Lillith – Chapter 47 – The Consequences of Failure
Hello everyone! Sorry for the delay in posting — I’ve been feeling pretty down lately, and it’s been affecting my writing. Because of that, I haven’t really liked what I’ve been producing. I deleted this chapter about four times to start over, but I think I finally managed to make something worth posting LOL.
Anyway, I couldn’t properly translate the last part of this text, so I had to use the FREAKING GOOGLE TRANSLATOR. So yeah, there might be a few… mistakes… please let me know if you find any!
Enjoy the read!
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The house was silent. The last magical lights were extinguished one by one, leaving only the soft glow of the moon streaming through the windows. The dinner prepared by Aveline, Morgana, and Seraphina had left everyone satisfied, and the calm atmosphere was almost comforting after such a long day.
Aveline and Oswin went to their room first, speaking softly, their voices blending with the distant song of the cicadas. In the other two rooms, the rest of the group settled down, each finding a place among pillows and blankets.
But Armand couldn’t sleep.
He looked to the side, noticing that Lillith still hadn’t come to bed, even after almost an hour. The space where she was supposed to sleep remained empty, the blanket untouched.
Carefully, he stood up. The wooden floor creaked beneath his feet, and he held his breath for a moment, trying not to wake anyone.
Emma slept near the door, her body curled up, messy red hair falling over her face. Armand paused for a second, watching her. A faint smile formed on his lips before he quietly stepped over her and walked to the door.
He left the room, crossed the hallway, and reached an open window. The cold night wind brushed his face. The moon was high, casting a silver light across the fields.
Then he saw her.
Lillith stood outside, a few meters ahead, near a row of tree stumps. The green glow of magic illuminated her hair and the outline of her hat.
She raised her arm, and a beam of green energy shot from her hand, curving through the air like a living serpent. The trail of mana looped, striking the first stump with precision. Then, the energy ricocheted, forming another arc and hitting the second. The third followed soon after, the sequence almost perfect.
Armand watched intently. The magical trails converged, dancing through the air like threads of light, heading toward a fourth stump positioned farther away.
But something went wrong.
The lines of energy crossed too early, colliding with a muffled crack. The light vanished instantly, the spell dissipating before reaching its target.
A moment later, a metallic sphere burst from the ground, flying at high speed. The magical “bounce ball” soared through the air, missing the stump completely.
Armand crossed his arms, observing in silence. It looked like the sphere was supposed to strike the stump at the exact moment the previous spell lifted it.
Lillith fell to her knees, frustrated, punching the ground hard enough to raise a small cloud of dust.
“Electric magic mixed with wind, creating a guided conjuration… pretty advanced stuff, huh? Who taught you that? It doesn’t sound like Morgana’s style…”
The masculine voice came from nowhere.
Lillith flinched. Her body tensed for a second, eyes wide. But she quickly composed herself, took a deep breath, and returned to a neutral expression.
“Seraphina was trying to teach me while you were away with Emma. What do you want? Why aren’t you asleep?”
Armand smiled faintly, crossing his arms over the window frame.
“You’re already pulling this off in less than a day? That’s really impressive…”
He jumped lightly down from the window, landing softly on the grass. He walked toward her, his footsteps muffled by the damp soil.
“Training at night instead of sleeping… That’s not the Lillith I know. The one I know is more… lazy, haha.”
“Did you come here just to insult me?”
She asked without looking at him, adjusting her hat and buttoning up the top of her shirt to hide her cleavage.
Armand was taken aback by the gesture. The smile faded from his face.
“You’re right… forgive me.”
He paused.
“But I’m not used to seeing you train like this.”
Lillith didn’t respond immediately. She walked over to the stumps that had been hit, carefully setting them upright again, each in a precise position.
“I need to get stronger.”
Her voice was firm, but something trembled beneath it.
“Do you have any idea what it’s like to look at a man and think he’s about to kill you right then and there? To feel like your life is over? And worse… at the hands of a man? I felt useless at that moment. I was just a doll about to be torn apart… And what would my death have meant? Nothing. I was just another way to torture Emma…”
Her breathing grew heavier, laced with anger.
Armand took a step forward, his voice soft.
“Lillith… I’m… sorry…”
She turned her face toward him, eyes gleaming with fury and shame.
“That spell made you lose your filters, made you speak only the truth… You gave Emma all the attention, while me? The worst student. The useless one…”
“I don’t think that way.”
“YES, YOU DO!”
Her shout echoed through the field. The nearby trees swayed from the magical pressure that burst from her body. The air grew heavy for a moment, the green glow in her hand flickering erratically.
A dense silence followed. The wind blew, tilting her hat—and almost lifting her skirt.
Lillith took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down. She raised her arm again, her fingers trembling.
Once more, the spell formed. Three green trails cut through the air, curving precisely and striking the first three stumps. Sparks danced like fireflies.
The fourth beam appeared right after, stronger, denser.
But the moment the lines crossed, the energy collided too early, canceling itself out in a short explosion.
The fourth stump remained untouched.
Lillith stood still, arm extended, breathing heavily. Her fingers trembled. The light faded slowly, leaving only the distant hum of nocturnal insects.
Armand approached slowly, eyes fixed on her stance. He took three steady steps and reached out, gently grabbing her arm from behind, lifting it slightly above shoulder level.
“The stability of wind spells comes from the conjuring posture. Your arm is too low—this way you…”
Before he could finish, Lillith jerked her arm down, breaking contact abruptly.
She stepped back three paces, her gaze hard.
“If you touch me again, I swear I’ll use this same electricity to fry your ba— in a way that’ll make Esmeralda’s knee strikes feel like tickles!”
The words cracked through the air like lightning.
Armand’s eyes widened. His breath caught for a second. Lillith often *threatened* his balls, but this… this was different.
Her voice carried real weight. Real fear.
She lowered her hat, hiding her face in the shadow.
“I’m sorry… I just… I’m scared…”
Her voice trembled.
“I’m going to bed now. Good night…”
She turned and began walking slowly toward the house. The sound of her steps mingled with the rustling of grass beneath her feet.
Armand stood there, watching her leave. The moonlight outlined her in a soft silver glow.
For a few seconds, he said nothing. He simply stood still, the night wind blowing through his hair.
Then he looked up at the sky, where the full moon shone between the clouds.
“What do I do now, Moon… what would you do?…”
His voice came out low, almost a whisper.
The moonlight reflected in his tired eyes. He took a deep breath, ran a hand through his hair, and turned back toward the house.
---
Armand climbed back through the window quietly, taking a deep breath, trying to calm his still restless mind after the day’s events. The first thing he noticed was Lillith slipping silently into the room…
“She’s as chaotic as I imagined… better give her time to process everything.”
Suddenly, a sweet yet firm and unmistakable voice came from the sofa, making Armand turn his head.
He looked toward it and saw Seraphina sitting there. The thin, semi-transparent nightgown softly outlined her figure, but he barely registered how sensual his superior and friend looked—his mind was still too tangled.
Armand let out a deep sigh, feeling the weight of responsibility and the harsh words he’d spoken to Lillith.
“I said terrible things to that girl…”
“It wasn’t really you, Armand…”
“I know, but still…”
Silence lingered between them, heavy and tense, as Armand stared blankly ahead.
“Listen, Armand…” Seraphina shifted, gliding across the sofa until she sat beside him. Her movements were graceful and measured, yet natural in a way only she could be.
“You’re one of the best teachers we have—if not *the* best. And sure, part of that comes from your insane power. When it comes to mages, I’d say you’re the strongest I know. But… what truly makes you an incredible teacher is how much you care about your students. Honestly, I think you’d be the only one willing to give your life for a student. We witches and mages are usually a bit egocentric, haha… but you—you’d sacrifice yourself to save one of them.”
Armand smiled weakly, but genuinely, comforted by her words.
“Thanks, Phina…”
That nickname warmed Seraphina’s heart, reminding her of the man she allowed that kind of intimacy from—not the terrifying mage she’d seen the day before.
“Come on, I’ll make you some tea to calm down so you can sleep,” she said, standing gracefully and walking toward the kitchen. Every step was soft, sensual; she moved with her hips, the moonlight highlighting her curves.
As Seraphina prepared the tea, her movements were deliberate and elegant: delicate hands lifting the pot, pouring the hot water, stirring gently with a wooden spoon. The rising steam caught the light, softly illuminating Armand’s face. He watched her every motion—the reflection of the lamp flickering in her eyes, the serene focus in her expression, the fluidity in her hands. He couldn’t help but think how magnificent she was. Seraphina was an extraordinary woman… He even caught himself wondering what it would be like if she were his wife, and…
“No, no, what the hell am I thinking?! Me and Seraphina?! She’s my boss!”
He immediately pushed the thought out of his head.
Meanwhile, Seraphina’s mind was just as chaotic.
“What else do I have to do?! I’m standing here practically half-naked in front of him, and he doesn’t even flinch?! If any other man saw me like this, I’d stomp his balls into paste! And when I *want* one to look at me, he doesn’t even glance?!”
Her mind was in turmoil, but she breathed deeply and smiled.
“Here’s your tea,” she said gracefully, placing the pot on the table.
“Oh, thank you!” Armand replied, carefully pouring into two cups.
“Oh, no, no, I don’t need one, really,” Seraphina said, stepping back slightly as he filled the second cup.
“I’ve missed this tea… it’s been years since you last made it for me. I insist we drink it together, like the old days.”
He smiled warmly.
Seraphina blushed faintly and sat down, her movement soft but filled with nostalgia.
They began sipping the tea, and Armand watched every detail of his friend—the way she held the cup, her red hair, the slight tilt of her head as she took her first sip.
“Think of something… some topic… come on, think!” Seraphina’s mind was racing, trying to control her swirling emotions.
“So… that regeneration power… does it still work? Like… after we lifted the curse?” she asked, trying to sound casual, though her intense gaze betrayed her nervousness.
“IDIOT!!! You brought up battle talk again?! Why not something cute?! Like the old days! AAAHHHH!”
Her inner voice screamed, completely at odds with her calm exterior.
“Ah… I think so, surprisingly…” Armand replied calmly, taking another sip of tea.
“Huh?” Her curiosity spiked instantly, eyes widening slightly, her attention focused on him.
“Yeah… we haven’t really had any magical battles since then, but something happened while I was with Emma. At one point, a woman kicked me in the balls…”
“Right… and then?” she asked, maintaining her composure without much reaction.
For witches like Seraphina, hearing that a mage got kicked in the balls was about as ordinary as hearing he drank water.
Armand continued, “The pain hit hard, and I couldn’t use my powers, as usual… but it faded relatively quickly. Normally, with a hit like that, I’d be down for a while, but I was back on my feet fairly soon…”
“I see… that could be useful somehow…”
“Yeah…” Armand agreed, still sipping his tea. The steam rose gently, reflecting the lamplight and adding a calm atmosphere to the scene.
“Well… we have to wake up early tomorrow to head back to the academy. So we should get some sleep,” Seraphina said as she stood, her nightgown flowing naturally with her movements, moonlight tracing her form.
“Oh, yeah, okay!” Armand replied, still watching her every motion with quiet attention.
As they reached the bedroom door, Seraphina paused, her body half-lit by the moon.
“Hey… Armand…”
“Hm?”
“Maybe… we could go out sometime? You know, like the old days?” Her question came out almost as a whisper, the hesitation clear in her posture—hands intertwined, body leaning forward slightly.
Armand looked at her, puzzled for a second, then smiled—genuine and warm.
“Of course.”
Both entered the room, preparing to sleep…
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The fire crackled softly in the fireplace, casting orange hues over the luxurious ambiance. The room was spacious, covered in Persian rugs, the black leather of the armchair reflecting the glow of the flames in small glimpses. Nyx, with her calm expression and lazy gaze, leafed through a magazine with a bored air.
Everything was in perfect harmony, until the air vibrated. A deep, distorted sound announced the opening of a portal. The purple light illuminated the room, distorting the shadows. Nyx arched an eyebrow, not moving.
From the portal, something passed through. A male body flew at high speed, piercing through the air like a cannonball. It hit the dark wooden coffee table, which shattered into hundreds of pieces, before the man tumbled and crashed against the wall.
The sound echoed, dry and heavy. Nyx's eyes widened, but she didn't let go of the magazine. She calmly turned the page.
"Good morning, Nyx."
The voice came from the portal, soft and imposing.
A female leg emerged from the dimensional rift, covered in perfectly fitted black tights. The leather heel touched the carpet elegantly. Then Eliza stepped through the portal, her majestic silhouette contrasting with the glow of the flames.
"Early morning, Eliza? Who's the punching bag?" Nyx asked, her gaze disinterested, her voice slurred.
The man stood up slowly, panting. His hands trembled, but soon they rose, and blue flames began to envelop his fists. Heat emanated through the air, distorting the space around them.
"That's Brad's replacement," Eliza replied, smoothing her white hair gracefully.
"Another man?" Nyx let out a dejected sigh.
"We need fire magic. If we don't have someone with that affinity, the plan won't work anyway... Besides, this one has a connection to Seraphina's bloodline. Mastering the Phoenix Scepter will be easy, easy."
"I see," Nyx replied, turning her eyes back to the magazine.
The man screamed and advanced. His body was enveloped in flames, and each punch left incandescent trails in the air. He aimed for Eliza's face, but she tilted slightly, dodging it with the precision of a ballerina.
The second punch came horizontally, fast and strong. Eliza twisted her torso, the movement of her hair creating an arc in the air. The fist passed inches from her face, the heat licking her skin.
The man roared and breathed a torrent of fire. The flames filled the space, consuming the air. Eliza simply extended a hand, and a translucent field appeared before her. The fire dissolved the instant it touched him, fragmenting into particles of mana.
"Finish this quickly, he'll end up setting the house on fire," Nyx said, without looking up. "And I want to finish it quickly so I can get back to reading."
Eliza smiled. "Can't I have some fun? After fighting Armand, I miss a battle I actually have to fight seriously."
"And you are?"
Eliza shrugged. "Of course not."
She turned her back to the man, relaxed.
It was the opening he'd been waiting for. With a roar, he leaped, his body engulfed in flames. His flaming fist descended toward Eliza. But she spun around in half a second, her dress following suit like a black whirlwind.
Before he realized it, her hand moved. In a precise gesture, she touched the exact spot between his legs. The pressure of the touch was gentle, but the result was immediate.
His body froze. The light from the flames in his fists went out like candles.
His eyes widened, and an involuntary groan escaped, short, sharp, and soon followed by a collapse.
"Nyx, would you do the honors, please?"
The man trembled, trying to push Eliza's hand away. He was desperate, it was ironic, like a man trying to put out a fire in his pants. He moaned, and tears welled up in his eyes while Eliza simply waited.
Nyx sighed, rising from the chair.
She walked slowly, the sound of her heels echoing on the broken wood. She stopped in front of the man, placing a hand on his head.
"Curse successfully applied," she said, and the man's body collapsed like a puppet without strings.
Nyx returned to the chair, crossing her legs and relaxing her body.
"Thank you." Eliza responded, letting go of the man's balls. When she withdrew her hand, the marks of her fingers and nails were visible on the bulge in his pants.
Eliza walked down the hallway, her heels clicking with each step. "But you know... I want to make sure he won't disappoint me again."
"Go ahead. If you need help, getting rid of useless balls is my specialty."
Eliza smiled, turning her head.
She walked down the hallway to Torne's room. The doorknob turned, the door closed behind her, and the sound of the key being locked echoed. The key slid into her plunging cleavage, falling onto her enormous breasts, something impossible for any man who cares about his balls to reach.
Torne stood up from the bed, looking up in surprise.
"Eliza, what are you... OUGHH!"
The sharp sound echoed through the room. Eliza was holding his shoulder, her raised knee still vibrating from the force of the direct impact with his balls... or rather... balls... She looked him straight in the eye and crushed his balls with her knee before releasing him. Torne fell to his knees, coughing.
“I WARNED YOU!” Eliza shouted, her voice filled with fury and authority. “I WARNED YOU, DIDN’T I?! IT WAS SOMETHING SIMPLE! EASY! YOU HAD ALL THE POINTS TO WIN! THERE WERE ONLY THREE STUDENTS! BUT NO! YOUR NUGGLES CAN’T WIN YOU A SINGLE FIGHT!”
“Eliza... ough... my ass…”
Eliza raised her hand. A magic circle expanded beneath Torne, and he was lifted into the air, bound by chains of mana.
“Listen carefully,” she said, her voice lower, almost a cold whisper. “I’m tired of handing simple tasks over to you men and your stupid balls to ruin everything. I’m not destroying them here and now because their power is important to our mission.”
She moved closer, her face inches from his. Her golden eyes reflected flames.
"But remember: as long as you're alive, your mana remains active. I could simply trap you in a hidden place and use your power infinitely."
Torne swallowed hard.
Eliza lifted his chin with a finger. "But know this... if I have to trap you, you won't just be trapped."
The magic knocked him to the ground. The magical field shimmered. She pulled down his pants, his large balls lying on the cold floor, inside a limp sack... Eliza thought it was ridiculous... it was as if testicles were begging for kicks.
"No, no... that would be too kind for a cruel killer like you... don't you think?"
She walked away, walking to a shelf on the wall, where a small anvil used for forging artifacts rested. She lifted it with considerable force.
"I'd need to leave at least one ball intact to maintain your mana and sustain the magical link. But the other... well... it wouldn't be necessary."
She dropped the anvil. The metallic clang echoed in the room.
Torne screamed, his entire body contorting. The floor vibrated with the weight of the anvil falling on his ball, which couldn't even withstand a millisecond, shattering instantly. But it soon began to regenerate... only to be shattered again...
Eliza watched with a cruel smile. "Imagine that feeling, twenty-four hours a day. A constant weight, endlessly breaking and regenerating your poor little ball... The symphony of your moans... it'll be a beautiful soundtrack."
She tilted her head, the cold smile still on her face. Torne trembled, his breathing ragged. For a moment, even he wondered if the path he'd chosen, that of villainy, still made sense.
"Let's make sure you don't mess with me again, shall we? The magic binding you will end in... four hours?"
His eyes widened in despair.
"Oh, it seems you like the idea, huh? Okay... then it will be five o'clock!"
"Eliza... Please..." he tried to say, his voice weak.
She smiled. "Have fun, dear."
Bending down, she placed a light kiss on his cheek. Then, she turned her gaze to the enormous ball flattened by the anvil.
"And you too, you useless little thing." She ran her finger along the side of the ball.
She got up and left the room, the door closing softly behind her.
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