Incubus Ascension

The forest pressed in like a living thing, its ancient trees clawing at the sky with twisted branches. Liam wiped sweat from his brow, his breath ragged as another wave of frost slammed into his side. The cryo-beast—a hulking thing of jagged ice and glowing blue veins—lunged again, its claws raking the air inches from his chest.

’Damn it, why does it have to be cryo?’ he thought, teeth clenched against the bone-deep chill that seeped through his low resistance. Every strike from the creature sent needles of cold racing along his nerves, slowing his movements just enough to make him feel like a clumsy amateur again. He dodged left, barely, and swung his weapon in a desperate arc. The impact jarred his arms, but the beast only roared and doubled down.

Behind him, the girls fought with fierce precision. Their blades flashed in the dappled light filtering through the canopy, cutting down lesser monsters with attributes that didn’t turn their blood to ice. Liam’s heart twisted at the sight of them—protecting him as much as he tried to shield them. They had come this far together, leaving the river behind days ago, pushing deeper into the Dale Forest because the safer paths were too exposed. Now every shadow hid teeth and claws.

"Keep moving!" he shouted, voice rough. "We’re almost through!"

One of the girls glanced back, concern flashing across her face, but she nodded and pressed the attack. Liam forced himself forward, ignoring the way his limbs protested. He wasn’t about to let some frozen nightmare be the end of them. Not after everything. The underdog fire in his chest—the same one that had kept him going through exile and loss—burned hotter than the cold could touch. He had people to protect now. Reasons to become stronger.

They broke free of the treeline at last, the monsters thinning behind them as the forest grudgingly released its grip. Before them stretched a sight that stole what little breath Liam had left: a colossal bronze barrier, massive even from this distance, encircling the capital like the walls of a fortress built by giants. Its surface gleamed under the sun, etched with faint runes that hummed with power.

"Finally," Liam muttered, shoulders sagging with relief. The girls fell in beside him, their expressions mirroring his mix of exhaustion and wary hope. They walked on, boots crunching over uneven ground, the promise of safety pulling them forward.

A paved road appeared unexpectedly, cutting through the wilds. Before Liam could steer them clear, a sleek futuristic car hummed past, its lines sharp and otherworldly. It slowed, then stopped beside them. The window lowered, revealing a woman with striking red hair. She pushed her glasses down the bridge of her nose, eyeing the group with a faint, knowing smile.

"Want me to give you a ride toward the capital?" she asked, voice smooth and confident.

Liam studied the vehicle, instincts prickling, but the barrier still looked impossibly far and his group was worn thin. He nodded. "We’d appreciate it."

They piled in. The engine purred to life with surprising power, and the landscape blurred as they sped toward the towering wall. Wind whipped through the open windows, carrying the faint scent of ozone and metal. Liam watched the barrier grow larger, a knot of tension easing in his chest for the first time in hours.

When they reached the edge of the scanning perimeter, he turned to their driver. "Thank you. Really. You didn’t have to stop for strangers."

The woman waved a hand, her smile turning enigmatic. "I should be the one thanking you."

Liam blinked, a question mark forming on his face. "What do you mean by—"

But she was already gone. The car sat empty beside them, engine silent, as if she had never been there at all. He stared for a beat, unease crawling up his spine, then shook it off. No time for mysteries.

His gaze fell on the long lines of travelers waiting at the barrier gates. Memory slammed into him like a physical blow. Exile. The brand on his status, the one that would light up every scanner like a beacon.

"Hide!" he hissed, grabbing the girls’ arms and pulling them into the thick bushes near the wall. They crouched low, hearts pounding.

At first confusion clouded their faces, but realization dawned quickly. One of them whispered, "The exile mark..."

"Yeah," Liam said grimly. ’Can’t catch a break even here.’ "We need another way in. Something the scanners won’t touch."

They watched the flow of traffic. Cars and larger vehicles passed through without issue, the barrier’s devices gliding harmlessly over them. But personal vehicles seemed reserved for the elite—hours dragged by with barely any in sight. Liam’s stomach twisted with frustration and the heavy weight of responsibility. These girls trusted him. He couldn’t fail them now.

Finally, a truck rumbled into view, marked boldly on its side: *Fresh Meat*. Liam stepped out, signaling it down before it reached the checkpoint. The driver, a grizzled man with wary eyes, slowed.

"How about you let me and my girls ride in the back, and in exchange..." Liam hefted a fat bag of gold coins, letting it clink meaningfully. "We make it worth your while."

The driver eyed the bag, then the group. "Alright. But you get out the second we cross."

They climbed into the back, surrounded by the heavy, metallic scent of butchered meat. It wasn’t pleasant, but it was cover. Liam kept low as the truck rolled forward. Voices drifted from the front— the driver exchanging words with the guard. Then the dreaded demand: "Protocol. Open the back for inspection."

Liam’s heart hammered against his ribs. ’Not now. Not like this.’ Cold sweat prickled his skin. He leaned toward the partition and whispered urgently to the driver, "Tell him this load is reserved for the nobles. Ordered special—don’t check the contents."

The driver hesitated only a fraction before relaying the words, voice steady. The guard’s hand froze on the latch. For a long, terrible second, silence hung in the air. Then the man yanked his arm back as if burned. Everyone knew what happened to those who crossed the wrong nobles. The truck lurched forward again.

Liam exhaled shakily, relief flooding his veins as they passed beneath the barrier. ’We made it.’

The engine stopped sometime later in a shadowed unloading area. The driver yanked open the rear door. "Time’s up."

They jumped down. Liam lifted his eyes—and froze. The capital’s interior unfolded before him like another world. Towering skyscrapers of glass and steel pierced the heavens, their sleek lines blocking out the sky itself. Lights hummed, people moved with purpose, and the air carried the buzz of advanced technology layered over ancient magic. It was breathtaking. Overwhelming.

And he had just handed over half their journey funds to that driver.

Liam rubbed his face, the familiar sting of setback settling in his gut. ’Back to square one. Need work. Fast.’ He pulled out the recommendation letter from C1, the paper slightly crumpled but still intact. ’At least there’s this.’

Consulting a worn map, they made their way to the Knight Order headquarters. The building loomed impressively, banners fluttering. Liam steeled himself and approached the nearest knight on duty.

"I’m looking for work," he said, keeping his tone respectful. "I have a letter of recommendation from a knight."

The man, distinguished by a red feather on his helm, raised an eyebrow with mild interest. "Oh really?" He took the letter and began reading. As his eyes reached the name, his expression darkened like a storm rolling in. Without warning, he grabbed the hilt of his sword and lunged.

Liam twisted aside at the last second, the blade whistling past his ear. "What the hell did I do?!"

"You’re with that rat!" the knight snarled, face twisted in fury.

Liam’s mind raced back to C1’s haunted expression when he had asked about the capital—her exile to a remote post despite her upbringing here. ’Of course. Politics.’ He was screwed before he even started.

The knight bolted inside, shouting. Moments later, the courtyard erupted. A horde of angry knights poured out—dozens of them, each radiating the power of level 300 threats, swords drawn and murder in their eyes.

"Run!" Liam barked, seizing the girls’ hands. They sprinted down the nearest street, boots slapping against polished stone. The gap closed with terrifying speed. Shouts echoed behind them. Liam’s lungs burned, but fear for the girls fueled his legs. ’Not like this. Not after everything.’

From the shadows of a narrow, dark alley, a small voice called out.

"This way! Come here!"

Liam skidded, glancing toward the boy—a scruffy kid no older than twelve, waving frantically from the gloom. Trusting a stranger in this mess? His mind weighed it in a heartbeat: fight a child, or face a wave of elite knights bent on bloodshed.

He gritted his teeth. "This way!"

They veered into the alley, the boy’s small form already disappearing deeper into the maze of shadows. Behind them, the thunder of pursuit grew louder, but for the first time since the barrier, a fragile spark of hope flickered in Liam’s chest. They weren’t alone. Not yet.