Strongest Incubus System

Two days had altered the rhythm of the entire mansion. No one needed to announce it aloud, but everyone felt the change as soon as the information about the next contact arrived. Until then, they had been chasing trails, deposits, intermediaries, and disposable structures. Now, for the first time, there was a schedule, a concrete window, a chance to reach someone who truly mattered.

Elizabeth spent most of the afternoon going over the documents taken from the mill. Logbooks, shipping codes, incomplete lists, payment marks, and repeated symbols. She occupied the main table in the room as if it were a private battlefield, spreading pages in organized rows. Cherry tried to approach twice and was pushed away with a cold look on both occasions.

”If you touch these papers without permission, I’ll have your fingers cut off,” Elizabeth said without even raising her head.

Cherry rolled her eyes and threw herself onto the sofa. ”You turn reading into a threat. Impressive.”

”And you turn uselessness into a habit.”

Morgana, seated by the window with a glass of wine, observed silently for a few seconds before commenting, ”Go on. The atmosphere becomes lively when you hate each other.”

Ester was at another table, reviewing maps and comparing recorded times. Damon stood near the unlit fireplace, arms crossed, quiet as always. He didn’t seem restless, but he wasn’t resting either. His attention was on everything.

Aria entered bringing food and placed trays on a side table. ”Eat before I conclude you’d rather starve to death.”

”Later,” Elizabeth replied.

”Now,” Aria corrected.

Elizabeth slowly raised her eyes. Aria held her gaze without looking away. After a few seconds, Elizabeth took a piece of bread without saying anything.

Cherry smiled. ”She beat you.”

”Get out of my way.”

At the end of the night, Elizabeth gathered everyone again. She had marked symbols on three different maps and separated specific pages of the records.

”We don’t have the name of the link above Varen,” she began, matter-of-factly. ”But we have a pattern. The person who collects the reports uses alternate routes, never enters by the same path, and always demands that the area be cleared twenty minutes before arrival.”

Ester nodded. ”Disciplined procedure.”

”More than that,” Elizabeth continued. ”Someone trained.”

Damon spoke for the first time in several minutes. ”Noble guard or military.”

”My conclusion as well,” she replied. ”And one more thing. Payments to the mill have increased in recent weeks. The operation is speeding up.”

Cherry crossed her arms. ”So the Duchess is running.”

”Or preparing,” Morgana corrected.

The silence that followed was short and heavy.

Damon looked at the main map. ”Where will the meeting be?”

Elizabeth pointed to a secondary road to the north, near old abandoned quarries. ”Here. Varen has registered an external delivery in this region twice in the last month. Never on the same day, always at approximately the same time.”

”Good terrain for an ambush,” said Ester.

”Good terrain for escape too,” replied Damon.

Morgana tilted her head. ”Then don’t fail.”

Cherry raised her hand dramatically. ”I will.”

”No,” said Damon and Elizabeth at the same time.

She snorted. ”You’re insufferable.”

”You’re noisy,” replied Damon.

The next morning, the preparation was objective. No speeches, no dramatization. Ester separated ropes, short blades, and simple restraint equipment. Aria handed out antidotes and medical kits. Ingrivid checked long guns and chose to accompany the operation without asking permission.

”You stay on cover,” said Damon.

”I’ll decide that after seeing the terrain,” replied Ingrivid.

”Stubborn.” ”I learned by watching you.”

Cherry appeared dressed for the field, armed and clearly determined.

Damon looked at her. ”No.”

”You haven’t even heard my argument yet.”

”I don’t need to.”

”I know the region.”

Ester turned. ”She’s right.”

Damon was silent for a second. ”You stay behind me.”

Cherry smiled contentedly. ”Victory.”

”It wasn’t a negotiation.”

They set off before dawn. The road to the north was cold, damp, and surrounded by low vegetation and ancient stones. The sky still carried the dark blue of dawn when they reached the abandoned quarries. The place was wide, uneven, and full of natural slopes that allowed for observation and concealment.

Ester quickly studied the terrain. ”Three possible access points for wagons. Two good high points. If I were coming to collect something, I would choose the center.”

”Then you stay on the high east side,” said Damon.

She nodded and went up without arguing.

”Ingrivid, west.”

He was already moving.

Cherry pointed to a rock formation. ”There’s a view of the main path over there.”

”Stay there and don’t improvise,” Damon said.

”You talk like I’m irresponsible.”

No one answered.

Damon descended alone to a lower area, between two stone walls, where he could move quickly in any direction. After that, all that remained was waiting.

Time passed in disciplined silence. The wind swept through the stones in short gusts. A raven landed on a nearby rock and flew away seconds later. The sun rose slowly.

Then Esther spoke softly from above, projecting a controlled voice. ”Movement to the south.”

Everyone adjusted their attention.

A simple cart appeared on the main path, pulled by two dark horses. Nothing about it would attract attention on an ordinary road. But there, isolated, too early, at the exact time, it drew enough attention.

Two drivers in front. Four mounted escorts around.

”Professionals,” murmured Ingrivid.

Damon watched without moving.

The cart entered the center of the quarry and stopped. One of the escorts dismounted, examined the perimeter, and made a short gesture. The back tarp was raised.

A woman descended.

Tall, straight posture, discreet, high-quality clothing. Her face hidden by a dark, ornate mask, just enough to indicate her position. No wasted gesture.

Cherry spoke through gritted teeth. ”That damn woman.”

”Do you know her?” Damon asked.

”I’ve heard descriptions. I’ve never seen her.”

Elizabeth wasn’t present, but Damon thought she would approve of that confirmation.

The woman walked to a central stone and waited. Seconds later, another man emerged from the opposite path carrying a leather briefcase.

”Report exchange,” said Ester.

”Wait,” replied Damon.

The man handed over the briefcase. The woman opened it, checked a few quick pages, and returned something small—probably payment or instructions. Then she said something to the nearest escort.

Damon raised his hand.

Signal.

Ester fired first. A short arrow struck the shoulder of the furthest guard before he understood what was happening. Ingrivid hit another horse, knocking the rider off and creating immediate chaos.

Damon was already running.

He surged from the side with a brute impact, reaching the first escort before his sword was fully drawn. A blow to the chest threw him against the wagon wheel. The second tried to intercept and received Damon’s elbow to the face, falling without reacting.

Cherry descended from the rock on the left, short blade in hand, aiming at the man with the briefcase.

”Stay still!” she shouted.

He chose to run. Predictable mistake. Cherry tackled him and pinned him to the ground.

The masked woman took two steps back, assessing the situation with impressive coldness. Instead of panicking, she drew a thin blade and advanced directly towards Damon.

”Interesting,” said Ester from above.

She was quick. Clean technique, no flourishes. Two precise cuts, both missed by centimeters. Damon didn’t back down. He closed the distance and forced physical combat. She spun, escaped his grip, and tried to stab his side.

Damon caught her wrist mid-movement.

They locked for a second.

”Who sent you?” he asked.

She chuckled softly behind her mask. ”Do you think it matters?”

She tried another hand on her waist. Damon noticed the hidden dagger and struck her forearm hard enough to dislodge the weapon.

Ester was already running down.

The remaining guards tried to reorganize their defense, but Ingrivid held them pinned down with calculated shots. Cherry dragged the captured man behind cover while cursing incessantly.

The masked woman kicked Damon’s leg, gained space, and ran to the wagon. Damon followed immediately. She jumped into the driver’s seat and cut the secondary reins, whipping the horses.

The wagon started moving.

”She’s going to get away!” Cherry shouted.

”No,” Damon replied.

He sped up, reached the side in a few strides, and grabbed the moving rear frame. He climbed up using sheer strength, lunged across the unstable roof, and leaped forward. The woman swung the blade toward him, but Damon struck her first with his shoulder.

Both fell from the seat.

The horses bolted aimlessly.

She rolled on the ground and tried to get up. Damon kicked the weapon away. As she reached for another blade hidden in her boot, Esther arrived and stepped on her hand.

”Enough,” Ester said.

The woman still tried to smile. ”You don’t understand anything.”

Damon lifted her by her clothes and ripped off her mask.

Cherry approached first and froze. ”I know her.”

Morgana would have recognized her too. She was a junior employee of the ducal court, someone seemingly insignificant, seen at events as a mere chaperone.

”Name,” Damon demanded.

The woman spat blood beside her. ”Lysandra.”

”You report to the Duchess?”

She smiled again, now wearily. ”Everyone reports, sooner or later.”

Cherry stepped forward, furious. ”Where is the main base?”

Lysandra looked at her with disdain. ”You’re already late.”

Damon squeezed her arm until he heard her joint protest.

”Repeat that.”

She took a deep breath, maintaining her crooked smile. ”The next shipment already left yesterday.” The wind felt colder at that moment.

Ester exchanged a glance with Damon. ”She was really speeding up.”

Cherry cursed loudly.

Damon released Lysandra just enough to keep her on her knees.

”Then let’s continue,” he said.

And for the first time since the beginning of that hunt, there was someone alive before them who actually knew where to look next.