Strongest Incubus System

The snow had already become a constant, almost hypnotic backdrop as rooftops began to appear on the horizon. They weren’t large buildings, nor towers or imposing walls. Just low silhouettes of ice-covered wood, plumes of smoke escaping from chimneys, and the timid glow of torches scattered along a modest palisade.

Damon looked up.

”Is this the so-called city?” he asked wryly. ”It looks more like a village forgotten by the gods.”

Ester, riding ahead, maintained her impeccable posture, her blue eyes assessing every detail of the entrance. ”Indeed, it’s nothing more than a village. But it’s a rest stop before the main road to the Ducato.”

Damon’s black horse snorted loudly, as if reflecting its owner’s same disbelief. He chuckled softly, running his hand through its mane. ”Well, as long as they have beds, I won’t complain.”

As they approached, two torches held aloft by guards illuminated the wooden gate. They were ordinary men, wearing worn iron armor and carrying short spears. Despite their simplicity, they maintained a firm stance, blocking the passage with an iron bar skewered across it.

”Hold!” the older guard’s voice cut through the wind, firm but not hostile. ”Identify yourselves.”

Ester pulled on the reins, bringing her horse to a gentle stop. Damon, behind her, followed suit, adjusting his spear on his shoulder. The soldier’s gaze swept them up and down, lingering longest on Damon and his black horse. Tension hung in the air for a few seconds.

”Passage trip,” Ester said, her voice icy and confident. ”My companion and I will just spend the night and leave in the morning.”

The second, younger guard exchanged a quick glance with the older one. Damon noticed his uncomfortable expression, as if he wanted to ask something but didn’t dare.

”I need the registration,” the older man said, extending his hand.

Ester didn’t hesitate. With an elegant movement, she removed a small leather pouch from the side of her cloak and tossed it to the guard. The metallic clink inside was enough for the soldier to take it with immediate respect.

He opened it discreetly, checking the weight of the coins, and nodded. ”All right.”

Damon arched an eyebrow. ”Is it always this easy?”

”Money speaks louder than names,” Ester replied, without even looking at him.

The older guard, his expression softening now, returned the pouch. ”You’ll get the rest you seek. We have a small inn near the central square. Nothing luxurious, but warm and safe.”

”An inn is enough,” Ester replied.

The younger man, finally gathering his courage, stepped forward and pointed into the village. ”Go straight ahead along the main street; you’ll soon see the wooden sign with a carved boar.” ”The Frozen Boar.” Mrs. Edla runs the place.

Damon couldn’t help but laugh. ”’Frozen Boar’? What an inviting name.”

Ester gave him a dry look, and he just raised his hands in mock surrender.

The older guard sighed and removed the iron bar blocking the gate. ”Go ahead. If you need supplies, the square also has merchants during the day.”

Ester nodded, urging her horse forward. Damon followed close behind, but couldn’t resist leaning slightly toward the younger guard and whispering:

”Good luck taking care of that little redheaded brat who’ll be arriving soon—”

The boy blinked in confusion, and Damon was already moving on, chuckling to himself.

Inside the palisade, the village was even smaller than it seemed. There were, at most, a dozen buildings, including simple wooden houses, a smithy that gave off faint smoke, and the central square, lit by a communal brazier where a few villagers warmed themselves. Small children wrapped in cloaks ran across the ice, and women with tired eyes carried buckets of water.

Despite its rusticity, the place felt alive. The contrast was stark compared to the silent road and the corpses of bandits that still haunted Damon’s recent memory.

”It seems too peaceful,” he murmured, looking around. ”It almost makes me suspicious.”

”It’s just an isolated village,” Ester replied, guiding her horse unhurriedly. ”Simple people, busy surviving the winter.”

”That’s right.” Damon smiled wryly. ”And then we arrive, bringing chaos.”

Ester didn’t answer, but her gaze hardened for a brief moment.

Soon, the wooden sign hanging from chains appeared before them. The carving depicted a boar with enormous tusks, snow piled high on its head. Indeed, it seemed frozen in time. The building was sturdy, with two smoking chimneys and small windows glowing with candlelight.

The smell of roasting meat drifted through the half-open door.

”Here,” Ester said, dismounting gracefully. ”Let’s go.”

Damon dismounted as well, patting the black horse’s neck lightly. The animal snorted, its eyes still shining in the cold, but it remained steady.

”Hm.” Damon smiled. ”You’ll wait for me quietly, won’t you?”

The horse merely shook its head, scattering snow from its coat.

Ester was already heading for the door when Damon took one last look around. The village seemed quiet, but he couldn’t ignore the sensation of eyes peering from the windows. Strangers always drew attention in places like this.

He followed her, pushing open the inn’s door.

The interior was warmed by a roaring fire in a sturdy fireplace. The wooden floor creaked beneath their boots, and the strong smell of stew filled the air. A few villagers sat at the tables, drinking thick ale from clay mugs. Quiet conversations ceased for a moment when Ester entered, and even more so when Damon followed her.

A stout woman with a round face and gray hair tied in a bun came toward them, wiping her hands on her apron.

”Good evening, travelers,” she said, her tone warm but wary. ”Are you looking for a bed and board?”

”Just one night,” Ester replied, cold as ever. ”We’ll leave in the morning.”

The woman nodded, studying them quickly. ”Two rooms or one?”

Ester opened her mouth to reply, but Damon was quicker:

”Just one.”

Ester turned to face him, her blue eyes flashing. But before she could speak, the innkeeper was already smiling.

”Very well. I’ll prepare the master’s room.”

Damon stifled a laugh, leaning toward Esther. ”You save coins, don’t you?”

A blush rose to her cheeks, unnoticeable to the innkeeper, but clear to Damon. She took a deep breath, controlling herself.

”Just prepare something to eat and the key,” she told the woman firmly.

”As you wish, my lady,” the innkeeper replied, already turning away.

Damon leaned his spear against his shoulder, smiling wryly. ”I think I’ll like this place.”

Esther kept her eyes fixed on the fireplace, as if the fire could swallow the shame burning inside her.

The night of rest, indeed, was just beginning.