Why had Jetri been so certain Chelsey was after him? It took mere minutes for him to confirm it.

Back when he’d personally slain the Succubus Lord, he’d felt something mark him in that instant. Yet his whereabouts hadn’t been exposed afterward, so he’d gradually forgotten about it.

But now. Right here. Right now.

A searing heat flared on his arm, relentlessly reminding him of that mark.

“I’ve likely been tagged by some method. Let me see if I can block it.”

Jetri cast a spell mid-sprint, ensuring his entire squad could hear each other.

—*Third-Circle Magic: Proximity Conduit*.

Truthfully, they could’ve stood their ground against Chelsey and still held strong odds. But Jetri never fought unprepared battles.

And Jetri’s habits were often the Radiant Star Squad’s habits.

“She’s closing in fast!” Lilith suddenly warned.

Her injuries were mostly from marking Chelsey during their clash. Without fighting, she could’ve escaped easily. But those seemingly horrific—yet ultimately superficial—wounds had bought them this critical intel.

“Can we shake her off?” Jetri asked.

“Unlikely,” Lilith replied.

“Then we engage.” Jetri’s voice turned grim.

The squad moved in near-perfect sync. As Jetri halted to prepare a magic circle, Lilith began channeling elven incantations. Victoria calmly raised her hands, the rings on both index fingers glowing as a translucent cross slowly materialized over her chest.

Obscure chants and complex hand seals poured from Jetri like an assembly line churning out spells. One after another, magic circles flickered into existence around them before vanishing into the air.

The Valiant Hero and Half-Elf required far simpler preparations. Their combat readiness had little to do with setup time. One merely summoned a colossal longbow wreathed in blossoms and ancient wood; the other drew her longsword.

Chelsey approached at terrifying speed.

Even as Jetri continued etching temporary arrays, he felt that sinister, seductive aura wash over him. The sky ahead visibly bled crimson. The air grew thick with cloying sweetness, dizzying the senses.

Barely glimpsing that scarlet haze, he already saw her eerie silhouette faintly emerging on the horizon.

If Jetri had to describe her? A walking catastrophe.

He wouldn’t deny the Succubus Lord’s beauty or allure—but she defied any positive adjective. Her very presence felt profoundly unsettling.

Even as Victoria’s *Eighth-Circle Magic: Purification* continuously cleansed his mind, Jetri still felt his resolve waver. She was the embodiment of seduction and corruption.

“All present, I see.”

Only when that long-forgotten, familiar voice reached him did Jetri truly believe she’d returned.

He stared coldly at the figure hovering midair, silent.

“So cold?” The Succubus Lord covered her mouth, laughing—a sound both alluring and dangerous.

Her attire barely covered essential areas, leaving most of her skin exposed. Chelsey hovered there, neither advancing nor retreating.

“Oh my,” she suddenly gasped with theatrical delight, eyes locking onto Jetri. “You’re still alive!”

Jetri remained expressionless.

Dozens of high-tier sixth and seventh-circle spells lay primed. One step closer from Chelsey, and the arrays, spells, and Magic Scrolls would trigger simultaneously.

Yet she stopped at that precise, precarious distance.

“Death seems to have taught you caution,” Jetri remarked flatly. He knew she wouldn’t advance further.

“Indeed,” the Succubus Lord smiled. “Long time no see, Richard Jetri.”

Jetri frowned. Her motives were unclear. The Chelsey he remembered charged in without hesitation.

After a pause, he replied, “Long time no see. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“The pleasure?” Chelsey seemed genuinely startled by his formality.

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” The Succubus Lord doubled over midair, laughing uncontrollably. “You ask me… *the pleasure*? HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

Jetri’s face stayed blank. Every second she delayed increased her danger—yet she didn’t seem to care. Her body shook with mirth, hidden and exposed curves trembling suggestively beneath flimsy fabric.

“Nothing much,” Chelsey abruptly sobered, her smile vanishing as if nothing had happened—even as her chest still heaved. “Just checking on you. Seeing you alive… puts my mind at ease.”

“Your concern is noted,” Jetri said dryly. *If I stall longer, I might bury this nightmare haunting Delan’s border once more.*

“Ahhh…” Chelsey’s lips curled playfully. “Still as dull as ever.”

“Hn.” Jetri grunted a single syllable.

“That infuriating attitude hasn’t changed either. Good.” She winked. “Then I’ll take my leave.”

The Succubus Lord vanished as abruptly as she’d appeared.

“How odd,” her voice echoed faintly, “that someone who wants me dead won’t even spare a few words for chat?”

Her seductive laughter faded with her form.

The scarlet sky receded like a tide, revealing a clear night studded with stars. Life surged back into the world—frog croaks and bird calls resumed as if time had merely paused. The apocalyptic vision might never have existed.

Jetri’s expression darkened as Chelsey disappeared.

“Jetri…” Vya hesitated.

“Troublesome,” he sighed deeply. “Let’s head back. After this, she won’t slip in so easily again.” *If the Delan Kingdom hasn’t reacted yet, I wouldn’t be surprised if news of the king’s assassination arrives tomorrow.* The century-long shadow over Delan’s border had vanished, leaving the frontier complacent. Before Jetri killed Chelsey, this border had been impenetrable—even to a transmigrator like him.

“We’ll discuss how to handle this later. When I killed her last time, she must’ve left something on me.” Jetri rolled up his sleeve, revealing a faintly glowing crimson mark. “I only just noticed its shape today.”

*Trash-talking syndrome flared up again.* He didn’t voice it aloud. *This mark… why does it look exactly like those from certain adult manga back in my old world?* He prayed it wasn’t the same kind.

“Victoria, can you remove it?”

“I’ll try.” Victoria’s expression turned serious. Her slender hands hovered over Jetri’s arm, lips moving silently. A soft light gathered in her palms.

After a moment, her calm lake-blue eyes widened in disbelief.

“What is it?”

“This… this isn’t a curse…” Victoria murmured, stunned. “It feels like… some kind of blessing…”

“*What?*” Jetri blinked. “A Succubus giving blessings?”

“Never mind. Back to base first.” Jetri eyed his faintly glowing arm strangely, touching it lightly. It felt warm, nothing more.

This time, he didn’t return to the inn. He headed straight for the Border Mage Corps’ garrison. His cover was blown; hiding served no purpose now.

Seated behind a long table with a dozen mages, Jetri cut to the chase: “Does anyone here know anything about Succubus blessings?”

“Succubus? Blessings?”

“Succubus?”

“Blessings?”

Every mage echoed the same confusion.

Jetri observed their reactions from the head of the table. Mages thrived on knowledge—most mastered not just arcane arts but diverse fields. If *they* were clueless, records likely didn’t exist.

“…” Jetri sighed. “Then what about Chelsey’s resurrection? Any theories?”

“No idea…”

“This is… beyond my expertise…”

“Well… we’ve never heard of such a thing…”

Jetri fixed a deadpan stare on the middle-aged mage who’d spoken last. “Ever consider she might never have died before?”

“Huh… you might be onto something…” The mage nodded gravely.

*Why did I choose this profession again?* Jetri felt suffocated.

The mages suddenly treated it like a new research topic, diving into heated debate. Jetri opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.

*Is this a war council or an academic symposium?*

The meeting descended into academic bickering. Soon, a Sage-robed elder and a High Mage-robed middle-aged mage were physically fighting—no magic, just fists. Brutally effective fists.

A wail echoed as the first casualty fell: a sixty-plus level High Mage.

Jetri walked out, face utterly blank.

Back at the temporary quarters the Border Earl had assigned the Radiant Star Squad, Vya waited anxiously. “Any results?”

Seeing the worry on her face, Jetri only sighed.

He said something oddly cryptic: “Delan’s doomed.”

As Vya stared blankly, he sighed again, deeper this time.

“Where are Victoria and Lilith?”

“Lilith’s gathering intel again. Victoria’s healing wounded soldiers.”

“I see.” Jetri pondered briefly. “Bring me the map.”

“Right away.”

He headed toward a makeshift wooden hut. Delan’s military had no concept of tents—most structures were sturdy but inflexible fortresses or barracks. Jetri had no energy to critique their logistics; he barely understood them himself.

Inside, he switched on the magelight. Vya followed, map in hand.

Jetri spread it out. Under the light, fortresses and key terrain features stood out clearly. This map, borrowed from the border garrison, was unusually detailed.

He didn’t notice how naturally he’d ordered Vya around—as if he were the squad leader.

Nor did Vya seem to mind.

"Last time, we went from here," Jetri said, his finger gently tapping a blank plain on the map. "I'd planned to start from here again this time."

"Hmm." Vya nodded, offering no comment.

"But now... we might need to take out Chelsey first." His finger slid to another poorly marked area. "The last route wasn't recorded. Lilith might need to map it out."

"Lilith doesn't know cartography," Vya said, a hint of confusion in her gaze as she looked at Jetri.

"So I'll accompany her." He sighed.

"No." Vya shook her head, expression neutral and devoid of personal feeling.

"We must deal with her."

"Send Victoria then."

"Does Victoria know mapmaking?"

"Your movements now are like a firefly in pitch darkness. This isn't adventuring—it's suicide."

"If she comes, I'll make her die again."

"I find that hard to believe." Vya shook her head again. "I admit, your calculation of her death was brilliant once. But it can't happen twice. She's changed significantly."

"You mean she's grown cautious?" Jetri chuckled. "Not at all. Her incursion deep into Delan territory remains foolish. She's only trying to prove she's not the same as before."

"That's blind arrogance." Vya frowned slightly.

"Perhaps it's confidence." Jetri smiled.

Vya's golden eyes locked fiercely onto Jetri's. He didn't flinch. She saw her own reflection in his pupils, knew he wouldn't yield—and neither would she.

"That reason doesn't justify your suicide mission." Vya pressed forward slightly.

"Vya, I'm already a Sage. One level from Archsage. Lilith is level 93. Together, we're still 22 levels above her."

"Richard! Are you being shameless?!" Vya snapped, her face instantly close to his. Anger burned plainly on her features. Forehead to forehead. Nose to nose. Her golden eyes blazed like the sun. Jetri's dark eyes stayed calm.

"She wants to kill me—but not in battle," Jetri explained. "Succubi have a habit. After defeating a powerful male, they engage in ** and kill him during **."

"So there's room to maneuver. At worst, I sell my looks—"

"No!" Vya exploded. "I forbid it!"

"Then it can't be you..." Jetri said, smiling faintly but frowning. "Only two males in the squad..."

Vya took a deep breath, calming gradually. "The risk is too high."

"Come on, Captain. We're hunting the Demon King, not hosting a dinner party. Nothing's safe," Jetri sighed with a helpless smile.

"Still too dangerous..." Vya frowned silently.

"Jetri, you're back?" Victoria pushed the door open.

Jetri and Vya both turned toward her. Victoria froze, seeing them pressed impossibly close—as if about to kiss. Dizziness and suffocation hit her harder than Jetri's earlier rejection.

"I-I... am I interrupting?" she asked mechanically.

"Your Highness, what are you—" Lilith stepped out behind Victoria. Her crimson eyes narrowed instantly at the sight of Jetri and Vya.

"Perfect timing," Vya said, face still flushed with residual anger. "You tell him—" She started to point at Jetri but realized their proximity made it impossible. A blush crept up her perfect cheeks. Jetri raised an eyebrow, clueless.

Vya stepped back a subtle distance. "Jetri just proposed personally mapping Chelsey's domain in Demon Clan territory."

"No."

"Not good."

The refusals came almost simultaneously. Vya shot Jetri a 'see, I told you' look.

"Right? I said no. Especially since he's also planning to—" What followed was a chorus of scolding. Jetri still didn't grasp his teammates' fierce resistance. He'd be the one sacrificing. Last time against the Demon King, hadn't they used every trick?

"Alright, alright—I'll rethink..." Jetri relented, seeing their unanimous refusal. "Given Chelsey's nature, she won't skip border battles after resurrection. We could kill her then?" He offered a moderate suggestion.

"Agreed."

"I concur."

"Much better than the last."

This time, unanimous approval. Jetri felt something was off—but couldn't pinpoint what.