Incubus Ascension

The grand chamber smelled of aged wood and lingering incense, its towering ceilings lost in shadow. Liam pushed himself up from the cold floor with a groan, his muscles screaming from the earlier chaos. Dust motes danced in the faint moonlight filtering through tall windows. His head throbbed, but survival instincts kicked in hard. ’Where the hell am I now?’

He scanned the room—a massive study lined with bookshelves that reached toward the darkness above. At its center stood a wide, ornate desk carved from deep mahogany, polished to a sinister gleam. Something about it tugged at his memory, a prickle of recognition that made his stomach twist.

Liam approached cautiously, boots echoing softly on the marble. His fingers brushed the desk’s surface. Valor’s desk. The traitor’s private sanctum. The realization hit like a gut punch. ’Of course. This is where the snake hides his venom.’

He dropped into the high-backed chair, the leather creaking under his weight, and yanked open the top drawer. Papers scattered, but one item stood out: a sealed red envelope, its wax stamp broken as if someone had been interrupted mid-read. Liam’s hand trembled slightly as he lifted it. The paper felt too heavy, too important.

He unfolded the letter. The elegant script blurred for a moment before the words sank in like ice water through his veins.

*"The fools celebrate below while I prepare their end. The ritual begins at 9. The princess will serve as the perfect vessel. A true devil will rise tonight, and with it, my new kingdom. Most bearers are already mine—coin speaks louder than oaths. Only that stubborn Luna remains a problem. She will fall like the rest."*

Liam’s blood turned cold. His grip tightened until the paper crinkled. A true devil? ’Is this stronger than the normal devil monsters we’ve faced?’ He shook his head, jaw clenched. The fact that Valor had to betray everyone and orchestrate this elaborate scheme instead of summoning it casually told him everything. This wasn’t some minor threat. This was catastrophe wrapped in shadow.

"Damn it," he muttered, voice rough. He glanced at the ornate clock on the wall. 9:30 pm. ’Too late. Way too late.’

Heart pounding, Liam bolted from the room, slamming the door behind him. He raced through the opulent corridors of the royal palace, past flickering torches and abandoned finery. The distant sounds of screams and clashing steel grew louder as he neared the grand hall.

The moment he burst through the arched entrance, the scene slammed into him. Blood painted the marble floors in gruesome streaks. Corpses of guards and guests lay twisted where they’d fallen, eyes wide in final terror. The festive banners now hung like shrouds over the massacre.

His pulse hammered in his ears. Frantically, he searched the chaos until he spotted them—his group locked in desperate combat near the center. Ast and the others fought valiantly, but one bearer toyed with them effortlessly, parrying blows with a single hand while laughing. The disparity was sickening.

Liam charged forward, drawing his weapon. "Where’s the princess?!"

Ast glanced over, sweat and blood streaking his face, parrying a lazy strike. "Kidnapped! They took her—toward the eastern halls!"

Liam didn’t hesitate. He leaped into the fray, his blade singing through the air. With his added strength, the tide turned quickly. The bearer’s smug grin faltered under coordinated assault. Steel met steel in a final, brutal clash, and the traitor fell dead at their feet.

"No time," Liam gasped. He pointed in the direction Ast had indicated. "Stay here—help the wounded!" Without waiting for replies, he sprinted into the wide hallway, legs burning as he pushed himself harder than ever. ’Hold on. Just hold on.’

At the far end, steel rang out in a furious symphony. Liam slowed, peering ahead. There she was—the female bearer who had cut him before—fighting three others with fierce determination. Luna, he realized. It had to be. Watching her move, fluid and deadly yet clearly strained, he understood why she had always felt so dangerous. She wasn’t just any bearer. She was protecting the princess, holding the line against overwhelming odds.

Luna’s breaths came ragged now. She made a small mistake, exposing her side for a split second. The attackers pressed harder.

She dropped to one knee, sword planted in the floor for support, chest heaving. "Did you forget all the gratitude the royal family showed us?" she shouted, voice raw with betrayal. "The oaths we swore?"

The three sneered, circling like wolves. "We had to," one spat. "We are bearers—naturally higher than pathetic humans. Your loyalty is weakness."

Luna’s eyes blazed, but her body trembled with exhaustion. She opened her mouth to retort.

Liam seized the moment. He crept closer, silent as death, then exploded forward. His strongest attack slashed across the talkative bearer’s neck. The man staggered, blood spraying, crippled and out of the fight even if the wound wasn’t instantly fatal.

Two flashes of light erupted from the sides—deadly strikes aimed at him. Liam twisted desperately, barely evading as the attacks scorched past. He stumbled backward, breath tight.

Luna’s gaze snapped to him. "It’s you?"

"We’re on the same side," Liam said, meeting her eyes steadily. "I don’t want that air-headed princess used as a summoning crystal either."

Conflict warred across Luna’s face—distrust clashing with desperate need. Finally, she nodded. "Buy me time to catch my breath. I’ll help you."

Liam nodded back. Dark energy surged through him as he activated Cleaving Devil mode, power flooding his limbs with familiar, hungry strength. He held the line, blocking and countering, but the two remaining bearers were relentless. He was slowly losing ground. ’Come on...’

As he cursed under his breath and raised his blade to block another blow, a whisper cut through the air: "Moon walks."

One bearer’s head flew skyward in a graceful arc, blood splashing across the hallway walls like macabre rain. Luna stood on the other side, sword lifted elegantly, her form poised like a dancer mid-performance.

Liam’s blood ran cold at the sheer precision and power of the strike. ’One shot. Just like that.’

Snapping back to the fight, they coordinated seamlessly. With Luna refreshed and Liam’s dark energy amplifying their assault, the remaining bearers fell quickly, their bodies crumpling to the blood-slick floor.

Liam caught his breath, lowering his weapon. Luna offered a curt nod. "Thanks for the help."

He returned it. "We’re not done yet."

Both froze as realization hit. The princess—gone. The spot where she had been cowering was empty.

Liam cursed violently and spun toward the fleeing shadow at the far end of the hall—the black figure hoisting the princess over one shoulder. He gave chase, boots pounding.

"Luna!" he called over his shoulder. "You’re faster—go after him!"

She didn’t argue. In a burst of light, she became a streaking flash, closing the distance with terrifying speed.

But the black figure stopped abruptly, turning with predatory calm. A gauntlet gleamed on his raised hand. Luna couldn’t halt her momentum. The gauntlet smashed into her with brutal force. She flew backward, crashing through the hallway and collapsing part of the structure in a roar of shattering stone and wood. Dust and debris choked the air.

Liam skidded to a halt, cursing at the destroyed path. ’No way through there.’ He veered sharply, leaping out a shattered window onto an exterior ledge. Wind whipped at him as he ran along the narrow path, eyes locked on the black figure still fleeing below.

Spotting an opening, Liam launched himself through another window with a surge of power, tackling the figure by surprise and hurling him against the wall. The princess tumbled free. Liam scooped her up, heart racing, and raced back toward the gaping hole the earlier impact had created.

Luna emerged from the rubble, battered but determined, rushing to join them. They formed a defensive line, breathing hard, waiting as the black figure approached slowly. He wiped dust from his dark cloak with deliberate care.

"Hmm. An exile and a bearer working together," the figure mused, voice smooth and amused. "This is a first."

Before they could react, an invisible force slammed into them. Both Liam and Luna were sent flying in opposite directions, pain exploding in their lungs. Liam gasped, eyes wide, struggling to draw breath as he hit the ground hard.

The black figure casually reclaimed the princess and resumed his escape.

Liam forced himself up, vision swimming. He tried to check the figure’s level through the system, but nothing appeared. For the first time, a stark warning flashed in his mind: *Extreme danger. Do not engage.*

The figure paused, glancing back. "You, boy—you shouldn’t peek at people’s private things."

Then his eyes narrowed. "Wait... you have her aura. You met her."

The figure suddenly reversed course, sprinting toward Liam with terrifying speed. "My name is Valdora."

A wide, manic smile split his face as he hurled the princess aside like a discarded rag. Laughter echoed off the walls. "You just made my day, boy. Don’t make it hard— just surrender."

The air grew heavier, charged with lethal promise. Liam gripped his weapon tighter, every instinct screaming that this was only the beginning of something far worse.