tapped his foot and released his own domain.

Everything stopped.

Their minds were dragged into a world of spears—millions of them.

A domain backed by his path of killing and freedom, it was like falling into a red sky where every breeze carried sharp edges and death itself sang lullabies.

Boom!

The spear in his hand pulsed with killing intent, and the sheer pressure shattered the desert wind, broke the rocky earth, and silenced the shadows.

One youth fell to his knees, blood leaking from his ears. The next one froze, a wet patch spreading in his pants. The third tried to scream, but his voice refused to work.

Creed didn’t even need to strike. The domain alone buried them under the weight of their own inadequacy!

They were outstanding geniuses in their own right but were being suppressed by the path!

"Honestly," Creed muttered as he ended the domain and watched them collapse one by one. "You’d think people would learn not to rush someone standing still."

The moment the last youth hit the ground, their badges flared with a soft light.

Creed flicked his wrist and summoned his own badge, the flame of merit glowing brilliantly on it like a golden sun.

One by one, the unconscious candidates’ points were drawn toward him, transformed into glowing coins that melted into his badge.

The system did its work in seconds and tallied the results.

[Points gained: 10,120.]

He blinked. Not bad.

But then, the badge flared again, and the announcement made him grin like a kid who just found his birthday cake had five layers.

[Flame of Merit Bonus Activated: Total Points Gained—30,360.]

Creed let out a soft whistle, impressed by his own efficiency. "Now that’s what I call good business."

Lilith appeared beside him, brushing her scythe off like she just finished mowing the lawn.

Tierra landed lightly next to him, flipping a dagger between her fingers. Both were looking at him with smug satisfaction.

"Can we get a raise?" Tierra teased.

"I’ll pay you in bed," Creed said with a wink.

With his new treasure trove of points, he immediately opened the hidden store function again.

This time, he didn’t even hesitate. One thought, and 5000 points were gone. A holographic floor map appeared before him, drawn in crisp red lines over a gray background.

It didn’t show people or enemies, but it revealed terrain, gates, and key areas. One glowing dot at the far edge of the map pulsed rhythmically; the gate to the next floor.

"Gotcha," Creed muttered with a grin. "Time to bounce before another fan club shows up."

But just as he was about to take a step forward, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up.

That familiar chill, the one that sliced through his bones like an icy blade, returned without warning.

Creed didn’t waste time thinking, he launched himself sideways with explosive speed.

CRACK!

The air where he had stood just a breath ago shattered like fragile glass. Space froze. Not like "cold," but like "sub zero."

The corridor itself seemed to stop existing there for a split second, becoming a sculpture of halted reality.

Frost bloomed out from that space, twisting in delicate patterns across the ground.

Creed landed in a roll, narrowed eyes scanning the environment like a predator sniffing out danger. "Well," he said with a tight smile, "someone’s got a crush on me."

A brutal, bone-deep chill that stabbed at the soul burst out from the frozen space. And Creed, narrowing his eyes, recognized that cold. No, not just the cold; the signature behind it.

From the misty frost that hissed into the air like angry snakes, a silhouette emerged.

A man, tall and slim, with posture so arrogantly perfect that it could make a nobleman feel like a peasant.

His hair was pure white, like the freshest snow untouched by dirt, and it fell in layers across his shoulder like silk strands woven by a goddess.

His skin was pale, smooth, and almost too flawless to be human. But it was the eyes—those glacier-gray orbs—that held the true danger.

Cold, condescending, and confident to a terrifying degree. And between his fingers spun a softly glowing orb of translucent blue, as if a frozen moon had been scooped from the heavens and placed in his grasp.

"Ah," the man said, voice sharp and crisp like breaking icicles. "So it really was you, Creed. How thoughtful of you... to bring the flame of merit right to me."

Creed raised an eyebrow, already feeling his battle instincts kick in.

He twirled his spear once and planted its butt on the frozen ground with a light clink. "Alan Snow," he muttered, a smirk forming.

"Still as dramatic as ever, I see. You sure you don’t want to try a less frosty entrance next time?"

Alan chuckled coldly. "You never did know when to run. But I suppose it’s a fitting way for your journey to end—right from whom it truly began."

This was no ordinary genius. No opportunistic idiot hoping for a cheap kill.

This was Alan Snow himself. The man who had cornered Creed back on the first floor by using his authority as the arena lord.

And now? Now Alan was back, stronger than ever, holding an orb that pulsed with freezing death and the confidence of someone who believed himself untouchable.

Lilith and Tierra immediately appeared beside Creed, pulsing with a flash of light and a hum of energy.

Lilith twirled her scythe with a grin, her violet hair blowing wildly from the chill, while Tierra cracked her knuckles, twin daggers already glowing.

They both looked at Alan like he was the punchline to a joke they couldn’t wait to finish.

Alan’s gaze flicked over them with faint amusement. "Summons? How quaint. You still rely on others to fight your battles?"

"Oh, absolutely," Creed replied with a lazy shrug. "Because I like winning mine."

That was all the warning Alan got before Lilith struck like a ghost from a graveyard, her scythe screaming through the air.

Tierra vanished in a flicker of speed, materializing behind Alan with her blades raised. But Alan didn’t flinch.

With a single motion, he spun the frozen orb and whispered a word that made the space around them lock.

CRACK!

A massive ice cube of reality itself snapped into place, trapping Lilith and Tierra mid-strike.

The Imperial Ice Coffin!

Creed’s eyes widened slightly. He knew that wasn’t just a move; it was an art, one born from the Ice Path and refined to a horrifying level.

It didn’t just freeze enemies, it froze space. And when it detonated...

BOOOOM!

The world shook as the coffin exploded, sending ice shards and wind flying like divine shrapnel.

But just before it detonated, Creed had already moved, yanking his summons free with a shout and throwing up his own path of the Mountain.

The blast met his path of mountain like a storm crashing into a wall of unyielding earth, and although he was forced to skid backward from the force, his summons were safe.

Instantly, he knew that Alan’s Art was on a completely different level compared to Emerald’s.

It was too powerful!

Alan floated slightly above the wreckage, untouched, cloak fluttering behind him like the wings of a frozen angel.

"Impressive," he said, looking slightly surprised for the first time. "You’re actually strong. But it won’t matter. My path of ice has reached a level beyond what you can imagine. That coffin was nothing more than a casual greeting."

Creed’s eyes flashed. "Then let me say hello properly."

He stabbed his spear into the ground, and the energy around him howled.

Bam!

His Killing Path surged like a beast off its leash, thirsting for destruction. His Freedom Path expanded his movement, turning him into a blur.

And his Mountain Path hardened his domain into a fortress. Then, he moved.

What followed was chaos wrapped in style.

Creed launched forward like a missile, dodging jagged ice spears and waves of frost.

Swoosh!

Tierra danced around Alan’s defenses, her blades cutting arcs of space that made it hard to predict her movements.

Lilith’s scythe roared with lightning on every swing, clashing against Alan’s walls of ice and shattering them with sheer will.

Alan fought like a frozen god, summoning ice shields, spears, and more ice coffins that Creed barely dodged.

But what he didn’t expect was the sheer pressure coming from three synchronized fighters wielding powerful forces.

Alan tried to lock the battlefield with his coffin again, but this time Creed anticipated it.

With a roar, he channeled all three paths into one devastating thrust—his spear igniting in crimson, multicolor, and blue light—and shattered the forming ice with a booming crack.

Crack!

The air trembled. Alan gritted his teeth, his smug expression faltering.

"You... you’re pushing me?" he growled.

Creed grinned like a demon at a buffet. "I’m burying you."

The three surged together—Creed from the front, Tierra from the back, Lilith from above—and for the first time, Alan staggered under the pressure.

He tried to retreat, but Creed was already there. His spear flashed.

BOOM.

Alan flew backward, crashing through three frozen pillars before slamming into the ground, blood dripping from his mouth. The ice around him trembled. His orb cracked.

And Creed?

Creed stood there tall, spear buzzing with three combined paths, the flame of merit still flickering on his chest like a badge of destiny.