Incubus Ascension

He approached the trembling maid with a measured stride, the weight of every eye in the grand chamber pressing down on him. The air hung thick with the scent of polished marble and faint floral incense, but beneath it all lingered the sharp tang of fear. Liam’s pulse hammered in his ears. *’This isn’t me. Not really. But if I hesitate now, Citra loses everything.’*

Citra turned to him, her golden eyes wide with a mix of desperation and fragile hope. "Wait—you have experience interrogating prisoners... or war criminals, yes?"

The question landed like a thrown gauntlet. Liam met her gaze, reading the silent plea there. She needed him to be strong, to be the husband the court expected. His stomach twisted, but he forced his voice steady. "Yes. I do."

A ripple of relief passed through Citra’s posture. "Very well. She will be handled by you."

The maids clustered around their queen broke into soft applause, their voices a chorus of admiration. "Look how capable the husband of Queen Citra is!" one whispered loudly enough for him to hear. "Truly worthy."

Liam’s jaw tightened. The praise felt like chains. He glanced at the brunette maid—Zis—whose wrists were bound behind her back. Her uniform was torn at the shoulder, and her eyes darted between defiance and terror. ’She’s just another pawn. Like C2. Like me, before the system dragged me into this madness.’

He stepped closer, keeping his tone low and controlled. "What’s your name?"

"Zis," she answered, barely above a whisper.

Liam’s mind flicked to the translucent blue window only he could see. *’System. Does the quest to have sex with the female elves still apply to her?’*

**Affirmative.**

A bitter taste rose in his throat. He hated how clinical it sounded, how the system turned intimacy into a tool. But the stakes were higher than his discomfort. Lives—Citra’s kingdom, their future—hung in the balance.

"I know how to interrogate her," he said aloud, his voice carrying the quiet authority the court wanted to hear.

Before anyone could question him, he bent down, scooped Zis into his arms as if she weighed nothing, and carried her toward one of the empty royal chambers down the hall. Her body stiffened against him, confusion flickering across her face.

The door clicked shut behind them, sealing out the murmurs of the court. Zis stared at the opulent four-poster bed, then back at him. "You’re... taking me to a bed? Not a cell?"

Liam set her down gently despite the circumstances. His hands lingered for a moment on her shoulders, steadying her. ’She’s scared. I was scared once too.’ He exhaled slowly. "Your interrogation begins now."

What followed was three hours of intense, unrelenting connection. Liam used every skill the system had granted him—not out of cruelty, but necessity—drawing out her secrets between gasps and confessions. By the end, Zis lay spent and trembling, her body glistening, her huge breasts rising and falling rapidly as she spilled everything.

She had been born a war orphan among the elves, trained from youth to serve the royal family. One day, while dusting in a forgotten corner, her fingers brushed a strange violet-flowered vase. A voice—not quite sound, more like a whisper in her soul—had reached her. The Eye had found her, seducing her with promises of power, money, and status. Later, the True Devil had deepened the hold. With abilities granted by both, she had moved through the palace like a shadow, feeding them secrets. Until now.

Liam gave her bare, curvaceous ass a single firm slap, watching his cum leak from her as she shuddered. He pulled on his clothes, the weight of what he’d done settling heavy in his chest. ’Necessary. But it doesn’t make it right.’

He stepped into the hallway and addressed the nearest maid. "Zis has lost consciousness. You may lock her away now."

The maid nodded quickly and hurried inside. Liam returned to Citra, who waited in a private antechamber, her hands clasped tightly.

He told her everything—Zis’s orphan past, the vase, the seductive whispers of the Eye and the True Devil. Citra listened without interruption, her expression darkening with each revelation.

"The item Zis first touched," Liam finished, "was a violet-flowered vase in the northern hallway."

Citra’s breath caught. "The northern hallway... belonged to my mother. It has been a long time since I’ve been there."

Together they made their way through the sunlit corridors of the elven royal palace. Ancient tapestries whispered of forgotten glories, and the distant song of crystal chimes filled the silence between their footsteps. Liam walked close to her, their hands brushing occasionally. He could feel her tension, the way her usual regal strength faltered here.

They stopped before the vase. Elegant, luminous, it sat on a pedestal like a relic. Citra reached out, then pulled back as if burned. "I’m sorry... I can’t lift it."

Liam frowned. "Why not?"

She looked away, vulnerability cracking her queenly mask. "For some reason, since the day I was born, I’ve never been able to touch my mother or anything that belonged to her."

’She’s the strongest elf alive. How does someone like her carry a wound this deep?’ The thought tightened something protective in his chest. He stepped forward and examined the vase carefully. Glowing words appeared only to his eyes.

**Vase of the Otherworldly Lia, Mother of Citra.**

He tapped the name, and a description unfolded:

*Lia, an otherworldly elf and non-native resident of this world. She fled her past world because of an intergalactic war and lived all her life unable to touch the residents of this world.*

Liam’s mind raced. He turned to Citra. "How were you able to birth her, then? If she couldn’t touch anyone here?"

Citra let out a soft, bittersweet laugh. "It was because of the Tree of Life’s blessing. I was conceived magically, without... defilement by any person."

Everything clicked into place. The vase, the strange items that had ensnared both Zis and C2—it made terrible sense. These were bridges. Otherworldly artifacts that allowed the Eye and the True Devil, those extra-dimensional predators, to reach into this world. Seduction through objects, corruption through contact.

Liam lifted the vase carefully, its surface cool and humming faintly with latent power. ’If it can be used as a contact point between worlds... maybe it can work the other way. As a seal.’

**Quest Completed: Increase Time Limit to 2 Years.**

A new window shimmered before him.

**New Quest: Find a way to use the Vase to Seal both the Eye and the True Devil.**

**Failure: The whole dimension faces erasure. Your body will be used as a vessel by both the True Devil and the Eye.**

**Reward: Seal both entities for a 5-year period of peace.**

Liam’s grip tightened on the vase. The stakes had never felt more real—nor more personal. He glanced at Citra, seeing not just a queen, but the woman who had become his anchor in this chaotic new life. For her, for the fragile peace they were fighting to build, he would find a way.

The northern hallway seemed to hold its breath around them, as if the very palace sensed the turning tide.