Everybody was baffled by Cobalt's miraculous recovery. The doctors were stunned. His colleagues were gobsmacked. His students - even the cheekier ones - were at a loss for words. Everybody had gotten so used to the Incubus trundling about in his wheelchair that once he stepped back through the gates of the Brimstone Institute of Demonics on his own two feet, nobody quite knew what to say to him. For a while, Cobalt was worried that people would start trying to look into the cause of his sudden rehabilitation, but mercifully, he was mostly left alone for that week. Perhaps his class was put off by seeing him well again, but honestly, he welcomed the peace and quiet.

Of course, no peace lasts forever, and during one of his breaks, Cobalt found himself getting called down to the school's gymnasium, where Mr. Zespire's Applied Demonics class were finishing up with combat training.

Stepping into the grand training hall, the Incubus was nearly bowled over by the sensory overload. The Oni second-years had been hard at work, sparring with each other and testing their axework on special training dummies, and as a result, the very air within the gym was like a sauna. Thick with the stench of sweat, Cobalt spluttered a little as he stumbled over to Mr. Zespire, who was currently in the middle of bellowing at his students.

"PICK UP THE PACE, YOU FUCKING SLACKERS! I AIN'T SEEN SUCH A PATHETIC SHOW FROM WORMS LIKE YOU IN ALL MY YEARS AT THIS DAMN SCHOOL! YOU AIN'T FIT TO LIGHT A FUCKING MATCHSTICK BETWEEN THE LOT OF YOU!" the Oni teacher roared, folding his arms disapprovingly.

Upon noticing the Incubus in his midst, his face lightened up.

"Hey, Cobalt. Good to see you up and about again. How'd you do that, by the way?" he asked in a much softer tone.

"U- Um... I'm as confused as you are, h- honestly..." he stammered, watching nervously as the Oni second-years dispelled their weapons and wiped their brows.

"Heh, yeah, I guess Incubi can be weird like that... Hey, could you do me a solid?"

The Incubus nodded absentmindedly, too nervous to pay proper attention. Over at the far side of the gym, Izzbelle Suyas stood with her foot planted upon the smoking remains of a training dummy, her P.E. uniform fringed with scorch marks. Upon noticing her teacher's gaze, she bared her teeth and turned away. A week on from that disastrous night spent at his mother's house, and he was still having trouble looking his students in the eyes...

"I promised George that I'd meet up with him for... something... once our classes were finished, but as it stands, I'm running late, and I don't got time to clean all this shit up. It's morning break next, so could you maybe just put all the dummies back into storage for me?" Mr. Zespire asked, gesturing to the many battered training tools.

Cobalt nodded slowly, figuring that he had little else to do. It wasn't like he was able to afford having mid-morning snacks during breaktime anymore...

"Sure thing. Just stack them into the storage rooms, right?"

With a grin, the Oni teacher slapped him on the back with enough force to nearly put Cobalt back in a wheelchair, were it not for the reinforcement in his spine.

"I owe you one, Trayer!"

Blowing the whistle that hung around his neck, Mr. Zespire began to make for the doors, but not before he turned on his heel and yelled at his class.

"ALRIGHT, HIT THE SHOWERS, MAGGOTS! YOU STINK LIKE SHIT!"

He was met with a chorus of less-than-enthused replies. As the various Oni passed by Cobalt on their way to the gymnasium changing rooms, they snickered and guffawed at the Incubus, seemingly amused by his slight stature. He himself kept his eyes firmly glued to the floor, trying desperately not to make eye-contact, until a rough hand suddenly grabbed his collar, narrowly stopping him from bumping right into one of them.

"Tch. Watch where you're goin'. Fuckin' dumbass..." Izzbelle grumbled, pushing the Incubus out of the way.

"A- Ah, sorry..."

She replied with a grunt, before she headed off with the rest of her class, not even bothering to look back. Before long, Cobalt was left alone in the gym, surrounded by weathered training dummies and feeling a strange sense of dejection. He was used to being treated coldly by Izzbelle; why was his chest tightening up like that?

"Pull yourself together, Trayer..." he sighed, wiping his already-sweating brow.

With that said, he rolled up his sleeves and got to work. Even if he was no longer getting paid, he still believed that helping out his colleagues would be essential in maintaining a good work life. After all, if Mr. Zespire trusted him with something like this, then surely it wouldn't be long until the rest of the staff started to take him seriously... Right...?

Tidying up after the Wrath Applied Demonics class, however, was easier said than done. For one thing, Cobalt found himself working in a miasma of evaporated sweat and smoke, and after a few short minutes, he was forced to open all the gym windows in order to air the place out. Even then, the residual heat from Oni magic didn't dissipate, causing him to work up quite a sweat as he dragged the dummies to the storage room, one after the other. It was grueling work, and before he could stow away the last one, he was forced to collapse onto one of the bleachers and take a quick break.

"I- I must be out of shape..." the Incubus gasped, stretching his legs.

As much was to be expected, he reasoned. Though the doctors up at the hospital were confounded by his condition, they still warned him against overexerting himself. Spending so long sitting down was bound to have had some adverse effects, and it would take a while to build up proper strength in his legs again.

Wiping his brow, Cobalt eyed up the remaining training dummy. It was a sturdy thing, weighted at the bottom so it remained standing even after weathering the harshest of blows.

"Maybe I ought to start training... Get back into the swing of things..."

He took a deep breath and got to his feet, fists clenched with newfound determination. Striding across the scorched floorboards of the gymnasium, Cobalt took up a position opposite the training dummy. He held out his hand.

"Ocov et. Amra ilobaid," the Incubus called.

As the shadows coalesced around his hand, he reached in and pulled his Leather Whip into reality, cracking it as it gained form. One's Demonic Armament was their most trusted tool; a faithful friend that will never let them down. Even though every demon could conjure a weapon with which to do battle, the form that weapon took was unique to the individual. Cobalt's own whip differed greatly to that of other Succubi, as it lacked a lot of the extra flair and ornamentation, instead sporting a rounded handguard and a sturdy grip.

"I shall be your opponent for today," he announced, bowing to the training dummy.

It didn't respond.

Taking a deep breath, the Incubus quickly spun around on his heel and lashed out, taking advantage of the centrifugal force to give his strike an edge. The flared tip of his whip struck the very centre of the dummy, knocking it back a little. Teeth gritted, he coiled the leather cord back into his hand, only to lash forth again and again, timing his swings in order to crack the dummy across the face, again and again.

Lust demons were a physically weak people, and this was reflected in their choice of arms. Unlike most, their Demonic Armaments fulfilled a more supplemental role in combat.

Swinging his whip laterally, Cobalt caused it to wind tight around the dummy's wooden neck. Pulling hard on the Leather Whip, he reeled himself in and struck it hard with an outstretched foot, blowing it back a few feet. Taking advantage of his momentum, the Incubus wrapped a length of the whip cord around his forearm, giving him enough purchase to haul the dummy towards himself, whereupon he lashed out with a devastating high kick that rattled the dummy's casing and almost split his trousers in the process.

"Stance fluid... don't let them get comfortable at any range..." he panted to himself, gathering his whip.

Leaping off the ground, he planted both feet on the dummy's chest and kicked hard, launching the pair apart from one another. Though not as fast as Nymphs, Lust demons still relied on their evasion in battle.

"Menidutitrof ihim ad! Arbmu!"

Beholden to his will, shadows began to coil around Cobalt's arms, ready to bend and twist to his command. Teeth gritted, he reached out with both hands and splayed his fingers.

"Tneratpac!" he barked.

The shadows gathered around the dummy, forming into a web of black, inky tendrils that coiled around it and restrained it tightly. Wiping the sweat from his brow, Cobalt switched his stance, drawing one arm back as he gather magical energy into his hand.

"Ollegalf!"

Swinging his arm in an oblique arc, a mass of shadowy cords lashed forth from his hand like a cat o' ninetails, mercilessly flaying the training dummy.

But Cobalt wasn't satisfied with practicing conventional Lust demon arts. He was a Phrodival boy, snf though the settlement was isolated and backwards, it was still the crucible of many advanced psychomantic spells. After all, it was Lady Fesser herself that first discovered how to use psychological magic in combat.

With the dummy still restrained, the Incubus took a deep breath and balled his fist.

"Rolod."

He began to focus, brow creasing as black and blue sparks of magic danced from his head all the down the length of his arm. He imagined pain; excruciating, agonising pain, coalescing in the palm of his hand.

"Metatpulov."

Eyes shut with concentration, he turned his thoughts to those of pleasure, though he always struggled with this part of the incantation. It was only a vague concept that he had heard about through second-hand accounts, but when it came to the magic of the mind, he merely had to force himself in order to will it to be.

Black sparks of agony danced with navy flashes of ecstasy, swirling around Cobalt's hand like a paradoxical maelstrom.

"Amrifnoc em...!" Cobalt breathed, tightening his fist as the light grew brighter.

The Fesser Strike, possibly one of the most well-known of the Lady of Passion's martial arts. A physical palm-strike coupled with a psychological assault of both pleasure and pain, enough to render its victims mentally helpless as they struggled to comprehend the conflicting emotions.

Teeth gritted, the Incubus rushed towards the dummy, readying himself to strike forth with all of his might.

As the light in his palm grew blindingly bright, Cobalt was suddenly alerted to somebody peeking at him through the open gymnasium doors.

And just like that, his concentration was broken. The gathered magic burst and fizzled out, sending a painful shock through his body, causing him to stumble, crash into the dummy, and topple to the floor. Groaning in pain, Cobalt tried to pull himself out from beneath it, only to find its weighted base pinning him to the ground.

"The fuck are you doin'?" called a familiar voice, coupled with heavy footsteps that seemed to shake the very floorboards.

Freshly showered and changed back into her regular uniform, Izzbelle Suyas marched over to the prone Incubus, her arms folded disapprovingly.

"I, um... I was just practicing," he mumbled in reply, wincing as a few errant sparks of magic fizzled across his arms.

Rolling her eyes, the Oni grabbed the training dummy with one hand and effortlessly hoisted it up onto her shoulder, scowling all the while.

"I ain't ever seen nobody fight like... that," she stated, her voice tinged with distaste.

As she marched over to the storage room and hurled the dummy into it, Cobalt got to his feet and dusted down his shirt, fidgeting nervously as his student stared him down.

"W- Well, the Fesser Strike isn't really all that common outside of Phrodival. Martial psychomancy as a whole is something of a lost art," Cobalt stammered, trying not to meet Izzbelle's gaze.

She raised an eyebrow.

"How come you didn't use it on me, then?"

"Wh- What?!"

"Don't play stupid, dumbass! Outside the dorms that night! If you got tricks like that up your sleeve, then why didn't you use them?!"

Swallowing hard, Cobalt stared at his feet.

"I- It wouldn't be proper..." he mumbled.

He cried out in shock as the Oni suddenly grabbed his tie, eyes blazing and nostrils flaring.

"Are you sayin' I ain't able to take somethin' like that?! Are you lookin' down on me, dumbass?!" she roared, dragging his face close to hers.

"N- Not at all! It's just that-!"

"It's just what?!"

The Incubus screwed his eyes shut.

"I couldn't possibly use such a technique on a lady!"

A moment of palpable silence passed as Izzbelle stared him down, eyes wide with equal parts amusement and surprise. Slowly, her furious grimace coiled into a grin.

"Well ain't you a fuckin' gentleman," the Oni breathed, he voice growing quiet.

Before Cobalt could form any kind of dignified response, she suddenly hurled him across the gymnasium, where he crumpled into a heap on the ground.

"In case you haven't noticed, dumbass, I ain't no fuckin' lady! Now, if you're really holdin' out on me, then I want a rematch! Right fuckin' now!"

"I- Izzbelle, wait-!"

"Ocov et! Amra ilobaid!"

He felt a wave of heat wash over him as Izzbelle summoned her Bronze Axe, grinning madly as she worked herself up into a frenzy.

"Why the Hell do you want to fight again?!" Cobalt cried, frantically searching for any means of escape.

"Because I ain't satisfied with how we left things! You played dirty, bringin' up all that sappy shit! I want a good, clean fight! Oorah!"

Gripping the axe in both hands, she leaped high into the air, spinning around like a blazing Catherine wheel. Crying out, her teacher just about managed to throw himself out of harm's way. The bronze axeblade bit deep into the floorboards, splitting the wood and scorching it black.

"D- Didn't you say you would stop fighting?!" he cheeped, scrambling to his feet.

"Shut up and bear arms, dumbass!"

The situation was rapidly getting out of control, and Cobalt didn't think he was going to be able to get lucky like he did the previous time. The last thing he wanted to do was engage the Oni in open combat, but he couldn't exactly talk her down, either. Izzbelle seemed really peeved at the idea that he was holding something back from her, for some reason.

Dodging another blistering cleave, Cobalt swallowed hard. He could always resort to psychomancy, but...

Agh, it was so shameless!

"C'mon! Don't be a fuckin' pussy!" Izzbelle bellowed, splitting a number of bleachers in half as she tried to strike the Incubus.

"M- Miss Suyas, this is your final warning! Please, calm down!"

"NOT A FUCKIN' CHANCE! GRAAAH~!"

Cobalt swallowed hard.

Very well then.

Backstepping, he swallowed hard and focused. As he willed the magic into being, the Incubus' mouth began to taste like honey.

"Odibil tnacilpmi..." he breathed, wincing with shame as blueish vapour spilled from his mouth

It was a shameless technique, this, but thankfully, the Incubus had developed something of his own variation over the years. It was less effective overall, but it allowed him to retain his dignity, as well as that of his victim's.

He licked his middle and forefinger, transferring the seeping magic to those two digits.

"Ad ihim mutsug...!"

Ducking beneath one of Izzbelle's wild swings, Cobalt rapidly closed the gap, earning a look of surprise from his student. Swallowing hard, he placed his two fingers against her lips, causing a pulse of bluish magic to wash across her body. As his fingers slipped into Izzbelle's mouth, the wrathful heat died down as the Bronze Axe slipped from her grasp and faded away in a cloud of embers.

She stood there, stunned.

"Th- There," he stammered, slowly drawing his hand away.

The Dire Kiss. It was a powerful technique, one that allowed a Lust demon to completely sap their opponent of all their strength by overloading their mind with an onslaught of carnal thoughts. However, as such a spell required one to forcefully lock lips with their victim, it was a skill that he vowed to never fully enact. As things stood, all Cobalt could will himself to do was transfer a little bit of a that magical power through his fingers. It wasn't enough to completely render someone unconscious, but still carried enough power to stun them.

"You, um... You can probably see why I didn't employ this particular skill..." the Incubus murmured, cheeks burning with shame as he wiped Izzbelle's saliva off his fingers.

She just stood in place, jaw slackened with horrified silence as she struggled to form any kind of meaningful phrase. Slowly, the Oni brought her trembling hands to her face, whereupon she lightly touched her horn.

"Wh- What the fuck...?!" she breathed, cheeks burning brightly.

Sensing that he was in danger, Cobalt began to slowly back away.

"Stay calm, Izzbelle... P- Please...?"

But rather than punch him in the face, kick him across the gym or throw him through a wall, Izzbelle did something rather unexpected.

She shook her head and blinked the tears out of her eyes, before she fixed him with a look of...

Confusion? Bewilderment? Anger? Or some strange mix of the three.

"Y- You...!

She took a deep breath.

Uh oh.

"YOU FUCKIN' DUMBASS!"

With a roar loud enough to rattle the windowpanes, the Oni covered her face and ran off, leaving Cobalt alone on the gymnasium floor, stunned and confused.

She... didn't hit him. That somehow didn't seem right.

Nervously wiping his fingers on his shirt, Cobalt swallowed hard and watched as Izzbelle belted towards the main school building, hands still clamped over her face.

What... just happened...?