chapter 112: Rong Is Teased by Her Wicked Master (2)
As she relaxed, her thoughts returned to the earlier conversation.
Though she had found a direction for her class, the road ahead was still fraught with challenges.
Creating a new class was no small feat.
A class represented a complete and logical system of rules, with gods typically serving as the initial pioneers.
For Rong to forge a completely new class meant she had to establish a coherent system from scratch—a monumental task with no precedent, no guidance, and no mentors.
"Assassins," she murmured softly, "have never been treated as a formal class…"
In the simplest terms, different professions have their unique skill trees. Other professions’ skill trees have already been explored and refined—people know what to level, what to train, and the direction to aim for success.
But in Rong’s case, she needed to create a new skill tree from scratch.
Everything was uncharted territory. She had to experiment, research, and ultimately piece together the best combination for an assassin class.
Though rare, there were precedents for success.
But as previously mentioned, those who created new professions were gods—the first practitioners of these paths.
Every individual who succeeded in crafting a new profession was at the level of a god.
After several days of research, Rong’s hope began to wane.
“There hasn’t been…” she murmured, her voice trailing off, “a single normal person who managed to create a profession before.”
“The God of Clerics, Jacob, created the cleric profession. The God of Swordsmen, Hill, is one of the strongest gods…”
“I’ve searched through so many records but found barely anything useful.”
Even with her determination, comparing herself to gods left Rong feeling dejected.
She couldn’t help but doubt herself, her confidence shaken.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“You’ve already done so much,” Shia said, his voice tinged with surprise.
His absolute trust in her was unwavering—he didn’t doubt for a second that Rong could create a new profession.
“But I don’t even know where assassins need to focus their training,” Rong replied hesitantly.
“This is just the beginning,” Shia said with a smile. “You think gods created professions? I believe they became gods because they created professions.
“I believe in you. One day, your name will stand among the gods!”
Shia’s tone was so sincere, his confidence so unshakable, that it filled Rong with warmth.
He didn’t need to offer her advice; he just needed to instill her with the confidence to believe in herself.
After all, this was her personal growth arc in the game.
Creating a unique profession for the succubus race was her destined path.
As a seasoned player, Shia knew what the endgame for a succubus assassin looked like.
However, guiding her too early would only stunt her growth.
Without his input, Rong would still find the path on her own. If he intervened too much, would she be capable of solving future challenges independently?
Rong was talented—her lack of confidence stemmed only from her upbringing.
If she lacked confidence, Shia would give it to her.
All he did was nudge her toward this path a little earlier.
---
Rong looked up at Shia, her heart pounding in her chest.
Her soft, flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes reflected a deep sense of gratitude.
“Master, thank… um, thank you,” she stammered, her voice breaking slightly.
Shia chuckled softly. “Do we really need to say ‘thank you’ between us?”
His warm, gentle smile made Rong’s heart feel full.
For a moment, she smiled brightly. But just as quickly, her expression wavered, her mind blanking out as she frowned in confusion.
Her soft voice returned, shaky and uncertain.
“I… I have to say it. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have even dared to think…”
Rong’s words came out haltingly, but she persisted in expressing her gratitude.
Shia, however, didn’t reassure her.
He was the reason behind her flustered state.
With a mischievous smile, his not-so-innocent hand subtly played along her tail.
Rong felt her mind swirl in confusion.
Her gratitude toward Shia was sincere—he had given her both guidance and encouragement.
Though she wanted to carve out a unique path for succubi, she couldn’t shake her insecurities.
Still, despite the high probability of failure, she was determined to try.
Her mind was filled with doubt and helplessness until Shia stood firm in his belief that she could succeed.
This unwavering trust came from the person right in front of her.
---
As Rong felt the heat spreading across her body, she noticed something unusual.
The warmth of his touch lingered even after Shia removed his hand.
She felt oddly disappointed when the contact broke.
“Master, is… is this something improper?” she wondered to herself.
But no, he was only encouraging her, wasn’t he?
Then why… why did she feel so flustered?
“If there’s anything you need my help with, you must tell me,” Shia said warmly.
“We’re friends, right? We should help each other.”
Rong’s eyes shimmered with emotion.
“I-I don’t even know how to thank you,” she mumbled, her voice trembling.
Her body felt as if it were melting.
Why was this happening?
She instinctively wanted to resist.
But looking at Shia’s earnest expression, his gentle and reassuring smile, Rong froze.
Her body’s discomfort came from him, but he had been so kind to her.
'Was it accidental? Or intentional?'
If it was an accident, she shouldn’t feel this way.
If it was intentional… but he was only encouraging her.
Rong’s thoughts tangled, her face flushed with confusion and helplessness.
Her pale hands gripped Shia’s clothes as she stared blankly ahead.
'I can’t think clearly.'
'How can someone be so kind and yet so wicked at the same time?'
Should she feel grateful, or should she be angry?
Her jumbled emotions only made her more endearing—making her an even easier target for mischief.
---
Just then, a voice interrupted.
“Am I intruding?”
The sudden sound startled Rong, who immediately buried her face in Shia’s chest, trembling like a frightened kitten.
Her soft, warm body stiffened in his arms as she squeezed her eyes shut, silently praying, 'You can’t see me. You can’t see me…'
Diana stood at the door, casting a glance at the huddled Rong before letting out a low chuckle.
Her deep, magnetic voice carried an air of seductive confidence, perfectly embodying the image of a true succubus.
By comparison, the shy, stuttering Rong seemed almost laughable—a far cry from the alluring temptress she was supposed to be.