Internet Mage Professor-Chapter 94: Lirazel’s POV

Lirazel followed in silence, her footsteps light yet restless, as if her body couldn’t decide whether it wanted to walk, float, or coil around the man before her.

Her crimson eyes stayed fixed on Nolan’s back, that infuriatingly casual, unremarkable posture of a mortal man who walked like he knew things even the heavens wouldn’t dare whisper.

She chewed on her lip, not from seduction—this time—but from growing disquiet.

Earlier, back at the villa, she had watched him kill the spawn.

It was that instant! It was that easy for him!

No ceremony. No invocation. No summoning glyphs drawn in the blood of sacrifices.

Just... a machete. A mundane, pitifully crude weapon.

One that he gave her to inspect, no less. She had run every detection incantation she could recall—those taught by her sisters, her mother, and even the obscure techniques from the Withered Palace in the 8th Realm.

She scanned it for curse traces, bloodline imprints, echo curses, temporal disturbances, soul infestations, whispering malice—nothing.

Not even a flicker.

How? How did that piece of junk slay that spawn?

She remembered that spawn.

It wasn’t just any enemy—no, it was a named one.

A proto-scion of the Shattered Demon Gods, born from hatred and the void essence of the ocean.

Its flesh can be pierced by any physical weapon of this realm, but it cannot die from being pierced by mortal weapons!

Even magic from this lower realm is not supposed to harm it in the slightest.

Unless activated by an opposing divine frequency. But this man... this mortal... Nolan had sliced them like they were nothing but dirt to his new house.

Lirazel even remembered Nolan saying, "What cheap dirt to bring to my house! It needed to be flushed down the toilet!"

It was insane; she didn’t even get a crystal from it because Nolan flushed it away so quickly!

Her mind was racing.

It was crazy... very crazy...

And now—now it was these eggs?

She glanced down at the trio in her arms. Fragile things. Small. Innocuous. And yet, they throbbed with something strange. Something alien. The more she stared, the more uneasy she felt.

Was he hiding something inside them? Or had he done something to them?

Lirazel’s breath caught in her throat as a memory rose unbidden.

Back in the Upper Realm, before she had even hatched from her egg, her consciousness had fluttered, half-awake, inside that dark, warm womb-like chamber. She remembered the lull of her mother’s voice, whispering ancient truths and secrets meant only for the blooded spawn of the Thirteenth House.

"Every egg... my precious daughters... every spawn shall descend not alone," her mother had cooed in that honey-slick tone, so full of affection it bordered on obsession. "You will fall through realms with chaos sewn into your hearts. But you will not fall unarmed."

Lirazel remembered her mother’s claws drawing sigils in firelight. "We have bargained. We have bled. The other Demon Gods themselves have agreed. Each of you shall have a weapon—an artifact, blessed and cursed both—tied to your essence. They will fall as you fall, scattered across the lower realms."

Her tone had darkened with warning. "But they are random. They are wild. They may not land beside you. Some may find themselves in the bellies of volcanoes. Others may slumber beneath oceans. And worst of all... they may be taken. Found. Claimed... by enemies. By rival spawn. Even by mortal worms with no right to them."

"And these weapons," she had whispered then, voice molten with seduction, "cannot be sensed. Not by mortal magic, not even by my own daughters. They will resist detection until the moment of bond is complete."

Lirazel’s chest tightened.

That machete. The spawn. The eggs.

No... No. That couldn’t be it.

Could it?

Her gaze snapped to Nolan again.

He’s just a man, she told herself. A smug, annoying, reckless mortal with sharp eyes and a hidden past. That’s all.

But the doubt lingered. Wormed deeper. Festered.

She hugged the eggs closer to her chest and whispered, "You did something to them, didn’t you?"

Nolan kept walking. Ignored her.

"You’re not supposed to know these things," she muttered under her breath. "You shouldn’t have felt that resonance. You shouldn’t have known what they were. And you shouldn’t have been able to kill that spawn."

Her voice sharpened. "Master Nolan, tell me. What are you?"

No answer.

"What kind of eyes do you have?" she pressed. "Did you sense the eggs’ condition? Or was it some spell? Or a pact? Did you—"

"Secret," Nolan replied flatly, not even turning his head.

Lirazel frowned. "You can’t keep dodging forever. Did you make a deal with my mother? Did she whisper forbidden truths to you? Or was it the Black Library? Did you steal something, you greedy little mortal?"

"Secret."

"What about the machete? Was it bonded to a soul? Was it a spawn weapon? Did you use forbidden runes to activate it?"

"Secret."

She was visibly fuming now. "You... you absolute cryptkeeper of a man."

Still no answer.

"Hey!" she growled, wings twitching. "You’re not really going to keep all this from me, are you? I’m your succubus. Your partner. Your... Lirazel."

Nolan cringed as if the name itself pained him. "Fine," he sighed. "You want a secret? I’ll give you one."

He turned his head just enough for her to glimpse his smirk.

"In my eyes," he said, "whenever I look at something... I can see everything about it. All the information. Its type, its nature, its future path, weaknesses, hidden bindings—even the garbage you’re holding."

Lirazel blinked. "You mean... appraisal?"

"No. Not just appraisal... I mean everything."

"Even me?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.

Nolan nodded. "Even you."

There was a pause.

"Then... do it," she challenged. "Look at me. Use that power. Read me."

"No way."

"Why not?!"

"It’s expensive."

"Expensive?"

"One scan uses internet data," Nolan said seriously. "One gig costs one Mana Crystal. I’m on limited data mode. Budget mode. This ain’t a buffet."

"...You’re lying."

"Go ask your sisters if they have internet eyes. No? That’s what I thought."

Lirazel’s lips parted in confusion, then closed again in frustration. "I don’t understand your words."

"And that’s how it should be," Nolan smirked.

She pouted, full lips puffing in disappointment, wings sagging just slightly. She hugged the eggs tighter and looked away.

Nolan watched her with mild amusement. "Cute."

She glared at him.

But he was already lost in his own scheming thoughts.

"Haha..." he chuckled. "Tomorrow, I’ll collect more Mana Crystals. My new students tomorrow won’t even know what hit them. I’ll scam the little idiots right out of their lunch money."

His eyes gleamed.

"Fifty Crystals just for asking a question? Make it seventy if they interrupt me. I’ll start selling answers by the syllable."

He was so caught up in his fantasy that he didn’t even notice the next sunrise had already kissed the sky.

The next day, Nolan stepped into his classroom with the swagger of a man about to commit petty educational robbery.

He stood at the center front, chalk in hand, a knowing smile on his face.

And then—

His expression froze.

Utterly froze.

He stared at the room full of students.

And his jaw nearly hit the floor.

"What the fu—" he muttered.