Incubus Ascension

Liam sprinted after the ragged boy, heart hammering against his ribs as the clamor of armored knights echoed behind them. The capital’s crowded streets had dissolved into a maze of shadows, and every breath burned with the fear of capture. ’Not like this,’ he thought, glancing at the two girls keeping pace beside him. They’d come too far for it to end in chains.

The boy darted left into a narrow alley without warning, his small frame slipping through like smoke. Liam followed, the girls close behind. The moment they crossed the threshold, something shifted. He risked a glance back—the knights thundered past the alley’s mouth, their gazes sliding over the entrance as if it were empty air. ’What the hell? They didn’t see us?’

Deeper they went. The walls closed in, brick and refuse pressing against their shoulders until the alley felt more like a tunnel. Liam’s pulse thundered in his ears. He twisted around just in time to see one knight skid to a halt, head snapping toward their hiding spot. Shouts rose. They’d been spotted.

"Faster!" the boy hissed, voice tight but unafraid.

They burst forward. The boy skidded to a stop beside a heavy metal sewer grate, muscles straining as he heaved it upward with surprising strength. Without hesitation, he dropped into the darkness below.

"Follow me! Now!"

Liam didn’t waste a second. He grabbed the girls’ hands, and together they jumped. The fall was short, landing on slick stone with a splash. The boy was already sliding the grate back into place above them, sealing out the shouts and stamping boots. Darkness swallowed them, broken only by faint slivers of light filtering through cracks.

They ran. Water sloshed around their ankles as the boy led them through twisting passages. Liam’s mind raced—every shadow could hide danger, every turn might trap them. But the boy never faltered. Finally, he halted before a heavy, unmarked door deep in the underbelly of the city. He knocked three times in quick succession. A pause. Then the door creaked open.

Warm lantern light spilled out, revealing a cramped room packed with children. None older than twelve. Thin faces, wary eyes, patched clothes. Orphans, every one of them. The realization hit Liam like a gut punch—these kids were surviving on their own in a city that chewed up the weak and spat them out.

He crouched slowly in front of the boy who had saved them, meeting those steady young eyes. "Why did you save me, boy? I don’t know you."

The child studied him for a long moment, then glanced at the girls before answering. "Big sister C1 recommended you. Said you must be a good person. Sis C sent you, isn’t that right?"

Liam looked past him at the cluster of small faces watching with fragile hope. The boy stood straighter than the rest, shoulders squared like a tiny general guarding his troops. Their leader. A kid carrying the weight of all these lives.

A slow smile tugged at Liam’s lips. He remembered the boy’s fearless shout back in the street, the way he’d risked everything. Liam reached out and ruffled the boy’s messy hair. "Yeah... she sent me to take care of you."

The room erupted. Cheers and relieved laughter bounced off the walls as the children surged forward, some grabbing at sleeves, others simply beaming with wide, disbelieving grins. For the first time in what felt like ages, the knot of tension in Liam’s chest eased. These kids needed someone. And maybe, just maybe, he needed them too.

That night, as the children settled, an idea sparked. Liam opened his system shop in the quiet of his mind, scrolling through the skill listings until he found it: Chocolate Maker. He had checked it weeks ago back in that border town. The main continent still hadn’t discovered it. Nobles loved anything rare and luxurious—chocolate was perfect.

With half his remaining fortune clenched in his fist, he made the decision. The next morning, he rented a modest shop on a decent street. Standing outside later, he stared up at the fresh sign swinging gently in the breeze and nodded in quiet approval. ’This will do. A fresh start.’

A short, round-bellied man came barreling toward him, face red with anger. "You can’t just open a shop here without paying the deposit first!"

Liam turned, keeping his voice even. "Deposit? For whom?"

The man coughed, jabbing a thumb at his own chest. "Me, of course."

"And what if I choose not to?" Liam asked. His coin pouch felt painfully light. ’We’re already scraping by.’

The man’s lip curled. "Then I’ll ruin your shop. Destroy your reputation before you sell your first sweet."

Liam’s hand shot out. He lifted the man clear off the ground with one arm, bringing them eye-level. "Say that again, shorty."

The man’s face went pale. His mouth opened, closed, then he stayed silent. When Liam set him down, the bully scrambled away without another word.

That settled, Liam brought every orphan into the shop. The girls handled purchases and cleaning with surprising enthusiasm, their movements careful and proud. Liam took the role of bodyguard, watching the door. He filled the shelves with rich varieties—dark, milk, spiced—each one crafted through his new skill. The scent alone drew people in.

Word spread faster than he expected. Soon, nobles were whispering about the strange new treat.

The first real noble to enter was a blonde woman in an outdated but expensive dress, a stern female bodyguard at her side. Her eyes lit up the moment they landed on the display. She rushed forward, pointing eagerly. "I want this one!"

Liam named the price. She paid without hesitation, coins clinking onto the counter. He handed over the carefully wrapped chocolate.

"I heard you were the one who made this," she said, already nibbling.

Liam nodded. "What about it?"

"Good." Her voice turned haughty. "My father orders you to work as my personal chef."

Liam’s jaw tightened. That tone—ordering him like property—ignited familiar anger. ’Not today.’ "Get out of my shop," he said flatly, "or I’ll kick you out myself."

The bodyguard’s hand flew to her sword. "If you dare touch the princess, I will cut your head from your shoulders."

Princess. The word landed heavy. Her father—the king? For a heartbeat, Liam hesitated. Then he shook his head. No. He wouldn’t bend his principles just because of a crown.

His hand rested on his sword hilt. He released a pulse of devil time aura toward the guard. "So what? Get out before I make you."

The princess signaled sharply. The guard attacked.

Liam activated Time Lapse. The world slowed around him, the guard’s strike crawling through the air. He triggered his new skill—Time Paradox—born from the brutal lessons of his fight with Viper. It surged power through his limbs while dragging his enemy deeper into sluggishness.

Even so, she was fast. Their blades clashed in a storm of steel—sword against dagger. In the span of seconds, they exchanged over a hundred blows, sparks flying as Liam barely kept pace.

"Stop!" the princess called suddenly.

The guard withdrew. The noble girl studied Liam with new respect. "You aren’t a simple chocolate shop owner."

Liam lowered his blade slightly, breathing steady. "No. And what would you do about it?"

She glared, chin lifted. "Do you know the consequences of crossing royalty?"

He met her gaze, then reached over and tossed her coins back, snatching the chocolate from her hands. Her eyes widened, filling with tears. She looked ready to cry, small and suddenly very young.

Liam froze, uncertainty twisting in his gut. ’Damn it.’ He softened and handed the chocolate back. "Hear me out—not all people can be bought."

The princess stared at him for a long moment, tears hovering but not falling. Then her shoulders relaxed. "Okay... Can I get my chocolate then?"

Liam realized she wasn’t cruel—just spoiled, used to the world bending to her title. He gave her a full box, a small smile tugging at his lips despite everything.

Just then, raised voices and heavy footsteps erupted outside the shop. A commotion was building fast.