Strongest Incubus System

Night fell slowly over Arven.

Lanterns began to light up one by one along the city streets, scattering golden dots through the growing fog that crept between the aristocratic buildings, taverns, markets, and stone bridges.

From afar, Arven seemed alive.

Calm.

Civilized.

As if nothing were wrong.

As if the city itself ignored that, that very night, blood would be spilled within one of the kingdom’s most powerful families.

Inside Damon’s mansion, however, the air had completely changed.

Now no one spoke loudly anymore.

The preparations were finished.

Only the execution remained.

The library clock struck shortly after ten when Cedric’s last men arrived silently through the side entrances of the property.

Veterans.

Former soldiers of House Arven.

Men who seemed too tired for heroic speeches.

But still dangerous.

Damon watched as they quietly entered through the back door of the library, removing dark cloaks soaked by the night mist. Some carried short swords. Others compact crossbows concealed beneath their cloaks.

None seemed comfortable.

That was good.

Overconfident men died quickly.

Cedric walked to the center of the room.

”All the outer points are in place.”

Ingrivid looked up from the map.

”The carriages?”

”Ready.”

”The secondary routes?”

”Cleared.”

Elizabeth slowly closed a small box containing forged noble seals.

”And the inner contacts?”

Cedric hesitated.

”Waiting.”

The word carried enough tension to silence the entire room again.

Waiting.

Because now there was no more room for retreat.

Morgana approached the table wearing a long, dark overcoat over her light combat clothes. The sword strapped to her waist looked ancient.

Elegant.

Lethal.

Damon immediately realized she had chosen her own father’s blade.

That was no coincidence.

Cherry watched the scene as she calmly fitted a bolt into the crossbow.

”You aristocrats really love turning family trauma into dramatic symbolism.”

Morgana didn’t even look at her.

”Works.”

”Fair enough.”

Elizabeth then stood slowly.

All eyes turned to her.

Her posture remained absurdly calm.

Almost cold.

As if she were initiating a trade negotiation instead of an armed invasion.

”One last time,” she said. ”Objectives.”

No one complained about the repetition.

Because repetition kept people alive.

Damon pointed to the central map.

”We enter through the lower corridors using the south passage.”

Cedric nodded.

”The veterans of the west wing begin the distraction simultaneously.”

Ingrivid slid small metal markers over the map.

”Evacuation of the servants begins immediately after isolating the central wing.”

Cherry raised her hand.

”And the part where everything inevitably catches fire?”

”We improvised,” Damon replied.

She smiled.

”Finally a realistic plan.”

Elizabeth completely ignored the comment.

”The main objective remains the Duke.” Her gaze moved slowly to Morgana. ”The confrontation with the Duchess only happens after we ensure his safety.”

Morgana didn’t answer immediately.

But she nodded once.

Damon noticed.

She still wanted to kill the Duchess.

Still desperately.

But now there was something above that.

Priority.

This was important.

Very important.

Outside, the wind was slowly picking up.

The storm was beginning to form above the towers of Arven.

Perfect.

Rain meant less visibility.

Fewer watchful guards.

Fewer witnesses.

Shortly after 10:40, the group finally began to move.

No farewells.

No speeches.

No heroism.

Just silent footsteps through the dark corridors of Damon’s mansion.

The men left in small, separate groups to avoid attention on the streets. Dark cloaks concealed weapons and faces as they disappeared into the city fog.

Damon walked alongside Morgana at the front.

She remained silent almost the entire way.

But he noticed his fingers slowly closing on the hilt of his sword whenever the distant silhouette of Arven Manor emerged from the mist.

Her house.

Or it used to be.

When they finally reached the central aristocratic districts, the rain began.

Light at first.

Then heavier.

Drops pattered against the cobblestones of the streets while distant thunder echoed above the city.

Cherry pulled her hood back just enough to look at the sky.

”This definitely feels like the beginning of a historical tragedy.”

”Focus,” Ingrivid murmured.

”I am focused. Dramatically focused.”

Cedric led them to a narrow street partially hidden behind the side structures of Arven Manor.

And then everyone stopped.

Even Damon felt it immediately.

The manor seemed... wrong.

Too many lights remained on.

Guards constantly patrolled the inner walls.

And there was silence.

An artificial silence.

No music.

No servants chatting.

No normal domestic activity.

That house seemed like a creature holding its breath.

Morgana watched the enormous gates in the distance with cold eyes.

”She knows.”

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes slightly.

”Perhaps.”

”No.” Morgana took a deep breath slowly. ”She knows something is coming.”

Cedric approached the old side wall, partially covered in ivy.

He carefully removed some loose stones hidden behind the vegetation.

Then he revealed a small opening of rusted metal.

The south passage.

Cherry tilted her head.

”This seems absurdly insecure.”

”It was built for discreet escapes during ancient wars,” Morgana explained.

”Ah.” Cherry smiled. ”Paranoid aristocrats really are consistent.”

Cedric slowly unlocked the hidden mechanism.

A low metallic sound echoed.

Then the small underground door opened.

Cold air immediately escaped from the dark interior.

The smell of damp stone.

Mold.

Time.

Damon pulled out a small hooded flashlight.

”Move.”

The group began to enter.

One by one.

Silently.

The passage was narrow.

Too old.

The stone walls were covered in dampness as the underground corridor slowly descended beneath Arven Manor.

The sound of rain faded behind them.

Now there was only breathing.

Footsteps.

And tension.

Cherry walked behind Damon, observing everything curiously.

”If an aristocratic, murderous ghost shows up down here, I’m leaving.”

”Silence,” Elizabeth murmured.

”That wasn’t exactly a no.”

Further ahead, Morgana stopped abruptly.

Everyone froze instantly.

She slowly raised her hand.

Absolute silence.

Then Damon heard.

Footsteps.

Above them.

Multiple.

Heavy.

Moving too fast.

Cedric frowned.

”Patrol.”

”They never used the central corridor this often,” Morgana murmured.

Elizabeth immediately understood the implication.

”Security has changed.”

The tension instantly worsened.

Because it meant less predictability.

Less control.

More chance of disaster.

The group remained motionless as the sounds slowly drifted above the subterranean structure.

Then they disappeared.

Cedric took a deep breath.

”Continue.”

The corridor ended several minutes later before an ancient, narrow staircase.

Morgana climbed first.

She carefully pressed a small structure hidden behind the wall.

Click.

A secret passage slowly opened.

And then they finally entered Arven Manor.

The air inside felt heavy.

Hotter than underground.

But infinitely more suffocating.

Damon immediately recognized the smell.

Incense.

Blood.

And something strange and metallic hovered in the air.

Cherry grimaced.

”Ah. I instantly hate this place.”

Cedric observed the empty corridor intently.

”The archives wing.”

Everything was dark.

Quiet.

Ancient.

Gigantic bookshelves covered the walls while narrow corridors disappeared among family files, political records, and documents forgotten for generations.

But then...

A sound.

Very distant.

A scream.

Everyone froze.

It was brief.

Muffled.

But human.

Cherry slowly lowered the crossbow.

”...that was definitely real.”

Morgana had already started walking.

Quickly.

Cedric grabbed her arm immediately.

”No.”

She turned her face to him with a dangerous expression.

”Let go.”

”It could be a trap.”

”Or someone dying.”

Elizabeth approached slowly.

”The main corridor first.”

Morgana looked like she was about to explode again.

But then—

Footsteps.

Very close now.

Everyone immediately extinguished their lanterns.

Silence.

Sound of metal.

Boots.

Damon slowly drew his sword.

Two figures appeared at the end of the dark corridor.

Guards.

But there was something profoundly wrong with them.

Their movements.

Their faces.

Their eyes.

Empty.

The men walked in absolute silence while holding black spears close to their bodies.

No conversation.

No reaction.

No humanity.

Cherry whispered softly:

”Ah. I HATE this SO MUCH.”

The guards continued advancing slowly.

Then one of them stopped abruptly.

His face slowly turned in the exact direction where Damon was hiding.

Cedric paled.

”They sensed it.”

The second guard slowly raised his head.

And then the two ran.

Instantly.

Too fast.

Damon lunged forward at the same moment.

The metallic clash exploded down the corridor.

CLANG.

The first blow almost ripped his sword from his hand.

Absurd force.

Without hesitation.

Without refined technique.

Just direct violence.

Morgana appeared beside him immediately, slicing through the second guard’s throat with a brutal movement.

But—

The man didn’t fall.

Cherry fired a bolt directly into his eye.

Even so, he kept advancing.

”OH, THIS IS HORRIBLE!”

Elizabeth pulled out a small hidden blade and struck the creature’s knee joint.

Only then did the man finally collapse.

Damon managed to push the other guard against a shelf before piercing his chest.

Silence.

Heavy.

Everyone was breathing heavily now.

Cherry stared in horror at the corpse still writhing on the floor.

”This definitely isn’t normal mind control.”

Ingrivid quickly knelt beside the body.

Then slowly pulled at the guard’s sleeve.

Symbols.

Black runes burned under the skin.

Elizabeth immediately turned serious.

”Binding magic.”

Morgana watched with cold eyes.

”She’s really gone mad.”

Then—

Bells began to ring above them.

Loud.

Violent.

Alarm.

Cedric paled.

”Damn it.”

Footsteps began to echo throughout the entire mansion.

Guards.

Many.

Running.

Distant screams began immediately.

The mansion had awakened.

Cherry slowly reloaded the crossbow.

”Well...”

She looked at Damon.

”...I guess the war has officially begun.”